Friday, August 24, 2007

the freestyling needs discipline but bear with the chatter-natter (persistence makes the minor character a Lead)

I wake up this morning drowning from last night's storm in old memories, surprising only for their clarity: the touch of crispy grid-cotton white uniform on taut, brown skin; the smell of longing in early morning misty hours, a secreted phone conversation immediately post-parting saying, "I love the sound of your voice"; anesthetic aesthetic of brown-mahogany deli tables, a conversation years later discussing that evaporated possibility ... men. I'm hungry.

That wafty post-colonial post-Romantic boarding-school-import-education-infused, forest-longing, escapist-songing, melomamadrama of Arundhati Roy has given me rose-colored cornea for the last couple days. For all her repetition and paperback two-word sentence punch-tuation, apparently, it has opened up my own past to the realm of senses I was too devastatingly lonely to notice, then.

"Then" is a word that can say a lot. There is a lot of space between the recognition of "now" and "then". What words have we for those spaces? "Just before", "around that time", "in the period of"... no no no. Between "now" and "then" there is a heavy confounding of breath molecules and invocation of postures, gestures, unfulfillments, exciting heights. A bubbly brew in the cortices. A trip. A travel guide, for which you wait and hope for a title. But when? Where are we going?

Did you know? According to journalist and spiritualist writer, Guy Murchie, with each breath you take into your body 10 sextillion atoms, and--owing to the wind's ceaseless circulation--over a year's time you have intimate relations with oxygen molecules exhaled by every person alive, as well as by everyone who ever lived. So says Rob. Go on. Click the weblink. Your Socratic brain says it's all hobbledy gobbledy fake-is-feel-good Gaia-one-earth predatory-soul-lending. But you want it. You want your future told like that forbidden fourth scoop of ice cream. You want it like the itch you can't scratch, the pimple you can't squeeze, the happy couple...at the other end of the bus. You look to your reflection between the gaps of the stick-on advertising on the windows of this double-decker. You try to make it look to an imaginary other people that you are staring romantically at the wonders of the old city when what you are really doing is making sure you are still there and that it is still the image of you that sits on this seat.

Interesting use of hyper-hyphenetics produces amalgams both adjectival and noun, depending on the reading. Spoken aloud, a previous sentence should rather end with "predata-metada-soul-lust-mortgage-lending" in order to complete the steps (of the word dance). Like this: "YOUR SoCRAtic BRAIN says IT'S all HObbledy GObbledy FAKE-is-FEEL-good GAIa-ONE-earth PREdata-MEtada-SOUL-lust-MORTgage-LENding." Can you tell I've spent hours researching Theodor Seuss Geisel and systems of scansion? But go on--click on some freewill star-logic. Believe a little. Lick that cone. Smear "nuss" flavor on your lips like lipstick. Then tread gleefully past the borders of your pink with this naughty wet like a greedy kiss on a wintry autumn night.

The news today, in sum:

adjustable rate mortages ninjas no income no jobs no assets multiple properties fraud involved buyers sellers brokers and appraisers devastated Cleveland people take loans they can't afford predatory lending been the subject of a lot of consumer side perspective inappropriate loans often through aggresive suits the borrower that they can't afford when it resets marketed consumer understands not all sub-prime lending. Give me examples of when you came across really shouldn't have taken them.

Accounting:

2 hours since I came back from breakfast and word count minus news transcription equalled 341. Damn. But I finished researching the Dada catholics and current Indo-feminist writers Marian and I talked about yesterday. And everything from Brahman-Atman to Spinoza to the Gnostics that I owed myself and evolution to know. Knowing is my drug (upper). Better than sex? I am giggly with joy that there is a literature festival here in September. In this exile, in the vastness of unwanted choice and budget travel survivalism, I feel worlds of desire colliding like tectonic plates in my skull. America, Europe, Singapore, haha what a size differential, high school, college, systems of thought, systems of status, dreams, hopes, fears, old, new, Old World, New World, culture, citation, dreams, always something to talk about, always something to do, freedom of being, freedom of belonging, heaviness of being, heaviness of belonging, laziness, comfort, appropriate, ugly duckling, paunch, wanting to be, never enough, thinking too much. Recreation and profession. Leisure, life, application, "usefulness". When he was around 45 (he retired when he was 49), my father took a wood-turning course in England where he learned to turn goblets and bowls and spoons.

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