Wednesday, October 5, 2016

TIME TO



TIME TO

It is tiring; this pain. The residual effect of surgeries and twirling thoughts of this life diminished. There is no drug that allows for painless life and none that eases the pain of a world in self-destruct mode. The only cure that is analgesic is to not give mind to any feeling.

Time to smoke.

It’s three, the stars are seen for the first time in days. The asphalt, still wet from 25 inches of rain and covered in leaves that were too weak to hang on this late in the year. A lone dog barks in clipped sounds leaving an impression that is night, this night is unlike any other yet the same as all other remembered nights.

Time to prepare coffee.

Sitting in front of this pixilated life, the glow muted by a lamp. No one cares if I wear a shirt as long as I observe and agree with whatever is bothering them now. I do not need to have seen another person recently or ever to come to know them beyond what they decide to show. As long as I participate in their digital life without contention I am... Can there ever be discussion/conversation/debate with someone miles and hours away? Is concord the order of the new world order? Must I agree even though agreement is counterintuitive? I never have been easily agreeable? To what do I owe allegiance? My own purse is empty, any prize won is long gone, the tanks are dry but I must for appearances sake, agree that this one or that one deserves a life more than what I am able to have for my own?

Time to be silent.

It does not matter if I am young or old. All that matters is that I feel worn out, used up, bent by time and understanding. I am enslaved by a life I did not put the order to, tides I did not swim in or against. I am guilty not by what I did or did not do but by my skin. I am privileged not by my wealth or by my ethic but because them who have more than I, say it is so. I have paid and continue to pay for every benefit others accrue while them earned in my own time are taken and trampled. I saved a dime only to watch eight cents go to someone, something not of my choosing.

Time to back out.

I was too young to know the world’s years without war. I have never known peace as anything other than five letters and a definition. Violence, intimidation, oppression, militarism, nationalism, trickery, stampeded by the gaining of wealth by them who are wealthy already, murder, mayhem, and the taking a piece of glory from the reputation for all of it. There may have been a point where some sense was able to be made, but whatever the point was it is now fractured into ten thousand times ten million shards; each ready to cut and bleed whatever life there is from whomever ventures into the current maelstrom of discord. There is not enough caution in the world to stop anyone from walking on the broken pieces. Blood was precious at one time, now it has no value.

Time to

quit.

© M Durfee
10/4/2016


           

16 comments:

  1. Savor the coffee and the stars at night. Don't quit just to despite them who would steal your remaining two cents.

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    1. Jeff I don't know what more I can quit other than being upright and breathing and that I can't do. I am just--worn out, I suppose is a good enough term. But even an old shoe has value to it. The leather can be repurposed to some other use--I am looking for that.

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  2. Replies
    1. Jean I am mostly sleep deprived. Sleeping is not something I look forward to because I know that I will wake mostly immobilized in pain from my shoulders to my neck. Thus the surgery reference as it relates to me. 1 surgery too far.

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  3. You are always welcome to come argue at my place, even if I don't really show very much. It's your disagreable... um...ness that I value.

    I know that feeling of being expected to not argue. If I were a little less honest I'd be a lot more popular in blogland.

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    Replies
    1. Alice if you were more popular in Blogland I wouldn't come to argue so much. You have shown me sights I never even would have thought of to see. I am grateful for that.

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  4. I hear a deep sadness and despair in your voice Mark ~ Time to take a deep breath and marvel at the stars at night ~ They twinkle, so far away from us, unknowing that their light is beautiful to the beholder ~

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    1. There is a deep and abiding sadness Grace. I have wasted too much time that can never be recovered or brought back and worse yet I do not find the desire to go back. I do not despair though for in the reordering of my being I am finding a way to accept the new (now old) boundaries.

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  5. Good beans and perfect reminder: time to make coffee.

    Social media is a strange space, whether in concord or for trolling. Inner space, inter-space, intras-space, interzonia. Cityscapes are strange, too. Nighttime is strange. Daytime is strange. Strangers in a strange land in the night of the iguana.

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    1. Aye Erik, the attraction of the pixilated way is near a drug. But it is not a truth serum, that is what most people forget.

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  6. I value you and I deeply appreciate your input to my blog.

    You make a difference during the many times I feel worn out, used up, bent by time and understanding, enslaved by a life I did not put the order to.....

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    1. Thank you Kylie, your blog is a source of refreshment to me. I like the taking on the way you do of the every day. It is humbling.

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  7. "Violence, intimidation, oppression, militarism, nationalism, trickery, stampeded by the gaining of wealth by them who are wealthy already" ... well said friend meowpoppa ... we grew up with this, and it's bad, but not really cuz it gave us the stamina and the weapons to survive, not? Love you much, cat.

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    Replies
    1. U dropped me off Ur bloglist, hmmm?

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    2. Did not Meowmomma. You're still there.

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So Walking Man I was thinking...