Never Too Late!

Never Too Late!
any resemblance to anyone real or imaginary is mere bad luck
we are all lying in the gutter, but some of us are trying to get up


...but only the silent and hideous ones

I, too, watch for the silent and hideous ones. A glimpse can be caught sometimes, in an eye or a particular walk. I am compelled, having recognised one, to not ignore them like a sane person and hurry on, eyes front, to the pool of light under the next streetlamp. Instead I have to court danger, flirt with madness, violence, sudden brutal death.

Why? There is something, maybe, I hope to learn from them. But I cannot openly approach them for teaching, of course, it is not the nature of the game. I have to attract their malevolent gaze, make it fall on me. I have to provoke them to play, I have to give them something worth their attention. Why should they deign to match their powers against mine? To present them an entertaining diversion requires extra-ordinary mental toughness from me.

This mental toughness is why I have taken to playing the game. I am honing my fighting instinct to a fine edge, and my consciousness and alertness expand, in every area of my life.