Whether I am right or wrong is truly of no consequence.
Besides, life is more than we think and half of the time, in fairness,
nobody knows about who was right or wrong.
In fact, in most cases, all we are is varies of opinion
Then again, we’ll all find out the truth at some point
and then we can lay our crazy little arguments to rest.
Hopefully, at some point, we can all move on to the next chapter of our existence.
My hope is that at some point, we understand that all accounts
have to be settled at the end of business day, which means at one point or another,
there is a time and place where we have to face who we are.
We can no longer escape this.
We have to face what we’ve said and what we’ve done. I say this
because there comes a time when we have to face our truths
and whether we run or not or whether we deny ourselves
or try to change our faces to suit the lies we tell – either way,
a time will come when in the face of truth,
we understand that no matter where we go, there we are.
So, run if you want to. Hide if you choose, but in the end,
there’s really no way to hide from us –
at least not anymore
If at all or if ever, then maybe someday,
I might find myself out east again, in the perfect section of time, perfectly unaware
and happily unsupervised and unattached
without the impending ideas of “something’s on its way”
or something’s in the mail
like when we were kids and there was a note coming home from school –
Remember those times?
Enter the randomness, stage right.
I want to be elsewhere and disconnect
and stand by the lighthouse, all the way at the end of my Island
and thinking about nothing except for the outgoing tides,
which inevitably lead to a place I’ve always dreamed about
The unknown ocean . . .
I am somewhere here, now, and thinking about the absence of gravity
or vacancy of otherwise intense moments or intense things,
which are often screened by people-pleasing or the need to find acceptance
or even just a moment of peace amongst the masses of crazy people –
And oh yes, we do live in a crazy world.
Then again, I’m sure you already knew that.
I want to explore this idea and exist to this place of absence
and enjoy the sheer weightlessness of thinking about nothing
while the sun beams down
and the waves crash against the rock piles at the inlet
at Montauk Point.
Maybe, if anyone else were here, they would assume this is during the summertime
or in the warmer months when the beach is flooded with bodies
and beach towns are crawling with seasonal people.
But no.
This is my dream and, therefore, since I have experienced moments of warmth in colder days,
I imagine myself here, away from everyone – especially the crowds,
and especially the seasonal friendships of summertime intrusions
and the people of no consequence who have no true regard for the end of my Island.
While in my search for quiet, of course, I find myself at some small place – a diner of sorts
which I have only been to once, and to be honest,
I’m not sure if I would know where to find this place nor am I sure this place exist anymore –
but either way, there was a time when I decided to subtract myself from all the “going’s on”
and drove away with no destination in mind.
I drove with no intention, aside from the idea to simply get away,
and yes, I managed to achieve that simple goal.
I listened to music yet, at the same time,
it was as though I was in complete and total silence.
Even my thinking was fine not to interrupt.
I drove out east and found myself
at the end of Long Island, sitting in a small shop
and having a bowl of soup.
To other people, I suppose this might sound ordinary.
Or maybe there’s no interest.
Or maybe the story itself is anticlimactic and yet, to understand better,
I would have to explain that I was at my wit’s end and put simply –
I just needed to get away.
I had to get away from all of the bullshit discussions.
I had to get away from the stupid debates and the political nonsense
of so-called know-it-alls who somehow believe their opinions
supersede the rest of the world.
I had to get away from this.
I had to get away from the wasteful competitions
and the who’s who or the what’s what of status driven minds.
But more, I needed a break from the back and forth banters
that go on around town
with sarcasm being the primary source of language – and yes,
everybody’s a wise ass.
Everybody has something to say.
Even if you didn’t ask for one,
everybody has an opinion
and there it is, the intrusion
of uninvited opinions from people who seem to know best . . .
Had it already been noon, perhaps then, I might have thought “no,”
or if it were later or even earlier; perhaps then, I might have thought differently
about this, as in the world, or you, or the way the sun climbs on a Sunday
and casts a soft hue of orange shades on a small town,
say like
at someplace where no one goes or thinks about because otherwise,
places like this are kept secret, specifically for days like this –
and again, I say this: Enter a new form of randomness
words, just to clear my mind, standing front and center.
Perhaps if I had been born at a different time or in a different era;
perhaps I might have seen the world through different eyes or been there,
live and in the flesh to experience life in a manner unlike now,
in the air of this climate yet here I am and there I go, thinking again –
hence, the reason for this trip,
to be detached and happily uninvolved with the useless dramas
and social back and forth bullshit.
I think sometimes, in the most random directions,
awake as usual, and often staring into the bluish light of a cell phone’s screen,
and past midnight with the hours counting down or ticking away
before I have to face the day again.
I try to reason with myself and think, “If I fall asleep now,
I might get in a few hours. And, maybe this way,
I won’t be so tired tomorrow . . .”
Yeah . . .
I am guilty of scrolling in an almost mindless sense
while looking at quick little reels and videos of mindless entertainment,
which are otherwise meaningless; but still,
sleep can be an evasive thing.
Know what I mean?
I have this little room, right here which
I always envision you can see me while I am writing to you.
I can envision your face, watching; but more, you are listening to me
and for the moment, I am not alone or scared
or worried about what’s to come.
There is no kryptonite here in this place
which is why I’ve built this little studio in my head.
There are no such thing as blemishes or rashes or dry skin
or imperfections of the face, the mind or body alike.
This is the one thing I have which no one can take away –
and, even if I were placed in a SHU
(that’s stands for Special Housing Unit, for those who don’t know)
or placed in solitary, or locked away, or segregated,
or placed in some other kind of hell hole;
this one place I have is the one place I can come and think about things,
like that trip out east where I drove for no reason,
all the way to the end of Long Island.
I found a spot, went in, ate the best bowl of soup in my life –
and then, unaffected and unworried,
I drove home as if to be healed and cleansed
from all the social bullshit and worries
about who’s at work, who’s pissed off,
and who cares (or doesn’t).
I understand this is random but at the same time,
I understand that love like mine for someone like you comes
without the need to explain anything.
I say this because this right here –
this is the one place, I can be myself,
with you, unattached and unhinged from all the bullshit.
No politics. No religion. No reasons to declare God
or explain about houses of worship or mostly,
I think the best part of having this moment before the day starts
is this: I can come here and let you know how I feel,
and then, no matter what happens next, “
the world could end, but –
at least I know that someone out there knows me –
that someone knows my truth
and the rest of the world can go shit if they don’t understand
because at last, I have you
(Always)
So, okay Thursday,
Let’s see what you have in mind
because Wednesday’s gone
and it’s time to move on . . .
Right?
The Written Addiction 