Alternatively, you could spend the next few minutes following a path that starts in the middle. At first you will seem confused, lose your way as you try and figure out where to go. This, defining of frames, will be a struggle. And, as with all struggles, it shall pass. The problem might arise when you begin to believe that all you had to do was figure out which frames will show you where to go.
You might think you’ve peaked the scene;
you haven’t, the real one’s far to mean.
The watered down one, the one you know,
was made up centuries ago.
- Kanye West (Nicky Minaj)
My beautiful dark twisted fantasy.
It is in this space of in betweenness that you will probably spend most of your time. Oscillating between now and forever and thinking about the past. Given, by now, you picked this alternative, it would be prudent to find out where the beginning is. So you start looking backwards. You hear Kanye, You hear Anyidoho
And The Drums
The Drums guide our feet
In this backwards-forwards dance
This forwards-backwards dance
This Husago Dance
This Misego Dance
The Dance into a Future
That ends in the Past.
And time, that ever elusive patron of capacity, continues to elude you. Continues to elude you. Still, you think, you are still here. And you keep going forwards, to go backwards. And, since you are already on this path, you find yourself in the oscillation to the point of not knowing where the past lies. If you can’t see the past either you are so far in the future that you have lost sight, or you are so grounded in it that it has completely blinded you.
Of course, neither of these are situations you want to be in if you have, as you did, decided to go down such a badly lit path.
If you are to make any real headway you will need to be firmly rooted in the present Or, at least that’s what you thought right? That the present was spontaneous? That there would be no other way to have now except to have now, right?
How have those frames worked for you?
The present continues to be a culmination of the past steadily making its way into itself. You hear Anyidoho. You hear Hill.
Everything is everything
What will be will be
After winter, must come spring,
Change, it comes eventually.
- Lauryn Hill
Still, somehow, you feel like you should, at the very least, be able to speed up its progress. Progress. This is what it has come to. Words that carry such weight but yet could mean anything. The past continues to become the present to become the past. Which seems moot in many ways. But, on the bright side, you just burned a couple of minutes – and found the end of a path.