my table.

I have on my table, plates. Plates of different kinds, and a few of them. This plate, I felt unfinished, and left unfinished. ..though I do not know if I have left it. Am I still trying? still holding it. A few plates broke. Plates break. That's one of the things that do happen to plates. Why make them then? If there are no plates, none can be broken. I imagine this plate feels for me. Yet I do not know if it wants me to finish it. I imagine with my big ego, it begging me to completed it. Furnish it.. and in the end of it's cycle, honour it. That's my imagination. I do not know for sure. A back view wrench my heart this morning. A pain so deep, you can no longer tell nor explain. It is in the end that we would come to remember the joy from it's beginning. And regret the in between. I am sick of hope. It toys us. We are but fools to it. For it means nothing and is nothing. But we hold it. Above logic, above odds. Above possibilities.
I gentle ly touch the plate with my eyes. going through it's contours...looking, re-looking...and secretly seek a respond. A sign. Ah yes, everyone believes in god. Everyone. And I have found the basis to prove that. Ah, yet now here, not now. Now I want to look at my plate.
This is time, dedicated. This is time ..quality. What can I do for you, from here? The scraps of food and broth, and sauce...taints and distracts... yet it is those that makes you. .. in way. This room dims, and the old air con duct, purrs and it's fat flap hitting back and forth the groves, made for it's exhaust to exit. It is cold. It is old. Faithfully. Voices stream in from neighbours... some whisper of secrecy and conspiracy. Some of laughter in foolishness and laughter of nothingness...whom has lost grip of sense...the fault of the world. Fault of god.
I am back here as before. I hate SO much to be back here. I sigh and despair...thinking of the journey, I have to retake, redo...and emotional crescendos I have to do again...brings me down to a dark black place. I want the last attempt to work...and fear and dread redoing of this. ...ahh. ..
..I see it near still. And it should be completed. The plate must be done. It must be completed. I shall go forward with this.

I shall.




I seek an artist, paint this for me.