cult classic

they are singing in unison

faculty and staff squeezed into ill fitting polyblend dresses
eyes scanning the crowd for dissension
praise for peace
mouthing words like incantations
watch
on the clock

parents cranking their heads to witness the spectacle
of hundreds of students singing
craning to record the miracle on smartphones
just beside themselves
at this display of dedication
this display of faith
so civilized
this is the hope and the proof and the miracle!
their babies might remain naive forever!

"and i'll abandon happily the earth/ surrender all i am in this rebirth/ you lead the way and i will follow"

listen.
if these happy chanters actually mean what they are singing,
we are one poison koolaid pitcher away from a mass suicide
another exodus
a cult classic

amazing what we'll do for a little sense of approval.
amazing what we'll believe for a sense of purpose.

there was a time when i thought of religious martyrdom as a high privilege. swear to god, i was ENVIOUS of all the real and imaginary saints who marched their way to glorious suicide
in the name of the father
who let them die.
the unknown god who nodded in all-powerful approval
when they refused to utter words that might save their life
when they trumped reason with indoctrinated subservience.
when they were scanning that crowd for approval so intently that they stopped listening to the words they were singing.
praise for peace and pretty school pictures.

let us discuss the value of life and tell me when it is and is not permissible to walk into death willingly.

happens

also, i happen to be very happy
which happens to be an excellent distraction.

feelings

a few very short thoughts:

strange that we usually do not have a problem teaching novels that portray rape, but if consensual sex is depicted, the novels are more likely to be contested by parents.

redid the place. basically felt like moving in to the same address. i feel like i have a home for the first time in a few years.

regarding the evolutionary function of feelings: feelings distract us from the sheer banality of existence. were we to look existence in the face consistently for any given amount of time and realize what a wretched and utterly pointless mess it is, we would probably all off ourselves. a small terror to really consider the fact that all the things that we think are so special or unique to us are just cookie cutter, text book medleys of psychosis and traits that have been and will be repeated... all going through the same damn phases... having the same revelations... making the same mistakes... all predictably... predetermined by no one, but set on a course still. fatal.

humans are silly creatures who only continue to exist because we are distracted from suicide by emotions.

how does that make you feel?

up close

we are all so gross
up close
isolate those little places
the ashy dead foot skin
cellulite visible right through the pants
those ear hairs just reaching out to be noticed
pores collecting grease
acne scars
pale, unhealthy gums
rogue eyebrows
blotchy skin so irritated it looks angry
strange folds and
double chins
and veins running blue like high traffic highways
isolate those feet after a good run and they might belong to anyone-
a middle aged overweight man, say.

but we look so nice from far away.

fit

pants are like so many things.
they fit so well for awhile
then they lose their shape. worn out.
need washing again
like so many things.

asking

awkward in the asking.
i don't, always,
and this is why.

it is not separate for me. things are not separate for me.
everything is everything
nothing effects everything just like an actual something
because it's like little unseen webs or threads or a pebble dropped across the water
oh i feel it
oh it is felt

splashing around looking for a source and the whole body gets worked up again

still on top
little legs treading under water
effort required to stay where you are
calm on top
still

isn't it grand?

'tis

we

what does it mean to only gulp air in little moments
for weeks?
what does it mean to remain submerged?

I couldn't stop saying we. I could not stop saying we.

shouted like neon
worn like a seat belt.
snug and bound at once.

we
sometimes I know what that means.