Do you think this night is going to add up to anything? Do you think we’ll remember it, tonight? Wandering these corridors? Do you think we’ll remember what we’re saying now – right now? This conversation?
Do you ever feel everything you say is in quotes, like it’s been said before? By someone else, maybe. Or by us in another life … Do you ever feel that all this happened before, and we’re just living it again? That all this is part of the whole of life flashing before your eyes as you die?
Do you ever think it’s all been said before – that everything’s been said before? That we can’t say a single new thing? … It’s like all the words have already been prepared. All the scripts for lovers’ talk. All the things lovers have said. And we only get to quote …
Do you worry that we’ll never get to the point? That we’ll never talk about what really concerns us – what’s really important? Do you ever think that everything we say just gets in the way?
All the stuff we’re saying echoes with something. What’s important is the echoing. What echoes through what we say.
What is it? Some great rumbling. A roaring – but very far away.
Work in Progress 