Sometimes I wish that there was a way out of the life I live. I wish that I could transcend the path I have chosen and instead move outside of the form I trace in the universe.
When I am expanded beyond the consciousness of my daily life I am aware of so much beauty in the complex form that life takes. But here, trapped in the body, my conscious mind manifests in I am without control. Only pushed along on the path that has been ordained by the shape of the universe.
How can I find the life that allows me to exist without the considerations of the body and travel into the beyond of human experience? Where is the path that leads me to super-conscious travel in the ocean of the universe?
Its not that the ability to move outward is lacking, its that the form of my daily life requires so much effort that I am distracted by the “now.” I must yield to the tasks that are required by the responsibilities of my life. Wife, daughter, projects of varying scope and magnitude.
I only hold on for the day in which I am truly freed of this oxbow around my mind and I can wander the pathways of dream in a state more awake than life itself.
until that day…
Summer rains are like summer relationships. Tempestuous moments that break away to reveal a hidden order in the heavens.
Yesterday i watched as a flash rainstorm pounded Chicago, bringing it to a standstill. Roads were flooded, timid SUV drivers inching along hoping not to harm their gas for blood vanity machines. I watched as a city was made to stop by the power of rain and water.
Chicago acted like some third world city of shanty towns and pollution. If the rain had lasted much longer people were ready to start looting and rioting. No one had any idea how to deal with the situation (CTA bus drivers took it upon themselves to close Irving Park at Ravenswood and divert CUBs traffic into 2 neighborhoods of one ways streets and cul-de-sacs – inching the city closer to chaos than the rain itself) and I wondered to myself “Isn’t this the 21st century? Its just fucking water! Why is everyone out of their minds?”
But at some point the river of water found itself underground and the people went back to basements filled with slime and ruined furniture. Ikea will be busy this weekend I am sure.
Sometimes I feel alone, even when (almost especially when) I am in a crowded room. As if I have nothing in common with the bodies that flow around me in my daily life. I feel detached, and in that detachment I find a cold comfort.
Why are there so many people in the world? What manifestation has life taken that the mindless numbers continue to grow unchecked by even death? Disease, famine, as all of these things are conquered by the will of mankind and we spill out into space; a virus on the doorstep of eternity, who are we?
What have we become, and what still are we becoming? We know not ourselves yet we seek to impose ourselves on all of time. A vanity of disgrace like a god from ancient Greece. We have our way with the world and there is nothing but time on our side.
I am glad I will be dead before then.
Talking with a friend the other night I realized the impact that our sexual persuasion has on each of us everyday. How what we are attracted to and what thoughts and actions evoke arousal in our libido guide most of us through the territory we inhabit sexually.
Particularly in regards to things outside the norm, or fetishes, we learn from exposure to that sexual situation, from the co-mingling of pain with pleasure that any act can become a sexual act. Removing or wearing shoes, tasting specific forbidden items (foods, fluids, excrement), fantasizing about specific situations and creating situations of pure fantasy. Each of our sexual proclivities traces an overarching form that has evolved based on our shared sexual experiences with others.
This evolving sexual landscape of person to person experience is something that I find both beautiful and horrifying. If any part of my body can learn to become an input point for sexual pleasure (or pain/pleasure) then what value does sex have as a separate paradigm from reproduction? If I can reach orgasm from any form of stimulation I have tuned to be pleasurable then why does sex coincide with reproduction at all?
Perhaps through some shift over time in the evolution of man the orgasm and the structure of human sexual reproduction has become one experience when it naturally occurs as two? Maybe sexual pleasure and reproduction are only coincidentally occurring at the same point in our experiences?
Today I spent a few hours in the afternoon in a mall in the Chicago area. I wandered around and even bought some new shoes while waiting on others. I was astonished by the fact that practically all of the retailers are the same names as when I was a kid in Michigan.
Claires (where I got my ears pierced when I was 15 while my parents were out of town) Wilsons, Spencers, all of the places kids buy posters and t-shirts and books and shoes were the same. They had the same almost dangerous skull t-shirt in the window display, the “I want to look older” girls outfits, all intermingled with the same toothless geriatrics hiding in the air conditioning like some waiting room before dying.
One thing did change that I saw, which was the content of the bookstore. In a Walden books I found 9 shelving units worth of Manga. 4 times the size of the fiction and literature sections. Though the content was toned down from the often violet and pornographic Manga of Japan; the easy to read, fast paced style was intact. Upon asking the manager if this was local (only for this store) she said that all of the Waldens had at least this big a Manga selection and that corporate wanted them to be bigger because of the demand.
Will this badly drawn comic book style become the literature of my daughter’s generation? The form itself could potentially produce artists of great measure (much as english comics did in the 1990s and american in the 1960s) Yet something seems wrong when we have to scale back classic literature to accommodate this disposable entertainment.
In life there is what one would call propriety, the sense of how one should act around another even in an awkward situation. Keeping things civil is part of everyday life in the 21st century. Interoffice romances and who-gives-a-fuck-I-own-this-place bosses aside most of us move through life with what my friend Jacob so eloquently put as “tact”.
Why is it then that some people can not handle the uncomfortable situations of life without complaint? How is it that some of us concede to these inane individuals who through self imposed restrictions choose to live there lives with blinders on, never aware of what is really going on, only going into social situations that are “comfortable” and controlled.
As contrived as these people’s lives must be I wonder at the people who go out of their way to please these individuals. Make them grow up and face reality, I say. I myself know that some people do not like me, but I have learned to face them without care.
To you the reader who may find yourself in the presence of tangled and bitter social situations I give the advice of H.P Lovecraft:
“The world is indeed comic but the joke is on mankind.”