Jakob wasn’t there. He never was. He was the classic example of the
absent father. He could nevertheless not be accused of not being present. His
gaze could penetrate the thickest walls. Somehow, he just knew. This made
people shy away from him. Noone likes to be subjected to such piercing blue
eyes. Slightly blank, like water blurred the edges of those irises, just added
to the discomfort you would unfailingly experience. In the gaze was a good
measure of judgement. Not so much with words, what can they convey anyway? So
he trudged on, unperturbed by the commotion in his wake. He had had to develop
a rather thick skin over the years. Most things seemed to bounce off him, and
you could be excused for thinking that nothing got to him. This was not true. A
lot of things got to him.
Mean looks mean. Curiosity can be hemmed in, but not drowned. To accomodate it is necessary to allow a free rein, within the boundaries of the concept. This is modern, useful approach. This is pragma, when results and not appearances matter. You can forget the guilt trip, it does not compute in this environment. Just look out for the green, ever moody, likely to shift on a whim. You got to work with me baby. Don’t make the mistake of thinking. This is more about feeling. A touchy subject I know. And Aldred…no let’s not go there. I must obey the rules. I will obey the rules. The rules are mine. I rule. Think for yourself. Feelings are overrated. This feed is monitored.
Comments
Post a Comment