Silently, She walks
In a daze
Towards another project
Another goal
Working. Working to set deadlines
A lifetime full of missed opportunities
We swerve and crash into
Another meaningless job
Working to produce
Producing to consume
Consuming to work
As a society
As a member of this structure
Regardless Of morality
Of dreams cast into the dumpster
Work to consume
Live, breath, shit to have it all
Wrinkled and gray in your palace of junk,
Was it worth it?
what we choose is
Not a choice, but an accident
Who even believes a word they say?
Our pulse is the only truth
Sprawling towards the unknown
I pause and curl up
In your cozy body
Breath in your luscious scent
Forget what he and she said
Until I pick up my month-long suitcase
A traveling show
Onto the next money making
Mind bending
Stress inducing
Appetite of my life.
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forceful. i like the line “wrinkled and gray in your palace of junk” - could be interpreted as the eventual conclusion of a lifetime spent collecting meaningless commodities or the present state of your brain in a blitzkrieg of infobits, which is really the same thing.
BUY NOTHING NOV. 25th! (it ain’t fuckin easy!)
Also, this made me think of this “anti-commercial” I saw tonight, which originally aired on broadcast t.v. in the early 70’s in Chicago, because of a law (this shit is crazy…) that forced networks to give time to “anti-commercials” to air along with the actual commercials for the benefit of the public good! It was just scrolling text on the screen that talked about the cycle of production and commerce through commercial television, and how the viewer is really the product being harvested and sold by the networks to be consumed by the advertisers. Then, on average, each viewer pays the advertiser $40 (that’s what it was in the 70’s… I’m sure it’s much higher now) for the priviledge of having been consumed. In other words, we go out and buy and consume the advertiser’s products - for instance, another Sony television to fill that blank gap of wallspace. Simmer on that one while you’re shoplifting on Buy Nothing Day.
November 9th, 2005 | #
Camus: “Rising, tram, four hours in the office or factory, meal, tram, four hours of work, meal, sleep and Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday, according to the same rhythm - this path is easily followed most of the time. But one day the ‘why’ arises and everything begins in that weariness tinged with amazement.”
Later in the same essay: “A man is talking on the telephone behind a glass partition; you cannot hear him but you see his incomprehensible dumb-show: you wonder why he is alive.”
He tells us that life is absurd (An Absurd Reasoning, in the Myth of Sisyphus), and he goes on to explain how we must accept this as our basis and then rebel against life by reveling in absurdity (or some such). Kerouac and Nietzsche really did the same thing. Buddhism, too, starts by saying ‘life is suffering’, and then seeks to stop this suffering. They all, we all, are saying the same thing. The main point is to find the next step. What, in an absurd existence, where God not only doesn’t exist but is not even desired, do we tell ourselves to make life worth itself? In any case, these are the thoughts that came to my head after reading the poem.
November 9th, 2005 | #
Now is desire. Desire is the not now.
Desire is life. “Life is now is life.” Life is desire.
The not now is desire. Desire is now.
November 9th, 2005 | #