I've returned now to the Bay Area. On my desk, an empty coffee cup, a dozen red roses, and a view: sutro heights, a church, a water tower.
I was talking to a friend of mine about the differences between LA and SF. LA is known to be focused so much on image, looks, but because people know that they look for something deeper. They actively pursue "deep" thoughts, activities that feed their soul. In SF, everyone assumes they have that depth and don't need to cultivate it.
I was thinking about this and consumer culture. Consumerism teaches you to find fulfillment in buying something. That having this or that, you will be happy, satisfied. This isn't only applied to actual goods like cars, houses, etc. It's also applied to emotions, dream lives, what the world wants you to want. (Do you actually want it?) It's desirable to have a marriage, undesirable to have a divorce. Etc. apply your train of thought here.
Over the weekend, as I floated in the waters, it occurred to me that the phrase "I think, therefore I am" is completely damaging. This world, this life, your life, is not about thinking. The journey is the destination. Feeling your way through, not logicizing. If you knew where you would go, would you take the first step? What if you knew of all the "bad" things you would do. Would you take the first step? Would you stay at the starting line?
"...walk on part in the war, for a lead roll in a cage..."
I read a story once about a future world, where people lived in little boxes and were jacked into a dream world. (I just realized that this sounds very matrix-like.) And the "conflict" in the story is that this man wants to visit his mother, but finds out there is no infrastructure for him to physically visit her. That he can visit her through his dream box, but that there isn't even a door from his box to the outside world.
The fog is rolling in and sutro heights is hidden. There goes the water tower. Rising mobilicious chords. The church is a backdrop of white. I see a row of triangular topped boxes disappearing in the mist. Are you in one of those boxes? Wouldn't you rather get out?
Goodbye water tower.
Red roses against fog.
Wet blood on concrete.
Two black figures skirt up into the sky.
Church shrouded in fog.
It's a time to disappear.