Tag: France

Time can’t unhappen but it can be unlost. Can it?
Now it’s started we’d better finish it.
Not the past, not the future, this now.
In the small space they occupy their own time is real.
Life can’t unhappen.
The past was always in front of him like a river he couldn’t cross.
These nothings are nothing.
That’s what happens as you get older; everything is a long time ago.
I have to do this part by myself.
Gone Fishin’ Part Two
Gone Fishin’
The rush of time that passes so slowly and so fast.
The present that disappears like water over the waterfall.
He knew how to think about himself.
Why do we do the things we do?
Walking like a statue through a statue garden.
There’s no one out on the streets except us.
Birds sing. Fish swim. Time passes.
The constant anxiety of being human.
The constant effort of being human.
It looked like a house in a story.
I think about time because I don’t understand it.
Gone Fishin’
You can opt out of the system. You can live in your own way.
Sometimes where you are is enough.
Sometimes it doesn’t matter that it’s night or day or now or then.
He didn’t want this dream to end.
Do you think you have any control over your life?
It’s philosophy at your fingertips.
Unpathed waters. Undreamed shores.
That’s a pretty truck you got there.
The air was fresh and starting to warm.
Why didn’t I think of that?
The missingness of the missing.
So many stories of lost and found.
But you can’t reverse time, can you?
What would it be like if we didn’t have a body?
They talked about life as flow. About nothingness. About illusion.
For a while they walked in silence.
I know it’s about what’s missing.
A chance to get lost and to find yourself again.
He felt the wind blowing through him.
Who wants to sit down when you can dance?
Take my advice: don’t think about anything you don’t have to think about.
He’s run away and he’s on his own. That’s why he lives in the airport.
The story has to start somewhere.
The important things happen by chance. Only the rest gets planned.
Gone Fishin’
What is memory anyway but a painful dispute with the past?
Then there’s the river. Wide as the future used to be.