(if
they can, in fact, adapt): through struggle or (and) through an
ignorance of struggle. Complications emerge; struggling ignorance,
ignoring struggle struggle, ignorance ignorance struggle, struggling struggling. Fine. Let us suppose, for a
heartbeat, that everyone is not fully conscious all of the time (is).
What follows are simply musings on the aftermath of a storm.
I’ve decided to give more serious thought to becoming a mortician.
Roscoe
ate paint, plastic; he appreciated Enya. During the storm my
ex-boyfriend picked him up to comfort him, he had a heart attack on his
shoulder and died. Changes in barometric pressure see the ends of
birds, chipmunks. Indoor cats, extraordinarily rare. I believe Roscoe
was a God. He fully experienced what the rest of us could not. I am
still in love with said ex.
“History doesn’t repeat itself; But it rhymes.” Mark Twain.
I
fled the aftermath of the hurricane. I drove to Maryland. I waited in
line at a gas station off the Jersey turnpike for an hour. Droves of
women and men in sweatpants sauntered up to the pumps with gas cans the
size of kegs. Chinese families ran around vans, switching seats.
Relief
efforts are now being struck in Manhattan, spearheaded by a group of
hearty and loveable freaks and queers carrying cupcakes.
A few weeks ago, I traveled to Pittsburgh and saw Che.
Candle makers and bartenders are exempt from questioning their life choices.
Creation is more essential than presenting creation. Audience is a luxury. Flatulence is the key to understanding this.
Who is your family? What is your modus operandi?
“My
wife's jealousy is getting ridiculous. The other day she looked at my
calendar and wanted to know who May was.” - Rodney Dangerfield
Memory is not stored in the brain, but in bones, triggered by resonance, sparked by endorphins, shocked.
Life is generally composed of the act of forgetting to remember.
“I
want to learn more and more to see as beautiful what is necessary in
things; then I shall be one of those who make things beautiful. Amor fati:
let that be my love henceforth! I do not want to wage war against what
is ugly. I do not want to accuse; I do not even want to accuse those who
accuse. Looking away shall be my only negation.” - Friedrich Nietzsche
I left my pomade at Goodbye Blue Monday.
