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For the Sileni.
Next I'll be writing postcards to
Bismark.
Hah!
Stunned, lately, at what must one
do to be a human. I've tried
bibles, comic books, video games, careers, "ass," drugs, trees,
open-roads, literature, philosophy, campfires, other-directedness,
self-directedness, Monty Python, the sea ... . I've tried meditation, river otter watching, academic book
reading, the internet.
Crotch-centrism, anti-crotch-centrisms, anti-centrisms. Learning. Teaching.
Adolescent crises, post-adolescent crises, mid-life crises. And here I am.
Nothing like extricating pain to
awaken in oneself a consciousness of mortality. Ambulating about with a fractured appendage tells the world
that you are homeless (if you live where there are homeless–and you don't
live unless you live around some sort of homelessness). The world is a kind of mirror hard to
contradict. Saw a kid earlier in
the day sprain an ankle after spilling on a skateboard; 'haven't felt that pain
in a while' I thought. I try and
remind myself of such things whenever possible, to keep a healthy weariness
(and a side effect happens to be that any particular instance doesn't come off
as predictive). A morbid outlook,
but I look for those black marks on curbs, guardrails, and the like; messages
from the world to be weary of it.
CalTrans paints over these marks on some freeway exits, I've
noticed. World weariness threatens
my Weltvertrauen. For the past
week, the world and I have mirrored our weariness. Vicodin was prescribed. I was told about all of the precautions needed so that I
could consume this narcotic. Those
words of warning came after my decision to stop with the morphine. I'd ask for them, fall asleep, wake up
from pain only thinking it was two minutes later, ask for more, repeat, then
think, this shit doesn't work. 'I
remember morphine being far awesomer than this shit.' Meine Krankschwesters: 'if you're done with the morphine,
then we're gonna send you home with a prescription for Vicodin.' Went to the pharmacy and stood in two
lines for half an hour each. 'The
lines are long, with the economy and all,' says the pharmadealer. Had half a pill, a self-prescribed ¼
dose experiment. ''d rather have
the pain of the injury than the weird side-effect shit of Vicodin,' I
thought. It made no
difference. I decided to live with
the injury pain. Call me
hippy–call me existential hippy.
Not sure what I'll do with the life-pain, but I'm vain enough to let you
know, so don't worry. I'll
probably start with some Life Cry.
It'll likely end with some crap about strength–but for what I
don't know.
Ostensibly there to protect the
Empire's interests, the Major oversaw the order the East India Company
required. They repaid him what The
Empire offered: newspapers and
beer. But in the latter respect
The Empire had failed him–until the introduction of hops to British Beer,
and India Pale Ale to him.
Described as an authentic English Beer that could survive the trip
around the Cape, the new India Pale Ale was The Empire's ability to tame the
reaches of the earth. For our
Major this failure was not just about beer. "Not just a failure in flavor," the Major thought,
"but a failure in spirit."
Too much time had been spent in the effort to rid English Beer of its
barbaric German ancestry.
"Hops!?!" With
time came more order, and India Pale Ale, but also more British. And a new officer not old enough to not
be repulsed by his first taste of beer.
To settle the matter, and eager to learn and impress, he quaffs his
first draught of beer. His first
taste of beer is an India Pale Ale.
He likes it; "What is that taste?" he beams. "Hops." He has a new enemy. Colonialism.
So, the experiment's on–in
full swing. "An
experiment in full swing;" you can't make that shit up. An entire set of values cast–thrown–into
doubt. Certitude against a relief
of doubt–and no other way. Its new–that's for sure. That's the hardest thing to deal with, the newness. Feels easy to say–wish it were
true. Newness aint that bad. And yet, you spend a life getting used
to one thing, then have a time sorting out a different one. You "spend" a life–I
hate that sound–adapting to one, then have a time for another. Of course I'm committed to
new–not conservative, though not "new" without
qualification–of course.
Egal. I wonder if its
bidirectional. Doesn't really
matter. Adequacy against the backdrop
of inadequacy–always. Vie-Va
La France. And yet, in the world
of facts, adequacy is a fantasy not worthy of pursuit. That's surely bidirectional. We've all problems, and when the new
arrives, we're forced to respond.
In which direction does my value-positing I/eye turn? Or does it remain? Active? Reactive? But
is it recommendable? Of course it
is. Who wants to engage in
activities that one wouldn't want to recommend? That's no life to live. That's not life.
Life. And yet, I know that should
such a recommendation be heeded, too much newness would ensure. Too high of a cost. (Spending again.) But that's only now, which is
nice. We contrast, against each
... "other" with what's the best: ausstiegen mit is, we can agree,
superior to ausstiegen ohna. It
will take a decade to sort out.
Time. Zeit. Raum? Doesn't matter, there will be raum ... there will be
raum. Egal, is it
tri-directional? Tri- ... . Quatro– ... ? Really? Sin-co–?
Really? I'm admittedly a
"local" communist. I
don't know what it means, but I am good at faking it. I've tried, but surely not too hard. Surly not too hard–even better.
Hah!
There are now a number of spots on
my body where I have abnormal feeling.
Back. Finger. Knee. Thumb.
Shin. What's next? Dick, of course.
Nothing like the numbness in my
cognitive nervous-system.
Am deathly afraid of the
"demise" of my loved ones.
It makes me world-weary. No
children and I'm older than jesus.
World-weary.
I've
witnessed more than one bird's flight into a plate-glass window.
There's
something I'm good at: getting a
beer and typing.
"That's" what we do, I suspect. Egal. I can
bleed and bleed and bleed. All
some such. I can do it with yee
olde pen. I've yee olde pens and
the like. 'Ve done it. Doesn't matter. Different modes, same shit–same
content. Egal. Fuck Egal. It is too easy a way out. Am tired of the easy way out. Life ain't for the easy. Not for we Sileni.
Nor for we Sileni.