spectaculism
when your ears cannot hear the waves and the feelings wash over you like, 'am I alone and is there a home and where do I come from?' and your eyes refuse to see anywhere beyond the glare of nowhere which is the essence of your existence. brothers, sisters, mothers fathers all despairing and not realising and reliving a nightmare - knights, horses, dames and serfs all... drowning in the waves, a walking, talking recluse does exclaim... 'then we're all in this together?' Yes, being smashed by the frequency of our own misdemeanours and extravagances lost in mountains and valleys on a journey no-one's prepared for with no supplies, surprise or enterprise... cost controlled, sold soul, told goal, unexpected shoal... the sounds then overflow and the ears hear, but they're not used to the sound particle - the ice cold sharp shock of insistence which comes from somewhere far out and deep within, a calling, to something never known and misunderstood - a heart...