| The expected: I say something witty and introduce myself. You read it and clap for the dancing clown.
The reality: I'm me and you're you. We'll probably never meet. Neither of us really cares, either.
Let's leave the bullshit behind us for this trip, all right?
I was walking down the street the other day (plot point #1: I live in NY, as in City, as in I'm a native born and raised here) people watching. I do that a lot. People are, I find, endlessly interesting.
The sky was a crystal clear blue, the color of heartache, and a breeze filtered down from on high just to whisk away the blessings of your mother while you crossed the street heedless of traffic.
There was a guy ahead of me, walking his dog. Every few feet this dog would tug on its leash and glance towards the guy pitifully. This mutt just didn't want to walk anywhere, but the guy insisted, tugging and sighing down at his pooch. He didn't get it. He took his dog out for a walk every day; you could see the years of walks etched deeply into his face, but the act was a burden on him. The love for his pet, well it was there somewhere to be sure, but time had buried it deeply.
The dog didn't know any better. The looks he gave his owner were full of adoration and love and confusion. Why wouldn't he stop so the dog could sit for a minute and enjoy the day? What was the rush?
Who knows. Maybe he had a hot date back at home, or perhaps he just wanted to stop at a Starbucks and get a cuppa. Whatever his reasons, the dog had no hope of understanding them.
We pass so many days like that, I fear. Lost in our own worlds and ignoring the outside forces that tug and pluck at our sleeves like minstrels. We're trained to do it, I think. It's what's inside that counts, I've heard it said.
Now, that may be true, but the outside matters too.
The world matters.
Fucking hell that sounds quaint and bull shitty. I feel false just typing it here, alone while my cat sleeps on the couch and I type while Tom Waits sings. Sadly it's also true. Now you hold on while I get another beer and then I can explain this better. No, trust me.
Still there? Good. The thing is, what we don't know can still hurt us just as bad as that train we see rushing towards us at speed. Shit fire and damnation, it can hurt us worse.
Sometimes we just want to sit and enjoy the day. Why is that so wrong? What's wrong with this world that we're not supposed to take the time to just do nothing without being condemned for slacking or bumming around?
Wasn't that the goal of civilization and our own American society for decades? In the future we'll have kitchens that will cook and clean for us so that we can sit around and relax for a change--isn't that how the story goes? I've been seeing versions of that story for as long as I can remember and have seen it written from long before I was around to see it run. I'm sick to hell of the repeats.
What's so blasted important? Where's the fire? What's the rush?
I don't know, but I can feel the wolf at my heels if I close my eyes. I learned it from my parents, they learned it from their folks, and you can feel it too if you stop for a second and just let go. The mad rush, the adrenal surge, the labored breathing of the chase, you can feel them can't you? The way your blood seems to boil in your veins as you keep running just one more block? The promise of safety looms ahead of you but never gets closer, am I right?
So why the fuck do we keep running?
I'm sick of running. I'm tired of punching shadows. You know, I've never seen this wolf that they tell me is back there. I just run from the fucker like everyone else.
We're all in a Sam Raimi film, aren't we? We're told something is chasing us. We get the sense of movement and the thrill of being hunted, but if we look back it's just a cameraman running through the woods.
I keep coming back to that dog. That poor dog. All he wanted to do was sit and look around for a few minutes. Maybe bark at a bird or sniff something on the ground, nothing huge or life altering.
Just sit.
Fucked up world we've built for ourselves here, folks. So yeah. Month in and month out, as long as they'll have me, I want to look at this stuff we've created and take it apart a bit more. I want to nudge at the stress points and try to break them apart a little, just to let the light in.
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