Taking in more and shutting out less. That was the mandate for Blue. Because trouble soon arrived wherever Blue had carved out a modest little bit of space to occupy, it had become rare to be a ‘body at rest,’ and some standby onlookers were secretly realizing they were starting to feel that way themselves…robbed of rest. Alas, to lean inward led to unaired grievances ungainly of aspect and to lean out meant you were at risk of a physical accident or ritualistic social humiliation. The mandate is to take in more information so that morbid interiority won’t swallow you whole. Can’t hurt to keep your hands fairly busy at various tasks. Drink of the Pool of Memory and not that of Forgetfulness. Blue would rather identify with rather than put an identity to. Identification is an activity of the generous imagination. Did you know that birds are up there in the trees and on the eavestroughs and fence posts mercilessly heckling all of life?
If your criticism of Blue begins with the words who the hell in their right mind?…you can go ahead and stop yourself right there. What kind of right mind do we think we’re talking about anyway? Excuse my mind, please, something isn’t right with it. I think I can see what the problem is here. These are the plain results of standardized testing. The mind is its own topography and also a circuit board. You try not to spill anything caustic on the console. That is the first rule. You also need to understand that on a daily basis any individual mind releases at least twice as much methane gas as a full-sized adult cow. Whenever there is a situation in which two tough guys in similar suits who look like they could sort of be related come in and start roughing up some cowering underworld geek…Blue always thinks of Kafka. Forever the blushing bride if you slide a little something extra on the side. A short poem about the hulking machines that clean the city streets in the early hours. These are the hours when Blue is most active at the typewriter, practically chain-smoking Camels. Do not be despondent if you wear the green Nehru jacket of the urban vagabond. Writhe not in anguish and abandon ye who are in no immediate peril. Death arrives at the loping pace of an overextended plague doctor robbed of rest. In the hustle and bustle of the stimulated mind, caffeinated for good measure, binary logic is reduced to dancing atoms in freefall. Excited and mobbed, Blue will canalize the district as a virtuality. The mind, having arrived on time, locks down its load and has itself a gander. The collectivized mind is the citizenry of this outpost and the individual mind an intercept. Blue walks the unknown streets of some new city until they are known.
Stopping at the Starbucks drive-thru for breakfast because running a little late for work, a person waiting in their automobile to retrieve that breakfast might begin to feel outright hounded by the clock. There is nothing quite so chilling to Blue as the barking of attack dogs. The web of communications must be a net that catches us, Blue presumes, because in some obliterated urban jungle with no electricity or running water…very few could be expected to find their footing. The rat is the patron saint of infrastructure, chewing its way through. Ask not for whom the cat lady tolls, the cat lady tolls for thee. People meet and fall in love like two shopping carts colliding. If the lovers have chemistry, they’ll know it first. As though it were all a board game in Isaac Newton’s Imaginarium. Blue wants the full spectrum of colours from the squatting position and all the birds chortling their commentary. It would be obscene to block off day from night and sleep in cycles.
Do we even actually know exactly what it is we have gotten ourselves into? There are no smooth contours to attract the attention of our touch. The prismatic mindscape runs the gamut of colours. When we lean into the horizon with our base suspicions…can we expect any result except one even worse than we’d originally expected? To properly ponder and sit a smidgeon longer. For Blue, danger is what you get when you provoke the tempest. On earth everything is at sea, so the speak, and that’s where the trouble lurks. Those who rush about with too much insistency shall be carried off by strong winds. Poseidon. Blue is aware of the difficulties the situation continues to face, behind enemy lines with a bad map. Why do espresso and cigarettes—both stimulants—steady the nerves taken in moderation? It’s one of life’s mysteries. Robotic chatter fills the air. The hollow where you’ve stored your most cherished memories is the first one they ransack. Trilingual girl ups the ante. Blue is not likely to sit up all night with you so that you can get caught up, however many languages you may fluently speak. The only real adventures are misadventure. You cannot keep pacing the chiaroscuro-lit docks your whole life. The only mercy the divinity ever handed us was but a few feet of slack. Blue is the blue of horseshoes or cracked safes…nothing need be added to self-modifying nature.
At the bottom of a mineshaft in the far north lies an emerald heart. There won’t be any chance left us to plead our cases once the vines start creeping in. Compensatory sense activities waylay our fears and citizens are encouraged to overcompensate. Confucius believed that we should hold loyalty to the world, principles, and others above all other considerations in terms of the consideration of an ethics. Everything would seem to hinge on Blue getting to the point. Who doesn’t find themselves feeling the effects of zero gravity now and then? Don’t you know that critters produce litters? When you find yourself on the offence…try to buy yourself some room to maneuver.
An altercation between two actual people is always a sloppy, embarrassing mess. Did we ever know what precisely to do with our physical selves? What did we ever do to be forced to coincide with ourselves? Once upon a time, there was an empty courtyard at night. Blue likes it when it gets a little colder because there are no more flies to get in. A cigarette and a mug of black tea…now we can begin. What Blue is trying to bring across is that we can be stronger together as opposed to separate. It’s like that whole Pool of Memory and Pool of Forgetfulness routine. You commit to a choice as to which thing you are going to drink out of…in that moment. Do we have to throw down? Does it have to go down? This would appear to be a good moment to shut up and slow down.
A short poem about the sound of an audience emptying the auditorium at the close of a performance…



No comments:
Post a Comment