Say Nothing, Nothing Said.

Minority speak, the chosen few, the disabled amongst you. The Cancer patients and those with runny noses...Nonsense and more nonsense being published today. Nonsense is now in print....I'm writing a book that makes no sense, bound for the coast and destined to be a sell-out-tour for sure.

Diversity and medieval Christianity. Culture-clash and all things in the sweet-shop that taste a little off...Springboxes, kiwis, gooseberries and Warwickshire verses Ashanti towns. More sense. No sense. Nonsense being written today. Where we @ in the bigger scheme o' things? Still nowhere forward, with a long way to go. Mind boggles on coffee-pots, oil paints and full-frontal images of everything far too easily seen.

And microwaves and dishwashers...And floppy flat caps, and curly hair and brown skins amongst us all saying something or other..Political animals up in my grill...What have you to say or have your say today? Say something to someone at some point and all will be revealed. Hacking away decoding, the nonsense we are typing. Having fun in the catching, the patterns that are emerging, in order to read every single thought, every broken stutter, every inch apart of me. ..."What rot is this our democratic right to exist?"

Say nothing to no-one so quickly. Say something to someone so quietly. Say something of interest, like the joy of being happy. Of angels in the bed. Sunken baths and spotty ladybirds on playful cupboard doors. Colourful butterflies fluttering and flying-sauces inside teacups on broomsticks. Speak of clouds in the sky and birds singing lullabies...Nothing is being said...Nothing being said, 'READ ALL ABOUT IT!'

Let the politicians make fools of themselves trying in some vain way to have their say. Let them all fall. Watch the tools escape the wrath in their cityscapes of busy-ness on laundry-day ...There, I said it again. My nothingness is now so visible it makes my eyes weep. Join me in my nothingness and be a part of everything. Drop out and sink to the floor, and allow yourselves the luxury of falling.

It is what is not being said, is being said. It is between those moments of space and time, allowing us to think more honestly. Say you're nothing to nobody today and everyday...come on....The publishers are a-publishing and the writers are re-writing. Say your nothing now! Speak of the truth that is unspoken? Shall we play with the Gods once more? The Devil is in the detail, the Devil is at the door...and she has come-a-knocking. Tap. Tap...tap..once more...

I see at a glance you're listening. Your gooseberries all aflame. Follow the thread and say nothing, as clear as clear can be. Spit it out! Shout it out! Like the humble bumble bee..Look again at the mysteries of the world and say you're nothing vocally. Say you're nothing to nobody whilst watching others slapping on some lipstick, sucking on pear-drops and candy-coated lollipops; writing out on blankety-blank cheque books and pens. The vast majority invisibly screaming, silently in the dungeons that are all-too-often, way too deep.

We see behind the curtain, a shadow lurking. And looking and listening so closely....What nonsense are we writing? What could we possibly say but nothing, for nothing can be said no more. Pointless and useless yet works on every level. It is our nothing that is being written about so loudly, like an orchestra without the strings and violins blowing within this white-space of emptiness. Can you see the nothingness now? I read a wonderful article this morning, full of nonsense and understood nothing. For the first time ever, I understood what nothing meant.

I am looking for a publisher, to put into-print my heartfelt-scribbles on this rather elaborate idea of nothingness, but all the publishers are busy. Busy printing novels, biblical-bubbles with notes and prefaces on nothing, so I shall wait my turn like every body else.