My father was an overwhelming man. He overwhelmed me to the point that I am always in fear of being overwhelmed. And when I am, I have to return to the opposite polar extreme of not allowing myself to be moved. To build a dam, a breakwater, a high wall to keep atone else from overwhelming me. Because there isn’t anyone that I can trust, if I am in their power. Perhaps that is why I am a coward? Because I am scared that I won’t survive? A bird out the nest, a diver out of his suit. No oxygen, nothing!. (a speeding car passes) “Asshole!” A perfect congealing of emotion with disregard! You have your head in the clouds head tilted back thinking that you are seeing something magnificent. But all that it is. is a bunch of water. It’s just an over bound thing that needs to take a dump. Would you look at someone constipated and marvel at their bulk? And then of course see them after they emptied themselves and think somehow a miracle had transpired? I think not. Yet that drama of the moment with the forces of the world at chaos ever-present and ready to enact some possibility of destruction. That’s always the moment of drama. Isn’t it?
Always worried about saying the right thing to the wrong people. As I walk through this suburban neighborhood you see people coming out from doors and passageways and think, “I can’t do what they do!” And settle for less! I can’t sublimate myself to other organizations that would enslave me. Keep me from that fantasy of my own destiny. That would be the ultimate betrayal. At that point, there is nothing left. I’ve given away everything else to create this small world around me. Safe from any other intrusion or interruption. My vain dreams!
I’m always feeling like I am on a schedule. A deadline looming! Last second! Perform it or you’ll lose. Heh! I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost every opportunity. Walked the other way. Always playing to the schedule. “Gotta get this done first!” “Don’t forget that!” “This takes precedence.” But you see I basically put everything on the side. So that there is no possibility of being intimidated by something that might take you over. That you might enjoy. That might carry you away from the main company of your family. That family being a curse as much as a comfort. Now without it, of course, there is nothing but fond wishes and beautiful thoughts. But its the times of course. So many times it was the opposite. It was a tyranny. Something that I struck out against. But my anger vent unfortunately.
My revolution! For the wheel to turn around on itself! To come back to the same conclusion. Supposedly changed? Hopefully changed. But, with no change at all. Just something to wave around like a dirty rag of a banner or a flag. Meaningless after the moment. That’s my legacy. To sit there and dream. Of my head in the clouds, my throat open to the rain. Hopefully to drown form the glory of it all. Heh! What does that make me? But a turkey. A fool. A Rube. Heh! Somebody born into it. Like a family trait. Like a member of my own class. Never able to rise out from it and realize that universal oneness. Well, my oneness is myself. And I’ve realized that plenty! An no one else had better try to hop aboard because it’s mine Godammnit! It’s mine! No one else deserves it. No one else is ever going to get it! It’s mine.
What kind of universe is this that the Sun pushes away the veil of the clouds? In this insignificant corner of nowhere? And everybody hails it like it’s some great momentous event in their lives? In reality it’s a construct of their own imagination. What kind of world is it too, where people need light to see what’s around them? To expose the hidden. Something that they cannot do for themselves. Heh! Is that the ultimate answer to the senses? The whole idea of being able to check in with different instruments of heredity. Different frequencies that combined, give one the experience of human life? Who devised this? What Sadist? What Trickster? What kind of game player? Trying to keep people from being bored by cutting them up into little pieces. And creating boundaries so there could be such a thing as definition. So there could be such a thing as truth in an absolute sense. In a polar sense of left and right, and up and down, and small and large. And all the other extremes? So that one could be accounted. Like a counting purse. Sit there squeezing out coins in little stacks based on these instruments and dimensions. That, of course, seem completely arbitrary and meaningless to a larger sense of being ‘on’ like the Sun. Like a light bulb! Or just being ‘not’.
Another case of the right person to pick but the wrong person to be picked by.
https://vimeo.com/181099858 video version