Thursday, July 30, 2009

Don't call it a comeback (I've been here for years)

It doesn't take much to be happy.  All children know this; give them a stick and a ball and the great outdoors and they  are free.  

Television, we are bored without it.  Internet, makes us lonely without it.  Stimulating, titillating only to withdraw, leaving us dazed and numb to the simple pleasures.  

To sleep when sleeping, eat while eating, be while being.  Life and nothing more.  

We don't need much to happy.  A simple smile, and the basics, and we feel that warmth and energy inside of us.  You know that feeling, don't you?  The one that springs forth in effervescent bursts, where you feel happy being who you really are; a child of heaven and earth, both the sun and the sky.  My My My.   


Bare your feet in the soil of our mother and feel that cool warmth.  This is where you are meant to be, always. 

Some acts, even when performed for the first time, make you feel as if you have been and done them before.  A connection.  Re-legion; reconnection.  A religious experience.    

Swimming in the sea.  Feeling the sun brighten your childhood.  Love making.  Wine.  Meat.  Killing a man??

Yes, take me back to the essence, to the pure and harmonic, instinctual virtue.  When the Lion didn't apologize.    

But being there means no consciousness.  No literature, no art that is self-referential.  Though there will be dancing and singing, of course, though you won't remember enough of it to package and sell.  It will pass through you, like a rose does, in the desert, alone and free, both in its beauty and in its demise.  But it bloomed.  It bloomed for you:  ((((((()))))))    

Can you let go?  Can you go back?  Has the illusions of the modern world become more real than reality?  

I feel a rush with technology.  I can't imagine my life without popular culture.  Nature is over-rated.  I want to be moved while sitting still, in an office, during a meeting, I want all these thoughts and desires to rush into my head, converge into one big cataclysm.  

Cry, break free, and yearn for something better, always, that's what I want.  Always on the run, the ups and the downs.  Modern man, hear me blog and text, and live in an alternate universe where I am who I want to be.

What does this all mean?  Do these questions even matter, any more?  They hurt and torture me less, though I express them better.  My anguish has given forth to cogency.  It doesn't feel the same.  And I miss that.  I would give up clarity for opacity for it gives birth to ambiguity; the mother of all genius and ecstasy.  Contentment is not always a good thing.

When we don't need all this junk to make us happy, why do we do it, and why can't we live with out it?  

Life is more than "happiness".  

Creation, destruction, absurdity, resurgence.  To feel the Earth move, under your feet and the sky fall.  

No looking back.  Head into the abyss.  

Get your kicks before it's all over.          


1 comment:

Ziad Rizk ( said...

This vignette was many things at once and had interesting surprises like when you added "Kill a man" - it reminded me of Camus' Outsider who refuses to "play the game" as it were.. the more civilized we've become the more savage we've become, the de-sensitization makes more people take less responsibility, less participation, less human.. another illustraion I like is from Kundera- how we literally hide the shit- that our villas, palaces, skyscrapers, roads, cities are Venices floating on shit that flows underneath;)
Art is not to eradicate the ugly but to take the ugly and make it beautiful, to love someone is to love her with all her inevitable ugliness..;) cheers -Ziad