Archive for the ‘Paradise Lost (Looking To Refind)’ Category

Once upon a time,

they welcomed us

and our strange, brilliant ideas.

Funny, how things change.

It used to be hard to get out,

but get easy to get in.

And Lady Liberty smiled opaquely,

welcoming.

Then came openness and restructuring,

so as to say,

doors opened, doors closed,

houses were besieged,

some fell,

crumbled.

Now,

lines on maps fluid…

It’s easy to get out,

but hard to get in.

Big thinking no longer enough to impress,

indeed,

system will stress:

“No more welcome,

unless you undress…”

 

I was determined to make my freedom count.

So, I stopped counting seconds and minutes, for a while.

I took my watch off

(My beloved Swatch with the Stakhanov name and design!),

I stopped looking at the hands and appreciated the art.

Beautiful,

evocative,

inspiring.

Ironic really, given my new circumstances.

 

Okay, first thing’s first,

the basest thing,

money…

I was alone and without a job and/or income.

What, me worry?

Hah!

I didn’t have a job and/or income in my early childhood

and I was somewhat happier then than I have been of late,

I rationalized to myself, effecting a simper.

Yes, the future was ahead of me back then,

I was 100% potential,

perhaps,

predetermined to an extent,

then,

so why not be excited by going back to the future thus?

Indeed.

Changing global labor realities,

we are expected to be adaptable,

blah, blah, blah,

news reports and experts know

the robots are coming.

I took a sip of beer.

Free!

 

A lot can happen in one day,

or even in a few minutes, within a day.

Things can come together,

or fall apart.

Lives can change,

good and bad.

The phone rang again.

I answered.

She said it was good news.

I was confused.

(We all have a different perspective…)

I was presented with a problem,

and a distinct lack of choice.

What I was being told to do was an impossibility,

but how could I say no?

Words jarred, clashed and clanged inside my flushed, rising temperature head.

So, I said: “Thank you for letting me know…”

without actually saying I’d do as expected.

Good bye.

I guessed it meant I’d be on my own from then on,

with a target on my back.

Hollow, somewhat gutted,

I felt free.

 

Silence is golden.

And peace is worth more than gold.

Screw other people and their

hollow

distractions.

 

Looking for a place to belong…

willing to sacrifice,

myself.

 

So, a few more people realized, remembered this year,

oh, the human penchant for so-called milestones,

isn’t publicity a wonderful thing?

And, how do *we* feel?

Hollow.

The added attention only serves to highlight people’s ignorance and ultimate apathy.

After distractedly devoting three minutes of half-attention,

they move on, banality beckons.

People are kinetic beings,

like polluted winds,

they move on,

affecting, effecting and infecting somewhere, someone else.

Do *we* ever move on?

(Only in my imagination…)

Generally, we are in a demented kind of kinetic stasis,

like atoms moving frantically, acting and reacting on instinct and memory, agitated, but not actually going anywhere.

(Where would you like to go?)

Home.

(What is “home”?)

A concept of comfort and belonging, safety.

(Is such possible in this world?)

… 

Corn is good. Straight roads are awesome. Fresh air and empty space, a lack of people, beautiful!

Space to breathe, space to think, room to move. Time feels like it’s on your side, in Iowa.

Don’t besmirch the girl with the Cross around her neck. She has faith – the here and now, the future to come – she is a beautiful person, her thoughts and words are ardent. Why, she reminds me of the girl I left behind in Yelets. … Behind? Cliché and pejorative and nonsense. In reality, she left me behind (I could never keep pace with her beyond university – how she has blossomed).

Cold feet, gloriously refreshing, until they start to hurt.

Dom Knigi is a paradise I’d be happy to be lost in, indeed I have been many times in my happiest times past, memories. Today it seems so distant, overcome by tech and distractions, complications and conspiracies against me and everyone else, I imagine, who feels at home in Dom Knigi.

Dom Knigi in the 1970s, on one hand, and Andrew Carnegie’s honest, upright wealth creation strategies for the betterment of society, on the other. This is the world we live in. 2015.