As a character in my life story, I think it’s fair to ask, “What do I want?” What answers is not the must of post-modern revisionists’: “Show the soul-less soul, be textually self-conscious…”
By 1986 I am ex post contemporary, for sure, no adolescent “the brass ring I’ve been chasing…” crap here. It is not that this is it, but that this is this: each passing hour, day, week – so familiar.
In these parts of five seasons, we’re in winter…at that point where spring sounds mythic – our lives forever cold in these frozen eons of boxes within circles within wheels within…
Sun rise. Sun set. Even in sleep the body aches, the mind breaks…
Sun rise. Sun set.
But I suppose there’s more I want…either to get or to do. I’m getting to do what lets me feel like I’m doing what I want to be doing.
Things change every moment – and just how long is a moment? What gets resolved remains unsolved: “poo tweet!” (What was Vonnegut’s first name…oh yeah, Kurt! Yes, yes…”Make me young!”)
What is happiness? How do we get it? How do we keep it in a world of constant sorrow? Or have we really forgotten what is happening?
If it is interesting to me, and if I wish to share that beyond myself, then this writing is filled with that desire – one that’ll be long gone by the time you read this [A concept that I’ve mentioned before].
I want song and friends and health too! Hundreds of dollars each and every day, and good food and drink, and always a safe comfortable place to sleep to let the aches restore themselves, the mind to rest and dream without waking me until the sun rises through our hallway window.
Then up and at ‘em! Let’s see how we can do today even better
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