I used to cringe when my dad said that, no matter the context or setting, Here we are again, like every here we are were connected through something and it was, as I understood growing older, there was a connection but it was him, he was the connection, the thing that made it make sense but now, aeons later, here we are
getting drunk, hoping for redemption or damnation
getting a kebab, retelling what we will once see as mere distractions with a vividity we wil never find again
getting high, because it is what makes sense in a world where there is none
getting there, according to the plan we hatched the last time we really thought about ourselves and this world
getting dreamy, filled with tears of joy and extinction
getting head, the primal vortex closing
getting ahead, of the game, the plan and the direction
Here we are. Us. Friends. Gathered. Around a table eating good food, around a table drinking good drinks and every recollection is awesome and so much happened, it doesnt matter when we became what we became, we are it now and it is time we understood that. Of all the feelings and ideas, understanding is the one we will never need, understanding will always be the red headed nerd, understanding is the fourty year old virgin, understanding is never a prerequisite. What is understanding?
It is my curse. With my hand on my heart or on any book, I understand every little demented thing you will ever do, I will understand why you slaughtered ninety people to promote a manifesto, I will understand why we keep slaves and I will understand why the slaves revolt, I will always understand it when I hear your words, demented, broken and fucked up, I will understand you but nothing more
You shall not be turned from your road for it is your road be it thick and laid with gold or a dwindling path with torns, it is your road, for you we are just an abstract idea you might come to terms with as you see Emilys fog rising, death is the great teacher in any age, when you understand that you will die, when you know that you will die you get nothing else than that understanding. People change their lives to accomodate this sudden new truth, some embrace life and try to squeeze out the juice, others try to make it the best place and end up at the after parties asking everyone wouldnt it be ok if we all died now and is bummed by the reception
Death, I think, is something you only truly realize and understand the impulses your body sends to you and youre going to die, you feel it and I imagine it to be the ultimate catharsis but the idea of dying can be emulated, not in a very philosophical way or thought through, just the realization of that one day you will stop breathing, something as simple as that, an idea that will hit you as you take a shower or youre eating breakfast, reading the news or making breakfast to the little ones that roam your house and make your family but you have to sit down and you zone everything out, everything fades, turns to nothingness and you go blank
If you trained for that moment you are most likely buddha on the other side, if not, you have realized a truth so simple as it stares you in the face that you cant see it on the silverscreen, cant read about it in the daily news, a little wee realization like
every idea that takes root has a life of its own
truths are like dreams, we know what they symbolize but we spend the time explaining what we saw, not what we felt. its not polite
but here we are, still. Friends around a table, dreamers caught in the neverending dragon-chasing, nothing is sacred in our world, we thought it was but it isnt, not every catholic priest likes bumboys, not every loner will one day blow up and detonate part of the world
no chef will never tell you any truth except what is in his food
here we are, broken and at the end of the day something feels like it is emerging and as we go to meet it we fall asleep and as we sleep we are there with it, we have sex but like a dream, the physical is never really important compared to what we feel, who we become as we become more in our dreams, waking to the fresh autumn air and today will be a killing
we are, men and women of dignity, striving to find something, a constant, an anchor in this world as we stand on the overfilled tram, watching the outside before we step off and into our own realities and as we arrive at home we smell our hands that smell of the hands of thousands of others and we wash
yet some times, I wander, I think it is the only reality escape permitted wholly, the escape into the intellect, the creation of theories but I escape into it and feels like it is an escape because I know what I should do, I should bring the species further and in the end tht is all that matters, none will remember us in a hundred years or, in a hundred years we will compete with so many other ages that we have oh so much information on and as we drown our daughters and sons in it only a few will have been remembered and it is dumb luck if your thing caught on
are, constantly filled, overflowing cups feeling thirsty, that craving for sugar if you find yourself in a position where you drink aspartam or saccharine each day, every vegan that looks forward to a tofu burger will break within the year and every unfulfilling conversation and every unfulfilling relationship will bring you closer to the edge and perhaps you will learn that one day you will stop breathing or perhaps you will understand the difference of saccharine and sucrose and you will grasp a little bit more of the world
the world tom waits began to sing
the world where the power listened
in earnest
I really like reading your work, Sepia.
:)