Archive for November, 2016

Ideologies and philosophies,

much like preachers on TV,

they all have their shortcomings.

All that is human is subject to corruption,

avarice and pride,

as we pretend to comprehend the Divine,

the paragons we favor, decide upon, preside,

as we discriminate against another,

every day, we blaspheme.

One way or another,

we *all* blaspheme.

 

Funny, the more he asks for money,

the more inured and turned off I am.

His pleas turn to cheese, somewhat.

Dis/Like…

Shut up and get on with it,

you’re living your passion!

Plaintive

plaintiff:

learn the power of moderation and subtle suggestion.

 

The British thought they were *something*.

Hah!

They were beneath Soviet espionage,

we left them to the GDR.

The system wants to degrade, implicitly & explicitly.

The British are masters of degradation

and manipulation,

they are the ultimate class and caste system enforcers,

they love misinformation,

they think it is comedy.

Cold and damp,

we did what we could.

 

They speak.

You listen.

They tell you the facts, apparently.

You believe them.

Pause.

Another moment.

Pause.

You find yourself alone on a walking trail.

Memories of news, shit, views, flood through your mind.

You wonder why the world seems so screwed up.

And,

there’s a certain kind of clarity,

in times of peace.

And you wonder why the fuck

people in war zones have babies.

And, later, you’re trying to watch Star Trek Deep Space Nine,

and you’re disturbed

by the TV adverts that beseech you to give money,

to save the fucking children

from the hellhole.

Indeed.

I woke up and found myself outside of the Mir,

it was unpleasant,

it quickly became a way of life,

*sigh*.

Village, community, commune, collective, safety, peace, the whole world as I knew it,

GONE…

Imagine being excluded!

With no hope of returning to something which probably never truly existed (except in our collective imaginations) …

Imagine.

“What is ‘truly’?” I asked myself, from my new (every morning) perspective.

Indeed,

I prefer sleep.

 

It was strange.

We were on trial.

We had to represent ourselves and what we believed in

(our would-be leaders).

They had us skate around the Hockey rink as some kind of warm-up

(in a freezer).

Then we had to give a speech.

I did the best I could,

nervous,

somewhat wooden.

Indeed.

The woman decided to be cruel,

she said I had a future,

possibly,

as a senator

or as a rubber prostitute…

 

I watch, listen, read

the news media.

Confusion and panic,

mixed with banality and pseudo-calm.

They talk about riots, divided nations,

propaganda and misinformation,

hate, hate, hate,

danger,

in between adverts for dating websites,

loan sharks

and sports betting.

The masses are asses,

they clearly believe

and want to continue to deceive.

And,

what is the truth and what is the bullshit (?)

in a nation which is supposedly the epitome of democracy

where people don’t accept the outcome of an election,

proclaiming loudly, violently and obnoxiously that,

he’s not my President!

If the shoe had been on the other foot, imagine the world’s outrage.

As Franz Kafka wisely implied

to the lost:

Give it up.

I had, I am sure,

an abnormal childhood and adolescence.

A product of who, when and where I am from,

external manipulations,

my sensitivities.

I saw the movie Grandview USA in 1993.

It was new to me.

I felt like I belonged, somehow.

From the opening credits, homely, inviting,

I felt at ease.

I wanted to be the girl in the bikini

with the Frisbee

(hard to believe?),

happy,

free.

I hoped things hadn’t changed too much

in the almost decade

since the film had been made.

Indeed.

I wanted a home.

I could dream.

 

 

It doesn’t matter…

YES, IT DOES!

It’s okay…

NO, IT ISN’T!

Sigh,

the pains,

your selfish, self-centered

actions and words

cause.

The pain,

the angst,

may you feel it tonight,

yourself,

a kind of hell (comprende?)

and may you moderate

your apparent hate

for me,

pray, considerate.

Else,

Tomorrow,

Fall.

 

A minute of silence,

maybe more is required,

to reflect upon

Lviv

(Lwów)

(Lost love).

What was and may have been,

gone,

as grudges long simmer,

scores to settle…

The complexities of people and history,

outside influences and pressures,

exerted,

in a place,

like space,

never empty,

but nonetheless void.

Where do you go when home no longer exists?