Business as usual 

It is hard to write when from anywhere when that somewhere is the keycard-only-acceess-private-university-library. It’s not a good place to sit down and cry. It’s a spot to plot, points while you munch on a little bi-rite salad bowl. 

Anyway, here I am. In the place I have longed to be. It is always something special and terrifying to reach REACH that spot you’ve long been plot-ting on. To be confronted with that success and the unending fight that lies ahead of it. There is no rest, there is no waiting, there is only mud and muck and upheaval and shame and guilt and insecurity and failure and there is only learning or there is death. So, while I sit here and scrape, with a university key card of my own, every single last lentil from my salad bowl, I can’t help but feel the weight of it. To be behind locked doors is a simple thing. It is that: I can be in here because: I have paid the sum costs. I have paid, by any means necessary to BE behind these locked doors.

An annoying kind of city kind of ache, totebag on your shoulder. It is not: not checking my bank account because I don’t have anything to worry about, it is: knowing nothing is there (for me to check). It is forgetting to eat, day after day. Is it forgetting, is it ignoring, is it refusing to tap that card one more time, at the Whole Foods self checkout (kiosk)? It is those familiar blisters. It is picking off skin again in large dry chunks. It is undone nails, it is a hat, it is a sweatshirt and I am trying to forgive and forget. I love San Francisco. 

It is not easy. Business as usual. It is not easy. I’ll say it again: it is fighting, through-the, mud. Looking at your hands at the end of the day and they’re: you’ve got all this dirt caked on them. It follows you like a stench: this idea of position (position in existence) of where you’re at in life, if there is anywhere to be at all (really in a pure sense) anywhere to be at all. To be, that: thing. Being. Being and becoming. There is only becoming I don’t think there ever is any being. There is nothing stagnant. There is nothing un-moving. There is nothing stopping. There is no stillness. There are always ripples in the water. There are always these sounds humming. You want to stop there and sit in all that for a second? I don’t think so. Buy you gotta, that’s the thing. You gotta keep on going no stopping just running and then: then you gotta stay real still. You gotta move only your eyes, if that. Actually, better yet, keep em closed. Yeah and sit still in all that. All that movement around you? Don’t think about it. The sounds the people the Things To Do. You gotta ignore all that. That’s all. You just gotta do both those things at once. 

You have to be able to listen to a conversation, speak and understand. 

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