Directions slow to cresindo.
I had lost my notebook, shoes and mis-placed my fancy math text. Frustrated, all I could do was glimpse down the hill over the trees to see the web of streets I needed to navigate to get to the University - and the classes I was late in attending. I ended up cutting through yet another building. Moving higgily-piggily, outrunning my sight and slammed into Andy Warhol. I pardoned and asked him for directions. He responded politely saying this was the symposium building and that they, too, were searching for answers. I inquired if he and the rest of the students were using the correct accent.
As soon as I realized I did not have to play tag,
"They are all scare and no substance … like a long shadow, but no one's there." - 'Drew, in his political observation noir phase.
His huge bulk wedged inside a telephone booth, he was fuming into the phone over some isolated I cant even remember. The diner’s diners were trying not to notice this frantic man. I was reminded of Twains’s, let us pull the curtain of charity over the moment. The booth conversation ended and he rocked the booth violently to get the folding door open, obviously a well practiced trick, and headed for his stool and the truckers plate waiting at the counter. Then someone hollered HI TINY! I read the booth guys face; absolute glee …. Why are all these huge guys named TINY?
Wierd; how I can remember what is going to happen, but fail to bring up what's past - say, my little brothers birthday is going to be on the 12 of march, but I cant remember when it was last year.
Then I remember I do not have a little brother.
Only a pawn in the big picture.
Coping, great. Settling for, not so much. Argh, I look horrible in uniform stripes. No one told me that ignorance is not an excuse for dismissal. Ignorance, ignore/ance, of the law excuses no man: Not that all men know the law, but because 'tis an excuse every man will plead, and no man can tell how to refute him.
Obviously bliss is not the door I thought I slammed. Dark. Stifling. The kind of dark that your eyes never become adjusted, because there is not the slightest sliver of light.
Then the Choices just got real limited. The proverbial Wrench de Duress. Unchecked doubt will drag most everyone around by the hair; I’ll don’t know … well, I COULD have been sleepwalking and cut the neighbor’s throat …
Mr. Freud are you listening? This couch is as hard as concrete and cold as stone. Life has twists and turns and no matter the plans or how much you second-guess; what happens is usually something you never imagined. That is both the scary part and the exciting part.
Qui tacet consentire.
Reminding me of the old proverb. If its not broken don’t fix it, if its broken don’t fix it.
The mind is so very loud when it is silent.
Wisdom is achieved very slowly. I heard somewhere this is because intellectual knowledge, easily acquired, must be transformed into ‘emotional’, or subconscious knowledge.
Once transformed the imprint is permanent.