Author: A metaphysical entity (Page 23 of 33)

Something is bubbling, rumbling, working.

Your dear Papa Shanghai has discovered the magic of fermentation and is adding it to its content, from now on. Thinking back, most dishes are the result of thorough fermentation, stemming from the mind. They have been stored for enhanced flavour, spicier content.

Will you be satisfied with the right amount of fermentation? Is it too much for you? Is the bacterial load too heavy for your distinguished taste?

Well if yes, you have come to the wrong food stall. Because Papa Shanghai serves straight from the heart, the brain and stomach. I am the MSG on your thoughts.

But now leave me be, this weeks dish is served and I need to ferment.

Maintenance has taken place and I am back on the tracks.

Weary I wandered, for many long days. Taken for granted, I felt that the movement wouldn’t stop. But I am not a Perpetuum mobile, I am Papa Shanghai. I habe brakes and a gas pedal, soles and an engine. I am starting and stopping, using up energy and replenishing.

After all, maintaining this machine to move forward is important and I have neglected it for too long.

Same as the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and months run by, I am continuing. The urge to run with the time is heavy but you do need to rest. The desires I long for, the goal that is most imminent, is the determining factor, wearing me down. But I forgot to stop, use the brakes, use the engine and my control over it.

So here I am, well oiled, on the tracks.

Clack clack, clack clack.

Here I sit and wonder, what doth the people do what they do, yonder.

I sit on my small patch of grass, cross-legged and with my mind at ease. I have a single blade of grass in my hand and stroke it gently. If it was a little less fragile, it would probably cut me. But it won’t, maybe it doesn’t even want to.

The sun is shining into my eyes and I let myself get blinded for a while. I pinch my eyes try to see what the others do. They walk around looking for something. They are more successful at looking than me, because they wear sunglasses. Still, I might be better at finding.

I am content that I won’t have to look any further today, I have found a place and something in my hand. I have found the sun and a spectacle to gaze upon. Herds and herds move by me, like a river of sun-glassed clouds in the forms of humans. Is it too many metaphors and analogies? Who even cares.

I Wonder when I will leave this patch of grass. I wonder when I will part ways with this blade of grass. I wonder, when the week starts and when it ends. I wonder who told us to look, for something. I wonder who told me I don’t.

My mind is crossed, just as my legs.

My legs fall asleep. Maybe my mind will, too.

Click clack click clack. It is the hunchback, lurking.

You only appreciate things you had once you truly lost them. For me, it is the ability to bend over. Not to bow, to be submissive but just to pick up that six pack of beer. Oh how I miss the days when I wasn’t aching. How good it felt to not worry.

I know pain is coming. I know it. When that movement comes, my body will tell me how badly I tested it. Even papa is fragile, so I am bowing down here now. Metaphorically, in this text. By not capitalising the word “papa”. The mystical entity forced into submission by worldly powers. I could have never imagined this day would come.

But I will be back, with a healed scar. We will form a body even stronger than ever before. Until then, assist me! Let me know how you are, how your body and mind is keeping in equilibrium. Don’t let the two be separate. Be wiser than papa, be thoughtful. And most importantly, be helping.