~kat~ ramblings, observations, & mistranslations
~december 12, 1998~
"man is born free and everywhere he is in chains."
the essence of humanity is slavery. the haunting enslavement of africans for hundreds of years is but a stitch in the shredded cloth of grand slavery, in which we bind ourselves from the day we take our first breath.
now you, take a deep breath: then look around. philosophers have long been appreciated for their unerring insight into the boxes we have built. but what is really the purpose of pointing out the nails, cracks, and crumbling foundation, if only to remind that we are, in fact, locked in a chest of our own construction? societal laws, ethical nuances, good/evil.....these are based on ideas that we have conceived, how can one take them seriously when they are just another invention, a light bulb painted in innuendo and guilt?
i have been pondering these ideas for the last week or so, not exactly in an academic sense, more along the lines of sweet relief. obsession with philosophy is painful, which is why i attempt to take leave of it as much as possible, and only dwell whilst in traffic or on the toilet. i cannot help myself, it is not that i have recently begun to asess reality in her many delicious forms, (i like to think we all wrestle with these ideas from very early on) it is that i have only just decided to make some sort of headway into this field of migrating rights and wrongs.
when i speak of slavery i refer to the rampant bondage around all of us each day. this is our own creation, whether it be in the embarrassed inability to ask some sexy thang out on a date or in the feeding of the need for "things," we are constantly faced with varied forms of slavery. at the verge of the millenium, we are slaves to the grandiose "ism," slaves to "what now?" slaves to apathy. cannot do a thing if we cannot breathe. and how to break the cycles? by acceptance?
is there a way to erase slavery from our hearts, our minds? perhaps it lies in what type of slavery we are engaged in. or perhaps it lies in whether or not we realize we are enslaved. hey! quit socializing me! i've got bills to pay!
~december 07, 1998~
shit.
"i have a home and i take it everywhere that i go."
i am cleaning fervently. it's time, i've been stuck in my usual drab state of motherfuckingambivilence for over a week now. upon arriving home from work tonight i surveyed the disaster and thought, "how empty." if there's anything i hate.....anything that makes me wish for something more finite.....it's emptiness.
dorothy parker used to answer the phone with, "what fresh new hell is this?" and right now i am feeling the stabs of winter, the diciembre-induced introspection, the anger that comes from wishing so desperately for change, but not knowing what to do.....anxiety mixed with frustration.....a twinge of fear.....and no matter how much i fuck, i still feel desire. this isn't a fresh new hell; it's the same goddamn place i've been in since i can remember. strewn across this bedroom floor is the wreckage of my recent hedonism: ashes, condom wrappers, rolling papers, empty pizza boxes, four-day late movies, torn panties.....even a box of chocolates with one bite taken out of each. no satisfaction, i tell you, nothing can soothe this need.
this paradox of explosion/implosion, yet not having enough cojones to pick up the pieces and fashion it into something, anything......(resemblance doesn't matter, neither does recognition, just the crushingly pure triumph of completion).....this ache is alive. it's living, swimming delirious through shaded undertow, itchy backstroke racing to reach the shore. always looking for an end, we humans must create goals for ourselves, a brass ring so that our short term memory doesn't win out. too difficult to enjoy the ride, we push ourselves into homicidal boxes and wonder why we are a species on the verge of extinction.
i read something today, "we've added years to life but not life to years." my stomach grumbles at this modest turn of phrase. tired, so tired, of always looking, always looking.....for what? something as concrete as "the american dream?" or perhaps a more shady thing, less innocuous.....like "easy?" shall we all just sit down and lament the history that has led us to this naked second? tell me about rapes, tell me about sunken ships, tell me about car accidents and new shoes: i will talk for hours with you. but you gotta talk, honey, i'm just gonna listen.....for awhile, anyway.
on the window sill sits a clump of dried wisps, ivy entrails circling the chipped cement. an almost imperceptible breeze filters in, causing the dehydrated vine to quiver only slightly, giving the affect of pain, sadness.....disbelief that death has paid a visit. in this house there is only heavy mineralized water to drink, so dark it could be coffee. no sodas, fruit juices, red wines, or hot toddies. not here, not where simplicity is thought synonymous with lack of choice. many stories have been written, many legends and myths told, as to the perils of "too much information." propaganda, to be sure, how else to explain this negativity towards reason? reason doesn't breed the essential ingredients necessary for subjugation: fear and loneliness. rather, reason helps to eradicate that in which these two spices lie. although not an actual remedy (read somewhere it had something to do with the heart,) reason is a salve and may promote escalation along the path we've all been dreaming of (at least, all of us reasonable people): the path of simple. one must be terrifically amused by the quintessentially pavlovian reaction to simple. amusement, of course, only as the modus operandi necessary to remove oneself from occasionally sociopathic thoughts. were one to attempt to understand the box of society, one would shoot oneself in the proverbial foot: to understand is to be, and once one is, there isn't a grain of hope left for any sort of cosmic salvation. to conquer the enemy, you must become the enemy, but almost as a rule, you must conquer yourself. this state of being is also known as "adult."
when it comes down to it, all this academia is just as impotent as ignorance, just as controlled/manipulated. the power that seems to radiate from behind very thin glass walls on fire. burn this sand, please, because the scent of the burn, the wretched melting of nothing is what i crave, and if it's as simple as just talking out of my ass, i'll be the first in line.