so. instead of what i thought i’d share with you (a project that i’ve held close to my chest for fear of spoiling it somehow by letting it be seen before its due date–whenever that is–although in my mind i see it finished, but not when,) i’m here tonight/today/yesterday or tomorrow, perhaps even next year as long as time means nothing to you, because that is true.
the rose has no agenda. it blooms when it blooms and it blooms when it blooms (the words ‘blooms’ were interchangeable with each other,) and now it is blooming, but time had nothing to do with it. unless. unless you impose your sense of time on it. your need to control everything. well. it may not be your need, you may have no control over your time. which. is a pity. not having any meaning, that is a pity (ah, but for a comma.) but where were we?
oh yes, time. your time here (but you said “your thoughts here”, which indeed is true, but that was a ruse to get your attention–and your time.)
to what purpose then? they say you can share your time with another, but that is not the same as giving them your time, because they cannot take it and add it to their own. it is still your time and you do decide how you will spend it (there is no time credit card, it is cash & carry only, oh i suppose they might accept american express, like costco, but when the bill comes at the end of the month you’d better be ready to pay.)
no. i will not be sending you a bill for your time here, although the thought did occur to me just now that that is exactly what the new journalism (the one that replaces the old new journalism) is doing. they are charging you for your time. it is your time & now you are paying for its use (by you.) which. i may accept as a new standard for personal blogs. pay me in time. (not on time, but in time, with your time, you see time is the only real currency that is left to us.) look for your statement in the mail (also on its way out of our time.)