Time is not flammable

Time is not flammable

We are perpetually in the same location: housed in our minds. I would often attempt to vacate (with varied degrees of success – I think). But now, there is no place I’d rather be. We are amused within an amorphous mass at mass – a series of electrical impulses firing like a pop-rock and Coca-Cola fueled fantasy. And to combat this actualized surrealism, we attempt to spend time outside to place our toes in the grass as they undulate playfully and get licked by the sun. Let our minds be washed of this facade of debt: let us pray. Let us pray: for everyone everywhere, for we are all on the same boat, and that boat is taking water. Let us pray: for the man hanging on the stock markets’ perpetual precum. Let us pray: for our mothers and grandmothers to whom all families are indebted – always and forever. Let us pray: for bountiful crops and crop tops – to nourish our bellies and summertime aspirations. Let us pray: for all the new mothers – new faceless particulates blanket our earth. Let us pray: for the part of our life we left behind and wish we hadn’t. Let us pray: for the courage to trim the metaphorical fat off our metaphorical minds. Let us pray: for the humility to listen to the natural world. Let us pray: for the willingness to accept that everything is happening as it should. Let us pray: for accessible bandwidth to listen, create, and absorb radical ideas implemented to lay the bedrock of an updated social, psychological, and economical model of living. Let us pray…

Earlier in the evening, before I slashed the tires of my girlfriend’s car parked in her parents’ driveway, we were fighting on the road. I was drunk (Ketel One dirty martinis and cocaine if I recall correctly) and crazy – like a legit no shoelace having talking to myself crazy. As she and I were fighting, I had a visual of doing a front flip into oncoming traffic, to apparently, show her. What exactly? I am not sure – maybe to exhibit my athleticism and windshield smashing ability. I am glad I didn’t. I am glad I didn’t because I most likely would have lived; and from clean-up to insurance claim, it would have been an enormous hassle (at least I think that kept me from performing the act). And after my third somersault into the row of nascent “sky pencil” holly shrubs lining the sidewalk next to the road, I had a moment of clarity. Because I knew I would have lived, I saw the act as nothing but a springboard into an Olympic size pool of superfluous paperwork.

Let us pray: for more denial and more serenity – we need a lot of both to carry us through.


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