February 21, 2004

  • It used to be ‘summertime and the cemetery’ where I’d break free of a stifling ennui that would, from time to time take hold, and have me blog-tied in unprofessing conundrums.  But in the wintertime, I’m just not Nordic enough to always plop my ass on a pile of snow and lean laptopped against a tombstone colder than even the bodies down, down, down....


    So I’ve taken refuge this morning instead in a coffee shop.  And while writing at an actual table for me is almost comical, I’ll attempt to mesmerize myself into a prosing mood by imagining myself awash in an ocean of spirit beings, sunning on the beach and sand of a newly rediscovered lost nation...Idealand.


    Is that Idea-land or Ideal-and?  I don’t know!  Is ‘nowhere’ no-where or now-here?!  Does it matter where you are if you can lose all the nagging concerns and cares of yesterday and look upon the world anew?


    Mary was a little bland
    Her lips were white as snow
    And every thing that she would kiss
    With death began to glow.


    Okay, where the hell did that verse come from?  ‘Fess up: what/who out there just co-opted me with that nursery rhyme morbidity?  *reminds self that not all muses deserve a tryst*


    I deal land?  Realtorworld!   haha   And it’s all my intellectual property.  Except I eschew using the word ‘intellectual’ to refer to myself or anything of mine.  I’d rather be outtellectual in my outlook and live in the world instead of my head.  Or merge 'in' and 'out' into a form of meditation in action where instinct and intuition play as large a part in life as judgemental response and thoughtful consideration.  Let’s call it ‘wholeness +’: a sense of Jungian integration in the totality of one’s immediacy (which is 'the world' and which Jung calls 'individuation') fused with an indomitable lust for life and an ever state of readiness to react ‘however’ in pursuit/defense of this lust for life quest.  And even if onlookers remark that “that motherfucker is just crazy”, you don’t care because you’ve always gotten away with walking on thin ice, and you’ve never fallen, and it hasn’t cracked enough to swallow you up…yet.  And you proceed with the profound knowledge that in life 'yet' is all we really have ahead.  And you’re one with 'yet'...so far.

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