Snippets from the road
I'm in a motel on the estern edge of Ohio. After two days of travel and mishaps and way too much food, we're not there yet. This feels pretty much like a tiny little very efficent metaphor for life. The goal and destination, beyond a dim shadow, are just assumptions. The problems and personal strife seems larger than life itself. And this damn thing just doesn't seem to want to end.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my generation. We are beautiful people with a hope for the future. But reading Dr. Thompson today I was struck by the truth of the following, "Let's get back to Generation Z & its Lush and Extravagant birthright in this year of Our Lord 2000 ... it may be a Mixed blessing to be hatched at the top of the heap. Indeed. The Stock Market might crash, crazed Muslim terrorists might put Nerve Gas or Anthrax in your drinking water, Your daughter might get rabies or turn into a famous Porno slut with two Junkie boyfriends who will Hack into your secret Computer Code & loot your Bank Acounts ... But these are Uptown Problems, for sure, compated to being born in a Great Depression of forced to join a Hitler Youth Brigade at the end of WW2. Nobody is ever going to feel sorry for the gilded little sots of Generation Z." (Hey Rube, p10) And I don't think they should. More and more I've been thinking of the lifestyle of the people in Sri Lanka. So much more honest and to the point of getting on with existance. IN driving past the myriad of shopping malls and TA truck plazas I've come to wonder if the development of our land isn't a short term solution that doesn't work cause the problem is both intractable and inherant within the very way in which we live. Growth for growths sake. America has gone from being an elegant and beautiful land of plenty, growing adolescent full of promise ... to being a staggering brute, off balance and vulnerable without knowing it, an overgrown bully with a pituitary gland issue.
This is oddly sort of akin to how I feel about myself at present. Over developed. Over thought. Just the lack of pure sensory experience and communication. Ben feels this. I don't know exactly where he's at with his headspace, but I think he's seriously plugged in to the fact that in our all desperate search for growth, edge, interest rate advantage or whatever your bag may be, we miss each other. Too many wonderful glances across a room or a bus (rather than being a fleeting moment of serendipity) are tempered by fear and potential danger. It should be sweet but my taste buds are in the wrong place. Is anybody even reading this. I mean beyond the "yes you're saying words so I have to acknowledge them or feel like a dick" I mean do any of the things I feel are real exist to anyone else. If they don't should I push that, or should I just resign myself to the "fuck it" motto of my generation? They don't want participation, and despite what they say it feels like they really don't want your opinion, or to hear about your day. This is all likely the product of a long series of transactions with fleeting characters in a 1,000 mile odyssey. But I feel this way when I stay at home sometimes too. One thing is for sure, in rereading the preceeding line I'm totally unsure of who "they" are or why "they're" being such dicks to me. I'm pretty sure it's cause they don't like my hair. Adults always hate my hair. Come to think of it, being an adult now (of some sort) I hate my hair. I hate my whole laid back attitude that mocks the serious effort I make when I get up to go to work.
There doesn't seem to be any point here. I'm not sure there should be. but to all those who know I mean it "I love you". To everyone who will ask me to explain my decision making processes or emotional state in the next few months, "whoops". The good news lies here folks, I'm coming to believe in fate because I'm coming to believe in a basic level of determinism in human personalities. There are only certain Jake's that could exist without ceasing to be Jake. There is no universe where Jake killed Anna. I spent some time worrying about that, indicative of too much experimentation with substances, but I did wonder. But that isn't me so there isn't a potential now where I did that. In that vein of logic, only being resigned to having no real control over the course of (love, faith, employment, death, etc.) will allow me to transcend overcompensating and to allow who I am to dictate what transpires. I think it really is that easy to take you fear out of the equation. If I could do that then I can live squarely in the knowledge that things will end up where they should. They always have up to now. A philosophy proffessor would so rip this apart. People please, should you read this please respond and tell me if you found a point or anything of any logical coherance. I'd like to know what you think though, cause I'm not even sure what it is I've tried to say here. But I know that it will all be ok. Couldn't tell you why, but if we smile and are earnest ...
