Where was I?
Ah yes, it is in this coffee shop that I finally bend down to retie my laces.
Even when I am a little more measured in my movements, be it contemplation, a knowing of the moment, or mere fatigue, I still tend to move swiftly.
Briskly shuffling along the main city drag, my eyes move about, feeding my mind the reflected light of others, and in the midst of this common, consuming distraction, I feel a certain looseness, a benign unwellness with regard to my left foot.
Down I look, away from the many female frames, the soft faces, dangerous cars, and buildings steeped in the history of so many summers, I find that the laces of my boot have come undone.
It is from this realization that a deeper realization is drawn; my plans for the evening were just to lay about and read (drank a night ago, looked at a screen too intensely today), and here I was rushing along as if I had some place to go.
Moreover, once I had realized that I was in need of a footwear adjustment, I felt a pang of… a certain empty dissatisfaction; it was a feeling that looked at those people that I had passed, the speed which I had unconsciously maintained, and it viewed a cessation of motion as a betrayal, a nullification of what I had accomplished.
And that is the point: there was nothing accomplished in my haste!
I feel this sickness, this delusion to be everywhere in my life, and in human life more generally.
Task after task, day after day, we go and go and go, but by and large, this “progress” is an illusion; it is more of a process to which there is no end, no end but the beginning of some new cycle of distraction, or death.
And so it is here, in this coffee house, that I now sit and contemplate these things which are of value only to myself, these inner thoughts let loose.
For you to read this as I have written it, is akin to you viewing my reflection and seeing what I do. Impossible.
$4 for a short bottle of Orange juice.
It’s okay though, as I know that I am just paying to sit in here and feel less alone than I would feel reading and writing in the comfort of my own abode.
Nearly all parts of our lives, ourselves, is social.
Even our private lives.
I have good work which I would like to accomplish tomorrow, and so I would like to go to sleep relatively early this evening. But, as this day, this Friday, is a day which is commonly held (at least by the employed, the shareholders of the zeitgeist) as a day to rejoice and to relish the company of others.
And so this evening when I curl up in the blankets, regardless of how nice and needed the rest is, there will likely be a feeling within my core that takes note that I am not connecting with others: joking with men, meeting the eyes of women.
No worries, of course.
Though sexuality is a large part of my life, it will not always be so, and I know this.
I have such and such intentions and goals which will only thrive when that inevitable day comes, when I feel less sexually inclined as I do now (as I have for as long as my memory recalls, however vaguely).
What would it be like not to enjoy the sound of good music? What would it be like not to enjoy a delicious meal?
I do not know, and I’d like to
think hope this is not something which is to happen to me in the life of this body.
But the appreciation of women? (how base, forgive me my honesty)
The interest in finding that woman?
One day I may well find myself walking the street, and there may no longer be that persistent desire, the hunger, this attention to the female form and the female face of that female
soul mind that my psychological makeup has woven itself around, formed itself of.
Attraction seems to be like a plant that has grown, developed, coiled itself around certain imaginings and expectations of some type or range of sexed body, be it from actual encounters with women, or from the social web shaped by other factors.
And now, as you do in your own life, I try to fill this coiled shape with some such body, some person, some mind toward the end of sating this desire.
Agnes Obel – The Curse (Official Video)
I dig these beets
SNAKEHIPS – Make It
Point Point – Life In Grey
ODESZA – Sun Models (feat. Madelyn Grant)
Also, the following video is pretty amazing, albeit dark, and also quite sad, given the human cost, and even the necessity (or perceived necessity) of such weaponry, killing.
A combatant films a jet fighter overhead, and the flying machine of destruction turns to face them, dips its nose, and flies straight at the camera! You even see the muzzle flash of the jet’s cannon sending down a volley of hot, kinetic
lead depleted uranium.