A Random Image

Jett Superior laid this on you on || October 23, 2003 || 10:34 am

I hear a voice from my soul’s core sayin’ freedom’s just a metaphor.

Listenin’ to fellas with gravelly voices and everyday words strung together with the amazing skill that makes silk purses from sows’ ears (there’s forty ways to use ‘and’, but only a couple-three work out to be magic) is the best accompaniment to introspection. A life gone unexamined isn’t a life atall from what you hear in the papers, but pulling up a microscope on the fibers of your memory and heart is a sweaty experience. It takes a certain weight of will to torture yourself in such a manner, yet not get lost on Whatif Street; you know the place, it intersects with Could’ve Avenue (some silly souls confuse that one with Should’ve Avenue, which is an entirely different route that pertains only to matters of life-and-death, really) and the weather there is spotty: Hell, along one solitary block you can walk through patches of blinding sunlight followed by drowsy rain followed by sheets of ice so thick that you are in danger of being frozen if you don’t move quick enough.

The brain and heart are a funny combination, and I mean that in all senses of the word: There is funny-ha-ha and funny-weird and funny-ouch and funny-itchy. I can think of that time when I was in third grade and did The Really Embarrassing Thing and I get all fidgety, fiddling with the tip of my right ear absent-mindedly, flushing red, stammering to change the subject even though it’s just me and my thoughts here. I can physically revisit the knee-buckling lust of that magical connective moment with Him (oh yes, with a capital H and that’s not to be questioned), my breasts full and weighted, every last particle of me electrified, even the hair on my head singing to beat the angels at their most hallelujah-drenched moment. I can pull up great despair and taste the dirt of tortured distress and sadness in my mouth, gritty against the insides of my cheeks and making me want to lie down, never to get back up.

In those instances, the moments where I take a breather from alternately being dragged along behind my life and grabbing hold of it to squeeze, I realize how very much I’ve lived. I do grieve for those moments past, even the horrid ones, because they have been spent and even though I can immerse myself in them –truly feel them– I’ve already done with them what I would.

I worry sometimes that (even for and in spite of all my care) I am too busy looking ahead or too busy burning time by daydreaming about other times future and past that I’m not fully appreciating the here and now, that I’m not rolling it on my tongue and savoring it as best I can. It is, after all, what I will touch back on some day years and years from now, extracting the truths and recollective emotions from the experience.

::: :: ::: :: :::

I am in motion I am blue / love is an ocean I’m anchored in you / but I am a dreamer / so you sent me away / sometimes we dreamers / just get in the way / but I’ve always known / since I was a child / that the road is my home / and my spirit is wild / and I have my memories / and I’ve got lots of time / and I’m stoned in san francisco / with you on my mind / I am in motion I am blue / love is an ocean / I’m anchored in you, love is an ocean

// Shawn Mullins, ‘Anchored In You’

11 worked it out »

  1. Gary 10.23.2003

    Jett, almost all of our so called reality is just illusion. The future is all hope and/or fear and isn’t real yet. All the past is joy and/or regret and is no longer real in that we frame those memories the way we choose. The only part of our lives that is real is right now and it was illusion a moment ago when it was still the future and it is now our memory…just that soon. That is why you wisely avoid too much looking ahead or behind…its all illusion anyway. To live real you must live in the NOW!

  2. Lili 10.23.2003

    Now that was beautiful….

  3. Sgt. Mac 10.23.2003

    Huh? Can I have some of the stuff your smokin? This is so deep, I need to grab my boots….Ohhhhh, too late…..Splat!

  4. John 10.23.2003

    I think daydreaming is one of the greater gifts we have and it should be engaged in frequently if not to keep the fire of imagination burning, to kindle the hope that things done today could pan out tomorrow. Certainly, enjoy the company you keep and avoid drift during conversation, but I fill the ‘idle’ hours with its visions always.


    Your existential excursion into temporal-based concern contains some confusion towards human concentration. To live in the eternal now is the goal of many a guru and LSD user. It is a state of consciousness and not a lifestyle. No one really lives in the now. We experience a kind of continuous aggregate of stimulus processing in which our focus floats. Plans are followed according to goals, which are constantly being changed and run against emotional and psychical needs. The future and past may not have material basis, but they have very real and inescapable bearing in the present. The present focus is guided by both. Daydreaming and memories are where we go to find the solutions and solace of today.

  5. John 10.23.2003

    Oops! That’s “emotional and physical needs”

  6. sean 10.23.2003

    I like the theory that all that was, all that is and all that ever will be exists at once and our consciousness is just moving through in a linear way…most of the time. By “most of the time” I mean there are strange phenomenon, experienced through chance or psychadelic enhancement, that could be the result of momentarily unsticking from this straightforward course.

    The non-linearity of time is already proven and perhaps it’s only a matter of time before we learn to exploit that further than sending a particle of light back into the past. In the meantime I would give anything for a device that would let us externalize and access our memories as if our brains were so much TiVo.

  7. red clay 10.23.2003

    “the past isn’t dead, it isn’t even past.”

  8. Sgt. Mac 10.23.2003

    WANTED! Metaphysical Translator!

    Must be able to see through the blue haze of the past, the glazed view of the future and the smoke filled room of the present.

    Must have aged assistant, Crystal Ball, and Transporter to the Future.

    Your vertical oneness with the universe only metophorically enhances the binary capabilites of the distant world.

  9. Jett 10.23.2003

    I have an aged assistant.

    Don’t know if he’s oak-aged or beechwood-aged.

    I’d ask him, but he’s too drunk to cipher right now.

  10. Sgt. Mac 10.24.2003

    Ascending from the dark recesses of my oak aged barrel, I leave my past behind. Rising through hop induced bubbles, I swirl around trying to escape my present alcholic state and rise to the top.

    The sweet scent of fermented beer fills my nostirls as I break the surface and peer over the edge, looking towards the future.

    But alas, the future is obscured by the bitter barrel juice that drips into view.

    Ahhh…Back, Back to the dark past of my barrel, safe from the present and the future.

    Next Day….

    A Pint of bitter ale, induces me to rise up once more and confront the future, but mine eyes are bloodshot…

    How, I love that barrel….

  11. Dean 10.27.2003

    Damn I LOVE when you get on a roll….


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