Well me of course.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my generation. We are beautiful people with a hope for the future. But reading Dr. Thompson today I was struck by the truth of the following, "Let's get back to Generation Z & its Lush and Extravagant birthright in this year of Our Lord 2000 ... it may be a Mixed blessing to be hatched at the top of the heap. Indeed. The Stock Market might crash, crazed Muslim terrorists might put Nerve Gas or Anthrax in your drinking water, Your daughter might get rabies or turn into a famous Porno slut with two Junkie boyfriends who will Hack into your secret Computer Code & loot your Bank Acounts ... But these are Uptown Problems, for sure, compated to being born in a Great Depression of forced to join a Hitler Youth Brigade at the end of WW2. Nobody is ever going to feel sorry for the gilded little sots of Generation Z." (Hey Rube, p10) And I don't think they should. More and more I've been thinking of the lifestyle of the people in Sri Lanka. So much more honest and to the point of getting on with existance. IN driving past the myriad of shopping malls and TA truck plazas I've come to wonder if the development of our land isn't a short term solution that doesn't work cause the problem is both intractable and inherant within the very way in which we live. Growth for growths sake. America has gone from being an elegant and beautiful land of plenty, growing adolescent full of promise ... to being a staggering brute, off balance and vulnerable without knowing it, an overgrown bully with a pituitary gland issue.
This is oddly sort of akin to how I feel about myself at present. Over developed. Over thought. Just the lack of pure sensory experience and communication. Ben feels this. I don't know exactly where he's at with his headspace, but I think he's seriously plugged in to the fact that in our all desperate search for growth, edge, interest rate advantage or whatever your bag may be, we miss each other. Too many wonderful glances across a room or a bus (rather than being a fleeting moment of serendipity) are tempered by fear and potential danger. It should be sweet but my taste buds are in the wrong place. Is anybody even reading this. I mean beyond the "yes you're saying words so I have to acknowledge them or feel like a dick" I mean do any of the things I feel are real exist to anyone else. If they don't should I push that, or should I just resign myself to the "fuck it" motto of my generation? They don't want participation, and despite what they say it feels like they really don't want your opinion, or to hear about your day. This is all likely the product of a long series of transactions with fleeting characters in a 1,000 mile odyssey. But I feel this way when I stay at home sometimes too. One thing is for sure, in rereading the preceeding line I'm totally unsure of who "they" are or why "they're" being such dicks to me. I'm pretty sure it's cause they don't like my hair. Adults always hate my hair. Come to think of it, being an adult now (of some sort) I hate my hair. I hate my whole laid back attitude that mocks the serious effort I make when I get up to go to work.
There doesn't seem to be any point here. I'm not sure there should be. but to all those who know I mean it "I love you". To everyone who will ask me to explain my decision making processes or emotional state in the next few months, "whoops". The good news lies here folks, I'm coming to believe in fate because I'm coming to believe in a basic level of determinism in human personalities. There are only certain Jake's that could exist without ceasing to be Jake. There is no universe where Jake killed Anna. I spent some time worrying about that, indicative of too much experimentation with substances, but I did wonder. But that isn't me so there isn't a potential now where I did that. In that vein of logic, only being resigned to having no real control over the course of (love, faith, employment, death, etc.) will allow me to transcend overcompensating and to allow who I am to dictate what transpires. I think it really is that easy to take you fear out of the equation. If I could do that then I can live squarely in the knowledge that things will end up where they should. They always have up to now. A philosophy proffessor would so rip this apart. People please, should you read this please respond and tell me if you found a point or anything of any logical coherance. I'd like to know what you think though, cause I'm not even sure what it is I've tried to say here. But I know that it will all be ok. Couldn't tell you why, but if we smile and are earnest ...
Well me of course.
posted by pepekeroauc at 6:52 PM
1 comments
