+ Samuel Beckett +

When else is there?  Or where?  Only now, on… no how, on, on only now.

What I mean is that we will strive.  We strive.  From “strife” – disturbance, struggle, war… the turbulent activity that alive involves.  Motion.  Something we don’t know how to stop, without action.  Activities of ‘the last.’  Unable to experience their ceasure, their ends.  What ends?

The unknown?  Surely not the motility of the parts in wholes unceasing.  An idea of action?  Its ‘language’?  Such saying for to be said, missaid, always.  Another ‘end’ without knowledge, perhaps.

Perhaps misaware of limits?  A particular sort of activity’s borders?  Perhaps solely misaware.  Distracted by activities we might call abilities simply because ‘we seem able to’ – to what?  Disturb, turbulate, live.  How else aware, even unawares?

We go on (“to strive” “to make strife”), even, sometimes, without ‘effort,’ insofar, just continue, with no how, but on.  Merely on.  Even imagining we’re “not” sometimes – its own ongoing.  Now, oh on, anyway, even without how, like repetition or citation, trundling referencing.

I mean to say – we strive (and make strife) – often in lieu of intention, even with apposite purposes – breathe again, anti-again, attempt to negate or destroy (even ourselves) going on no how, now oh on, almost without prejudice, only preference or opinion, some direction made by lack, discomfort, disturbance, desire, indifference, doubt.  Now oh on…

As if a play of breath.  A texture of emissions, an inseparability of matter and space commingled duration, a wish for absence to enable our moves and again to sense we are here, now… oh on… no how, only, on, again, ever different(ly, also).  That kind of same, as in memory, forgotten or impossible become.

Missaid, misaware, avoid negation, probably not (!) un- or ends would have already come.

From other ideas for language: from sight, from feels, from motion.  From other (s) – language or motion… from strife and disturbance, from obstacle… anything to notice, perceive, accidentally endure, to become.  Now, oh on.  Anything – even a wishing for no (thing) is something – perhaps without how, but still on.  It’s a song, or could be, hardly motion sans sound, even whispers – how else could silence arise?  Even rising – difference – a change in the scene or a sense – never stoppage: now, oh, on.

To get back to the strife or the striving – the friction that comes from duress or caress – just the difference – a surface, an alter, a scrum or a veil – misaware of the motion, the context, the seamless mobility clipped for the eye or the hand, the scent or the senses or thought.  As a dream – and perhaps! – misaware and missaid, misperceived.  We go on, now – oh on, nohow on, only on…

Akin to ‘the next thing’?  If even the ‘last’?  What becomes like an ‘on’ if undoing (unbecoming, unmaking, erosive, erasing, destruct)?  What gets lost, what survives, of what IS?  No how can be told, but goes on.  Loss is but change and perturbance, disturbance (again, but now ON) – now, oh, on… anyhow, always now, ever on…

The end an invention of language perhaps – to imagine – a “not” to the on…