We Are Moving Backwards in Time, I Believe.
I’m considering a life of uneducated fuckery. A life full of Jacob’s Creek and a cabinet full of The Carpenters’ albums. I’m considering quitting. Like, everything. Job. Family. Friends. Society. I’m considering that all ropes have ends and that inevitably those ends fray. I’m considering becoming a fray. A lone thread separated from the illusion of oneness. I am considering the life of a headphone wire: tangled and lacking remorse.
I am thinking of taking off all of these silly garments, frumpy as they are, and running naked through the streets of my suburb: knotty, grease riddled hair of my body flapping in the air like the wet wings of a thousand tiny seagulls. I am thinking of filling the streets with my unbathed stench, stirring a hot wind like the burping of clams into the mouth of my Confederate neighbors. Maybe then they will keep their traps closed and their eyes on their own disheveled lawns.
I am considering food: I think I will simply live off of the sustenance of my own ego. The weight of which seems enough to last me the months to come.
I am considering sex, but it is exhausting.
I am considering a life of unbridled anger. Of release upon every rising tingle of a nerve. I am considering removing the wall from between my frontal lobe and the rest of my quivering brain. I am considering letting the neurotic jelly out onto the toast fields of Self.
I am considering the tides of great oceans and how they do not stop their rage for the sake of krill, or flounder or shark.
I am considering becoming the tide of my own life. Giving no way. Heeding no call. Carving my will into the sands of society like time ticking away the cliffs. I am considering the rose and its inevitable wilting. I am thinking I should like to wilt. To slowly cave in on myself. A life in slavery to the seasons but free of choice.
I am considering purchasing an Ikea table. Because waste is the sign of greatness and I have too long been conscious of decay. I have considered ignorance and found it blissful. Save for when consideration becomes contemplation. I have considered contemplation and found that casting shadows is the calling of the light. These realizations always cloud my judgment with clarity.
These realizations always cloud my judgment with clarity.
I am considering the oxymoron and whether to be offended by its connotations. What really, is an oxygen filled moron but the flopping of a human tongue in the wind?
I am considering that this is just an exercise of mind and finger and tongue. But I am also considering that there is an echo of truth in all the caves explored by men. That absurdity is the only gauranteed Truth. That Irony is the justice of a Soul’s gavel in the Court of Mind.
I’m considering that salt water is the result of infinity crying, or maybe of the sky’s laughter, or of two colliding stars — one made from the tragedy of atoms and one from the comedy of quarks.
I am considering that we are all moving backward in time. And if so, you must be so bored rereading this again. And again. And again.