Today I wrote from 21:20 to 21:30. I was prompted by ideas here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, and my tweets here
So the sun brings us life, it brings us joy, and it brings us warmth. But, as Larkin notes in The Whitsun Weddings, it also brings us shadows, and brutally robs the interest from anything outside of it’s all conquering gaze,
“At first, I didn’t notice what a noise
The weddings made
Each station that we stopped at: sun destroys
The interest of what’s happening in the shade,”
But what of interest takes place in the shade? Nefarious things stereotypically, dodgy deals, threats and murder. How evil are these dark recesses, yet they exist only because of the sun.
Blame the light, not the dark.
Petals and Parasols
Oblivion. We came from it, we head toward it, this brief moment spent in Larkin’s blooming million-petalled flower. Who knew that could be more bleak than the oblivion we seek, and from whence we come.
So during this short interval, this grim slog of never-ending functions (they do end, mercifully) we must make the most of the sunny days, they say. Look out, look up, the sky is blue, the sun is shining! So? So what? We are still marching onward ever back to oblivion. Even as we ‘move forward’ or ‘look to the future’ that we are encouraged to by all around, we are blocking out that inevitability, just as a parasol blocks out the oh-so-inspiring sun – a useful guard against the good days.
“Stops Sun” is the translation, and of the bad days we use a device that “Stops Waters”, the “paraguas”; or in English the “umbrella”. Now where the fuck did a word like that come from? Seriously, what’s the point in that? In anything?
Well, both these infernal contraptions, equal in all but name, function and material, are forgotten in the restful bliss of oblivion. Or are they? Yes, Mr. Larkin; we will find out.
Today I wrote from 14:10 to 14:20
November Writing Prompts – Read more from the Dead Deer and follow it.