this is like phone terrorism 101. its bad and it is unpoliced except at a personal level boundary. my boundary was set to prefall postfab berlin wall... unfortunately my override measures are set for flex and when deemed curious enough to need a closer dance. in this particular terrorist cell attack via my cell, well, i was either still absorbing the shock to my audio (and picked up accidentally) or i was curious or i wanted to dance. translation: i picked up a call i should not have and would not have picked up if i was in post nine eleven USA alert mode. but i was not. i was in relax and catch the sun at a better angle if you need something to occupy yourself with, mode. which was not even a mode at all, more like a sleep or hibernation cycle.
guess we all have these elapsed seconds of electrified air when true choices are made. True because there is no time for an intellectual way out. You respond on instinct or intuition. when you are in sleep mode, you respond with a yawn or just not very well at all, if well is measured by impact. respond in a way that provokes someone to fire you or chastise you, not that you deserve it. clearly it suggests something akin to smoking too much weed in the pre-legalization years in America.
Anyway, the consequences of poorly calibrated real-time-pressure-choice cylinders are many. Including the disturbance of my core sleep cycle in the sedated hour past midnight when atoms dont hug so tight, electrons turn positive (and optimistic), and spirits mess with those who do not believe in spirits. Easy to derail anything riding rails in this kind of tension free atmosphere. