I'll Let You Know


There are times when flashes of impression occur with the intensity of smell, only it is not a smell. If they resemble memory, they are the memory of something that never was. If it is desire, it is desire for something closer to us than we are to ourselves. If it is passion, it is for something that need not be possessed. It cannot be named because it is too familiar. Yet, I struggle to name it, to name these experiences, if only as an exercise in futility. I want to inaugurate the presence of this phenomenon into ordinary language even if it can't be captured. I dare chase this experience, realizing that it may well be the result of excess - a surplus of feeling leftover from the abundance of meaning sought in every transaction of waking life. And yet, I can't so easily dismiss its acausal nature. It would seem to have arisen from some depth that is as much the future as it is the past. When I have a better idea of what it is and a name for it, I'll let you know.