Fly N Buy

How about ecommerce - I use Spotify. Maybe sell something..........how about Seltzer bottles?!

davaidavai

Passed through the birth canal of the human condition last night training back from hamilton heights (north manhattan) to bklyn. First the drunks on the street, a lady scrraming at her man, zombied out brown baggers and corona carriers, the the train, meandering down the car passed some seats with remains of vomit and blood, settling across from a cameo clad psycho with eyes like an abused 5 year old and a body like a 30 year old marine, intesly oggling a blond woman, getting up to pace the length of the car; the more well to do ignoring everything, as if riding above the seething tide on rafts of prosperity and dopamine; a man with a gold sequened jacket in a faux british accent held court to himself for a while on various matters peppering his discourse with snippits of chinese or turkish, and finally, home, following some drunk boys up the steps.

Maybe allowing ones self to apprehend the grotesque is a part of the vital experience. Being present with it. Maybe i bore myself with my own cowardice and my own programming entered in by a society where denial is often a way of life.

Darwinia

Profound

davaidavai

I never really deserved anything, or to look at it another way, the good things that came my way, i crapped on because i could do nothing else. Like an animal designed to screw up its life. Not a particularly harmful animal. Just one bred this way. I think because i never had the charisma of the deserving the damage was limited somewhat. I arrogantly presided over my own failures and squalor, praying for improvements, knowing deep in my heart that i was preferential to no one.

I wonder if i still crap on on my life. Im not a better or worse person. Its an admirable goal for everyone to achieve love and success, but thats a project, a familial project that happens over time, an individual project. I deserve just this half life until i either leave or fail to. The only thing to claim is the twilight, the dust of the fringe, the babble spoken there. Thats my native place where i beat in circles. This is the place ive always felt deserving of, have saught in my deepest heart.

davaidavai

Better not bemoan suffering but to let it come out your pours on nights when no one is around and you return to yourself, the reality of your solitude, your soul, deserving nothing. That is the truth. Start there.

davaidavai

Even if you have nothing, nobody to love, no prospects, no money, sober, you have validity in the face of fortune. Intoxication robs one of reliable narration. Sobriety is clarity in the face of fortune and not the somewhat manic positive thinking it is somtimes framed as - the unreliable narrator with the alterior motive. Nor is it wild endless grieving for what could have been and what really means much much less in the face of inevitable death. The sober person possesses the dust beneath his feet. The drunk cant even claim his own footsteps.

KAD

Indeed!

steve-in-kville

Or raft building kits made from seltzer bottles?