Everyday ironies abound in the school of the damned. In the last days of the expansionist empire now halted in mid step by the commercial exploitation and exhaustion of the surface of the orange. This moldy colony at loggerheads with its own base obsessed with imposing a system that defies common sense. What can one expect when there is no predictable future left to fuel the hopes and dreams of those so afflicted by the big popular lies. You had better understand human nature and its evil twin, animal desire as the DNA code that is relied upon to stunt your sense of self by the big boys and girls that hold sway over this land. We are all merely their pigeons flapping our wings impotently as if that means anything or will change anything back to what we were used to before. The only reason behind it being, because that is what we do!
Maybe things have not been so easy around here? Too much pretense unsupported by observable fact. Walking around self-important and puffed up! There is really not much to crow about beyond the marking of time. Machines are taking over our jobs and we are warehoused as obsolete. The operators are becoming fewer and fewer leaving only two states of being. Boiling anger and boredom in the unsanctioned capitols of the unseen and unwashed. Hands out ever expecting help and the expectation of understanding for every crime no matter how venal for the perpetually extenuating circumstance of being alive. Tossing curse words and forbidden slang as if they were self-complimentary. And always ready to demonstrate their ire by making a molehill into a mighty precipice to toss their opponents off of. As if everyone not enjoying their unenviable condition has been mandated by some higher power to endure their endlessly bad behavior.
Downtown, checking out the local bar nearby, next to this unenviable work. The same old mindless sports talk conveying nothing, meaning nothing standing for idle conversation and a demonstration of concern of some dubious sort. That everyday mumbling modicum of mundane career isolated boredom. Drinking a beer at noon on a workday, or partially so. There is a creepy voice at the bar’s far end filling itself with hopes of taking the bartender home in the metaphysics of their own fantasy fancies’ flight. Their patter evidencing a primordial inability to advance into adulthood by disgorging the obvious disregard for the facts supplied by the squawk of the screen perched on the wall. The candidates all crooks in a cynical drama to justify the crooked one-armed bandits at voting time. The wrong place to eat or drink as this place reeks of the sticky sour poorly washed stench of lye.
Halfway home, fifteen minutes till the bus arrives. Alone in the dark with not one else to give it a single thought the only kindness possible being a crew to pick up the body. The two-legged scum haunt the corners and shadows looking for an opportunity that I refuse to provide. Not feeling well! A heavy set of chronic fatigue has set in like a restless dog nipping away relentlessly at my weaker parts. Blood clots? Heart? Cancer? Or, just plain tired of the recycling sense of that same old ‘all’? A very selfish man wanders past. Maybe it’s all-wrong? And there is lots more suffering ahead? One begins to wonder about the physical dimensions of life. Was there some other un-thought of kind of entity that decided to take a collection of cells and make it a transmitter eons ago? Did the whole project get away from their lofty sense of science and the entire globe become populated through the unexpected possibility of reproduction to develop what seemed like consciousness of the self? Is it all a matter of that driving force behind the mental over physical? Some form of transfer to a remote location? Will over being? A cacophony of vested viewpoints ever ready to countermand the discussion away from independent conclusions. Entry points from discrete opinions carved only so far into diorite manifestations left here and there by our ancestors.
Dreams of obsessive issues of life out of alignment predominate. What key is left that fits? The inescapable conclusions obvious to others but their rationales completely hidden from me! Semiotics of life expressed the most obvious of choices. The aging process increasingly becoming a plumbing problem! Minutes tick by like seconds meaning more now than in those carelessly spent within a younger era. Soundly planted like a tiny turtle in a terrarium. A plastic palm tree within the middle of the compound standing in for everything once sired by nature. Suburban assholes not knowing the difference between the two, nor caring! Selfish well-practiced ignorance! Pleasure or despair is a matter of your own disaster. No one else is responsible. Old age is the expected form of slow unremitting dissolution. Embrace your destiny! Perhaps we ARE transceivers? You can spend your time crying out vigorously from the edges of the shadows. Be on public view from security cameras. Help make the new clichés. Just another guy with a sweatshirt having a hood on it! A watch cap ensemble touting that you are another one in training.