6.06.2012

Meeting Practice

I am told that to write, one has to practice.Here is Practice:

 "Hello, Practice. How are you?" How is the sky today? Did you know it was the transit of Venus, and both in Auckland, New Zealand and California, USA the cloud cover decided it was more important than a once in every 105/120 year occurrence?"

"Oh," says Practice, "but it comes in pairs...surely you would have heard about the first transit of Venus? They do occur in pairs. It would have been back in 2004."

As I, the lone, superfluous blogger quietly ruminates over what Practice has said, a reality strikes my mind as in a slow, sinuous method..--"It is 2012."

Practice smiles, as only a cold, well-known foe could. He/she knows that I missed the first transit of Venus for some odd reason, primarily a combination of ignorance and university-related depression. He/she knows that I would have done almost anything to have seen that first transit of Venus if someone has shared that information with me then. He/she knows, by stating this fact, they leading my mind down the dark, fermented path of unknown and confusing past tidings.

"Practice," I commence with the same quietly serenity of a chainsaw, "do you love aggrieving me so? Is it a past time that you believe with sharpen your fine canines so that you may enjoy a semi-cannibalistic feat over the next session?"

Once again, Practice smiles, this time his/her canines showing. "Why, how could I else wise teach you the meaningless mistakes of your way? How could I humble you so that you understand these mistakes are meaningless, and the only true meaning is the repeated visiting to myself?"

I quietly stare at Practice, down-trodden, and disheartened. If Practice does enjoy these sessions of failed attempts and limited hyperboles (if any at all), to what direction can I work towards from here? What positive attempts will gain me any satisfaction and clarification over my own means and ends?

Here lies the victim of Practice. One who tried, met her demise, and will be joining the great genderless enigma at her next semi-cannibalistic feast.