Blind? Yes, to be blind! Blinded by everyday life. Blinded by the need to be rational. Blind to follow convention, the be understood, to put forth the semblance of understanding on behalf of everyone else that you fall in love with. Even if you don’t even know their name? You fall in love, not with them, but that idea of them falling in love with you and your madness. Your madness being your irrationality. Because, how dare you be irrational! OK, that’s society, fine! We all know about that, and even been writing about that for years and years on end! And you’re in a rut about it. But what about everything else? About the mystery of life? What about that big nighttime eye in the sky that peeks in through the window? The one that you refuse to acknowledge? Is there an old accomplice? I don’t know? Somebody looking in on you to make sure that you’ve got it all right. But do you? You know you don’t! You know that all you have now is a bunch of patterns, and habits, and ways of thinking that make you feel like you know something. But you may have known something more when you did the waiting. When everything was just a first, first experiences. Some things were overcome by joy and others by terror, and inhibition. And that’s the concrete that the patterns were set in. The foot steps in the sand that later became sedimentary rock. The path that, of course, your name will never be connected with because . . . well . . . you’re not known! You’re just like everybody else. A known quantity, if theoretically there, but not to be seen. I never run out of different types of people in the street, yet I theorize they all have lives like mine. Things seem monumental but they come from a human hand. Well, how monumental could they be? The lumpen masses trod each morning back and forth. Forth in the morning and back each night trying to avoid the plague of ideas and misfortunes that occasionally come their way. But the deal is that you are blind to all of it!, that’s how it works! You’re just blind to it whether you want to act like you’ve got glasses on and you can see. Put things in proper focus, you’re still fucking blind. I guess that’s the theme is blindness? Tonight I closed my eyes for short periods of time and I used my hands to navigate around as a safety measure. But, it was good to realize that if I didn’t have two feet, and two arms, and a big bald head, that there was something more than existence. Something more interesting as life, that life, for life. Yeah, that’s how it goes. I am waiting for the question to be answered. It will be. I don’t know if it will be? It might be? But then again, it may not.
Situations of inescapable despair. Five years in a prison cell does not equate to being cast off as irredeemable by the society that’s evolving around your very ears. The true victim is the one that’s forgotten, that the current society has no awareness of. The fallacy that’s so well-publicized to the opposite of a caring organizational structure perfectly designed to attend to those who have a falling out. To just simply to discard those, that are unfit, the current plan. But then act, of course, totally to the opposite. Park them, if you will. Just somewhere out of sight. But make sure, like bubbles in heavy oil that they somehow get caught half way up before they reach the surface. It all has a diabolical ring to it! That which is common and natural to the human condition of youth slowly is worn away, dissolved, spent, by the designated party, at the end of life. Not much can be said other than coming up with regretful means of disposal. Wherein, in times past, even the lowest end of society was accorded the privilege of a respectful ceremony and burial, albeit in an anonymous humble location. Now society affords you a quick trip down the drain. Dissolved into possible useful chemicals. But not useful enough that they deserve special treatment outside of the local municipal water reclamation plant out side your city waste dump. Human resources! Once they are tapped, they can no longer be recovered, and so like any other material that takes up too much room, they are quickly recycled.
These current times of a police state and an ever-present, supposedly omniscient police state. I am not a happy fellow. Not someone that you would want to be around or be pleasant around. Just oozing venom from every pore! My internal constitution attempting to spew it all off to find another breath so as to be alive. Such is life! There is beauty in the world and I seek it out where and when I can. But it’s a natural beauty. It’s a situation of happenstance that I have to journey to stumble onto. In terms of people there is always the hope that I’ll come across someone that I can truly enjoy my conversations with. But I have to tell you that it’s just all too apparent that those who seem drawn to me are equally poisoned by ill circumstance that is descended upon what was an otherwise hopeful existence. People fall in and out of love with me very quickly. Faster than I used to fall in and out of love with them! It’s not that I don’t seek permanence, or feel so fickle, but I guess I am too immutable, too stable, too unchanging! And that is not allowed. They get tired of the same old me, and naturally so.
There is a part A plus B universe. You can see it in the front window. The one-story place is a small joint along the way somewhere part of a strip mall that issued from the nineteen-fifties. I knew the owners. They didn’t have a restroom for the place. They would have to sit there and firmly and politely tell the guests, “There’s no restroom in here!” And even I, as a sometime friend and vagabond knew the rules, holding his own as they say, until I could find a proper location to find some relief. There were a lot of lectures around the general area about how the second dose was the one you wanted even those everybody could get a portion of the potion of the first dose. But that was the trip. The trick, the thing that everybody was searching for is how to have a nice part A, part B type of experience.