Day 155 – the cobwebs of my mind

Day 155 - the cobwebs of my mind

Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel thats turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half-forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly?
Was it something that you said?
Lovers walk along a shore
And leave their footprints in the sand
Is the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of a song
Half-remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over
You were suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind.

— Alan Bergman
"The Windmills Of Your Mind"

My favorite renditions are by Alison Moyet, Dusty Springfield (whom Alison sounds like), and a sped-up version by a windmill-legged Muppet on an episode of "The Muppet Show".

This cobweb is on the side of the box that I have my scanner and camera card reader set up on, and I find myself fascinated as the computer’s fan makes the whole web move.

I have this habit of thinking about people that I haven’t seen since I was a teenager and wondering aloud how they are, who they are, where they are. Some do rematerialize when they find their names in print on the Internet and let me know they’re still alive, though what I get beyond that point varies greatly. It’s like some people won’t tell you in email what they’d say in person if you bumped into them on the street without much hesitation — what city they reside in, married? children?, what line of work they’re in, that sort of thing. And then they just vanish back into the ether after a few volleys and, half the time, without answering the basic questions posed twice. I think I’m getting jaded with the spectres, which coincides with the last name on the top-five list dropping me a message that said "I’ve known where you are for a couple years, but waited until I moved out of that same town before I contacted you."

Like the dust that you will find
in the cobwebs of my mind.

Posted by TheDamnMushroom on 2008-01-02 09:15:43

Tagged: , 365 , cobweb , gossamer , spider , arachnid , PawySuit , dust , dirt , green , blue , bokeh , dof , or autofocus likes the box more than the thing I’m pointing at , unfocused , mind