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Nothing To Do But Exist

By Billy | June 29, 2009

“I think if I had one second in your brain, I would completely implode,” she said.

“Yeah, man, can I make a documentary about… just you?  That would be the sweetest thing ever.  We can just drive wherever and I’ll give you complete freedom as long as when I say it’s time to move on, we do.  I can totally get us a sponsor.  Your brain is fuckin’ ridiculous.”

This is my life.  Oh Me!  I just realized… This IS my life.  (I’ve realized that a million and a half times.  Someday I’m going to realize it.)  For now I’ll just have a momentary freak out, that tastes somewhat like rotten/fermented watermelon and carry on with my unrealized mediocre life.  I’ll go to sleep and dream about zombies or something, wake up mad at myself for being useless while I sleep (and doing it for so damned long) laze about for most of the morning, check my e-mail more times than necessary, slip down most of the stairs, eat some free range eggs from a nearby farm, and wait until my next feeding time.  When all is said and done, I’ll start the whole thing over again.

This is my life.  I am constantly waiting, but completely into every step of the way.  I’ve read Thich Nhat Hanh, I’ve read Lao-Tzu.  I’ve read Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Josiah, David, Solomon.  I’ve read Mahavira, I’ve read Gandhi.  I’ve hugged myself and wept, I’ve seen “someone” for ‘this.’  I’ve taken the steps, I’ve painted my feelings.  I’ve breathed, I’ve flown, I’ve fallen, I’ve peaked, I’ve transcended, disappeared, become, existed, hugged, loved, lost, found, hurt, healed, learned, forgotten, played, worked, lead, followed, harmonized, clashed, spoken, listened, attempted, succeeded, failed.  I’ve died.  But no, I have never lived.

This is my life.  I search for it in other things — in noble things, nonetheless.  How pitiful.  How tricksy of me.  How vile.  This is my life: you, your gorgeous eyes, your home, your family, the strangers you’ve never met, and everything they care about.  This is my life: everything but me and what I need.

I understand in percentages and I think in a dimension I only understand 13% of.  I. wont. shut. off.  My most relaxing moments have occurred while I’ve laid in place and realized the complexity in things.  My most relaxing thought has been that I will never understand anything, and the immensity and immediacy of the prospect of trying.  I only get this one shot.

My quiet place makes me cry.

I’d never wish this on anyone, I think, when my friends and sometimes lovers look at me with non-comprehension.  My mind doesn’t make sense to them, and I can’t describe the negative-space-yellow-triangle that seems to be my thought right now, so I will just hold hands for now to get the point out.  If you only knew!  If I only knew!  Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.  If you knew, I’d have to know.  If I knew, I’d have to accept a lot more than I’m ready to.  (More than I want to)

I’d never watch a documentary about myself.  I’d never recommend anyone else watch it, either.  Perhaps it, too, needs a disclaimer.  (I come with a disclaimer, nowadays, Me damn it.)

“Please note by watching this piece, you are becoming stupider.  Any amount of information you believe you have earned, learned, or retained in the next X hours, is actually kernels of anti-knowledge, destroying your very comprehension of the universe.  You. won’t. get. it.  Neither do we.”

(You especially won’t get me)

I imagine it would be in black and white, and I imagine it would be pieced together more than any piece of film ever created.  Years of filming to create a 1.3 hours documentary where the wisest thing I say is a vague metaphor and incomprehensible simile.

A lot of “what if’s” come into my mind.  A lot of them get squashed before they leave the box.  Dust flies when I do so.  I don’t know what that means, but it exhausts me to think of it and completely removes my motivation to write further.  Hey, it’s feeding time…

Topics: Nonfiction, Philosophy, This is my life, Utterly Random, Works of Fiction | Comments Off on Nothing To Do But Exist

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