The past tense of “one” is want
– as in a person or identity.
But also the tense past of won.
As though want could have won the prize,
but now want only wants in an indefinite space of continuous past tense.
Because surely want is what want doesn’t have.
And when want is in its continuous state of eternal past,
there is very little want can do with wantself,
always plagued by some possible chance overlooked.
No more than with desire, sure. But still, it’s consuming.
Not that want necessarily feels it all that often in this world so geared towards consumption:
want barely has time to want, before want is pre-empted and saited.
So if want asks wantself “what do I want?” there’s hardly an answer
in this moment, right now, clinched by the cerebral faculty of I.
And if want pauses before want answers,
like watching a clock
(which want is inadvertently doing, ticking off the seconds with words),
want becomes infinite and neutralised:
As though, really, ipods and cellphones and silk dresses and KFC can all go to hell.
Because the infinite want can never be depleted by such infinitesimal chips.
Because want is not object-specific in itself,
it only becomes phenomenal when Ogilvy or Hunt or Saatchi get involved.
What want does require is some last grain of hope in possibility.
Because otherwise “I want” becomes only “I won’t” –
and that exists quite finitely in the future.