December 12, 2012

Why do I keep marking these days? To prove I can find meaning in inanity? Or at least alliteration and pattern? Our tripled twelve is the number of tribes and apostles, of constellations and signs, of hours and months, of gates to the body. It is code for police and eavesdroppers. Though it transcends binary, it signifies governmental perfection—indicating perhaps that our overlords will be not machinic but angelic. It is the number of completion.

The world will go on, astronomers reassure us, oblivious that this is in fact a time of great personal upheaval, of interstate returns, of memory digitisation, of career crossroads, of crises and crunches, of cycle completions. NASA knows nothing of subjective apocalypse.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s