Archive for the ‘His/Her Own Drummer…’ Category

It’s midnight already…

*Shit!*

And the Sun has set over Mount Asahi.

I look North.

And my computer has frozen,

glacial movements,

Hokkaido feeling.

 

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Some battles aren’t worth fighting

(you can still win the war).

Like, Christ Jesus shaking the dust from His feet and moving on

(from kith and kin who wouldn’t accept His promise).

Like, 1812 and 1941, invasion

(recoil, regroup, ready to rebound).

Step back.

Step forward.

Today’s opinions mean little:

Let time and perspective vindicate you.

 

Was it defiance,

or opportunism?

Solidarity undermined,

for sure.

Moral treason?

… Maybe there was a good reason.

Sport, politics, human life,

competing ideologies,

competing interests,

does anyone ever truly win?

Perhaps we all rather lose.

 

Imagine life when the internet ceases,

phone signals desist,

TV broadcasts stop.

Imagine, what you will do?

How will the world function?

Indeed.

Will you smile

when your devices are only as good

as what’s contained within?

Shut the fuck up, please, I’m busy thinking big ideas.

I’m about to change the world.

Don’t distract, complicate or detract me.

Shut the fuck up, squeeze!

(Girl, why couldn’t you ask your banal questions, engage in conversation, during the commercial breaks? Like, make the most of the shit-time. And when the TV show’s back on, just let it be… And in answer to your question: No. … Sometimes there are no good answers…)

(Okay, okay. Next. Are there any good questions, out there? If you have one, please raise your hand and ask politely…)

Actually, life’s pretty great. Since I’ve been free, on the outside, delivered from the walls.

I’ve found love, I’ve found riches, I’ve found meaningful employment, I’ve found a purpose, I’ve found life, since my family died.

So, so long to the long so whats of the past. Fuck you, family, for keeping me back, in a box, curtailed, enslaved, unable to realize my potential, used and abused, worked to the bone, boned to the work, fuck you!

Perfidy and betrayal, I lost a family and I found myself. Boundless joy. Dear readers: would that you all could be so lucky.

Really, that was just yesterday that I saw the space station in the early morning sky? And I wondered. And I had my closest connection to fellow humans in quite some while.

Really, that was ten years ago that I had a life and hope of better to come? And I had a family and friends – now as long gone away as yesterday.

Time, meaningless.

You’ve got all this really great stuff that you keep on a shelf, in a cupboard, drawer or box, tucked away, waiting for the right time to use. Because, surely, the right time isn’t here and now – your great stuff is way too awesome for this shithole, this current malaise. Right?

But what if this is as good as it gets for the rest of your life? What if you die before you utilize your great stuff? What if your great stuff decays before your life improves? … Nay, I say, embrace it now, enjoy it while you can – before the moths get your clothes or the worms your flesh. 

Yes, so you say. But do you live it? I see you, a man-child, an aging Chilean kid, still wearing trackpants and determinedly tucking your t-shirt in. And, you know what, I like it.

You listen to the words others say, listen. How incredibly petty they often are. Adults sounding more petulant than children, making no sense at all, when you listen to their words.

You hear them, it makes you shake your head, it makes you cringe, to be the presence of these cretins. (Sigh…) Your internal voice speaks calmly and eloquently, rationally, in your mind’s ear you sound like an ancient Greek philosopher.

Sigh, why can’t be just accept that we’re all in this world together, like, get on, co-exist, make the most of here and now and each other, love and be loved.

Problem is, if you actually listen to your own words, likely you’ll hear how petty, hateful and juvenile you are too.

We all are: ruled by emotion and baseness, hurt and manipulation, spite and irrational urges, voices in our heads and personal demons. The measure of a well-rounded person is how well they cope with it all, the shit, and how they treat others in turn. The conformists resort to banalities in their interactions, the masters strive for illumination. We all should at least try.