Thursday, October 10, 2013

Baltering With Keys


Tickling the ivor... well, plastic stubs with letters printed in their corners. Splayed beneath my fingers in a pleasant ergo split. Aging almond beige showing hints of yellowy-orange hues as skin oils, sweat, light and atmosphere take their toll upon the plastic shroud. The housing extends beyond the keys as a wrist rest. Not padded, just a curving molded plastic extension, but it's quite nice to have... here on my lap... I'd not previously given credit or taken full note of it... beyond it's added bulk that is. A Microsoft branded keyboard. I like it in spite of my prejudices. : }

The Music of GhoslyCast has been nice. Pretty much all up tempo w/ pulsing bass until now. Now is ambient ...and pleasantly so.

I forget what actually drew me to the site in the first place. Perhaps I'll check... ah, fancy digital (desktop) wallpapers, mostly colorful intricate geometries.

Geo metric trees... I saw -- read that is -- an article... well it did have pictures... hmm, methinks the language may be lagging behind or skipping the timescale aspect it seems inadequate at times like this. Perhaps it's my command of it ... perhaps it's both. Sprechen Sie...? Nur ein bischen... A weak American excuse... mea culpa... Mea Culpa , I think it means not what I think it to mean or more accuately not what most others are likely to understand it as. I suppose a word alway means what I think it means—in a sense—to me. In a way Lewis Carrol might enjoy riffing on.

What does the web, the mighty net, a google search have to say about it? Let us journey hence... "Mea culpa is a Latin phrase that translates into English as "through my fault"." via Wikipedia's preview on the search results... I was thinking "I'm not worthy" but "I'm at fault" actually fits the usage quite well. Better even.

"ENIGMA " Mea Culpa" (platinum version)", the youtube video offering...

Ambient with a slow bob. Gentle beat and 'tink'.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa, I can see a usefulness to it. Not taking blame for the death of Christ... although metaphorically, allegorically, I can grasp something there as well... breaking with the spirit through 'mea culpa' our, my, lusts and desires. Impatience and greed. A shadowy screed. wandering need for rhyme and poem to roam through my fingertips and little gray cells bound within a wall of skull and arogance. My feet used to prance when I was more into movement and less concerned with dance.

Tummy grumbles and knees itch to move. vid lays silent... oops shut off the groove... perhaps timely, I hunger and it's likely safe to come out of this room. I'll tip toe and listen like a thief in the night, like a hunter, like a fugitive, like an escaping slave trembling scared to travel and scared to get caught in swirling thoughts hears the belly speak once more. Naught to do but peer around the door with sense and senses...

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