Reappropriation and the Public Response

A week ago, I was sitting outside the coffee shop, doing nothing much but perhaps smoking and reading a book. Out of nowhere, death approached me and told me he was dying. Seeing that I had nothing immediately important planned, I invited him to a drink and conversation. A drink and conversation…what harm could that do?

He told me that his soul was being eaten away, day by day, there was less and less of it. He told me he needed a break – just a way to get by. At first, I thought he might have been lying to me – that he was a con artist of sorts – but then, I offered him a cigarette and he declined. He was being legitimately honest then about dying and all. I re-extended my invitation to a drink and conversation. A drink and conversation…what harm could that do?

What happened next took me completely by surprise. Apparently, death and dying has very little priority in an “affluent” world. I always thought that the selfish nature of the well-off was just a popular myth that the “socially-conscious” devised in order to set themselves apart from the masses. I was wrong – it’s not a myth. In this fucked up world, it’s a crime to want to “just get by”. People become animals and the public sphere becomes a place of exclusion. To be absolutely honest – I’m not sure I want to be part of this “public sphere”. A drink and conversation…that can be very harmful to those who don’t have to worry about survival.

I don’t expect you to agree – after all, you probably have no idea what the fuck I'm on about. Welcome to the biggest piece of bullshit I have ever encountered in my life.

The Limehouse

I have problems. You have problems. Hell – aren’t we lucky that we can afford them? How much did you pay for your problems? A meal out? An education? At the very least, somewhere to live?

It’s a lottery system. We were among the lucky ones who, for some unknown reason, “won”. Forget the myth – it’s not about personal choices. Who would choose that? No matter how you look at it, it just doesn’t make sense. No, it’s about self preservation; every man for himself. It’s about people who are people who feed off people but aren’t people. That’s the only way I can make any sense of it. I can’t see any other way to explain it.

So tell me about your problems. Can’t get someone to build a wall of glass? Can’t go to the show? Did someone lie to you? At least you aren’t familiar with the side of the street. But do you realize that? No. Who’s going to build your wall of glass? Look at you – but I bet you still want it done for a lot less. You still cuss on the phone at the twenty percent.

No joke – life is wasted on people like us.

And what was it? Two dollars? Two, fucking, dollars. And I expected to feel good about that? I expected to feel like a saint? What the hell kind of an obnoxious asshole am I? Shit, I disgust myself. The real irony is that I would give a hundred million dollars if I could feel that again. The real irony is that, I expected to save someone’s life…but they saved mine instead. Wow…this must be the new cocaine. A cocaine that won’t kill you.

And until now, I never really noticed it. Can people really live off spare change? No, it’s not about personal choices…it’s about the choices of other people. Take the bus, do your laundry, buy a magazine even…but no spare change? That’s right – no spare change.

Yes, like I said…how obnoxious can you be? Even the air is too common for you. You have to go out of your way, have to spend money, to make sure that the air you’re breathing is…“better” than what other people are breathing. Seriously now, money on air but no spare change? No joke. At the same time, there are people who are dying just to breathe.

And you know what’s the really disgusting part of it? The fact that we don’t even notice.

Commodities, commodities…more commodities than we can ever ever use up.

Complain that you never win anything on the slot machines. Las Vegas, Macau. Don’t you realize that you already lucked out on the one thing that really matters?

Thank You Retrospection

We all have problems don’t we? We all feel the sting of life and we all want to believe that we are special in that respect. We are all egoists, each believing that we are feeling the worst brunt of life. Wake up, smell the coffee, drink something bad for your head. It’s time to realize, you are not.

And so what? Tell me your story, tell me you’re dying, tell me what you believe to be the genuine truth. I believe you, I really do. But the world around me doesn’t. The world around me wants to throw you out. The world around me wants to charge you for the air you’re breathing. Good morning, get the fuck out of here. Here it is. Why don’t you do it? Where did you go? Probably ran away. Probably didn’t exist in the first place. Just my imagination. Running away with me.

Time alone is time alone, whether it’s 25 minutes or a whole month. So here’s to time alone. No wait, I take it all back…here’s to that man who was dying on the streets. Here’s to what possibly could have been a lie but might not have been.

Central Park, Bastille, old hotel. Whatever, whatever. What it all boils down to is nothing much. Keep your head down – all things must pass, so this must too. But you are blinded by rainbows. The Brightness scares you and you can no longer cope with the outside world. The self and life have separated long ago. Try to reconcile the two but you will find it an impossible task. Please get away before it’s too late. Before it all consumes you in a flame of white smoke. There, die a little. Live a little. Feel a little.

Chemicals boy. Come over come over.

Positively 4th Street

So, perhaps he was lying; perhaps none of it was true.

Let’s say he wasn’t dying. Smokes.
Let’s say he didn’t really need that money. It probably wouldn’t be put to good use.
Let’s say he didn’t really need a drink. Let’s say he wasn’t at all grateful.
Let’s say that wasn’t his story. That wasn’t even his name.

Even with all that, what’s it to you? What does it cost you?
2 minutes of your time? 3 cubic feet of your space?

Probably not even.

Very strange.

Dead of Night

You are.

You are a drop it. You are a custom. You are a reciprocating problem. You are an it’s ok. You are a you should go in. You are just as much as last week. You are a jacket. You are a wink. You are a how do you react. You are overall. You are a it went out. You are a that’s not what I meant. You are through the window. You are a static state. You are quite a few. You are pretense. You are signals. You are no confidence. You are 30 days. You are next time. You are one dollar. You are you’ll get rained on. You are a go wherever. You are a pretend you didn’t notice. You are no progress. You are not tomorrow. You are Sunday bloody Sunday. You are nervous.