Unplugged

There are times and places where the much heralded approach of “with the eyes of a child” are not just inappropriate but downright infuriating. I have quite by accident found myself feeling as one unplugged from the matrix. There are many things which carry weight in society and lean heavily on peoples minds and schedules. These things diffuse one’s attention, their attentiveness, the force of their being. What those things are will vary widely with the individual, and yet the effect is the same. Some people (even those who have great promise) are simply, dreadfully, painfully, depressingly, and irretrievably dull.
More than once lately have I thought I might be making a friend, before sadly discovering that the individual in question was no individual at all, but a plugged-in, switched-off, force-fed, zombie of 21st century economics. They are as a battery feeding man hours and earned income thoughtlessly into the giant fictional world made sense of for them and presented to them by corporate retail strategy. Now, this is not to allege any conspiracy, but I find it difficult to believe that no one who is writing big business mission statements (or designing and strategizing the irreplaceable bastion of american freedom of choice that is the shopping mall) understands that this model is not one based in humanity. Rather by designing every moment of interaction (in shops and to an ever greater degree, outside them) for building brands and customer loyalty and identification, I think that these people are simply doing their jobs to deliver better outcomes for investors. But for now this pursuit is hostile to the well being of many.

This is not a problem which will self-quarantine, instead this persistent pavlovian training will become virally more ubiquitous and the opportunity cost for humanity will begin to mount. Many potentially important, prolific, inspiring thinkers could be redirected into waiting for instruction, supply, and permission from on high to do, to think, to believe, and eventually to feel.

Unplug.

Come On; another poem in progress

Come and touch me warming in the dark.Touch me listen to the rain,
touch me summer nights turning spring mornings.
Pour me in a glass, I’ll tickle your tongue and burn in your throat
Before plucking a heart string and sitting, pit of your stomach.

Come on, this is what life feels like.
Tin roof or tent fly give me you and a front lawn made from sand
You slip through my fingers but I feel you burned into my arms,
An ear on my chest, you listened to my heart
I guess you didn’t hear it because it was so busy skipping beats
Now I run and I listen to the rain,
Today my cardiovascular health is remarkable,
Just in case your ear meets my chest I will be sure this time,
Come on, that’s a standing invitation.
Because this is what lives feel like.
I want you to define me,
I will whisk you away, somewhere neither of us has ever been,
and let’s discover what life is like,
Just come on,
touch me leap of faith,
touch me lilac scent,
touch me listen to the rain,

And I can hear your arm laid cross my waist in the rain that’s falling past my window…

Waking Up

There are moments when one starts to see the world with the eyes he always knew he had. An awakening begins for learning has occurred through the newly dedicated eyes of a child. Impulses are stronger, and you can take their suggestions, follow your will and discover its destination. There is suddenly no reason or even excuse to remain sedentary, to remain static, to remain a person of the world that is given to you. The necessity of building the world as you see it becomes known and life will improve by getting much harder.
Any moment is a journey of self discovery. This is the space I have been living in after a very good acting class this week. The great challenge of touching my impulsive, emotional, center has set off a great will to express. Unfortunately and much to my stifled excitement I must continue to live in society and among those who know me in a manner divorced from these things. it has not been easy to walk this week among the Starbucks drinking, mall-shopping masses, peering down from the elevated, air conditioned, over sized, SUV driver seats, unthinking of the un-humanity of their “experiences.” It is not easy to be human when you are so dominantly Person. And today I stand between these states, aware that I am in fact more human than person, and yet unwilling to write off the world of domesticated personhood. Can these ever be reconciled?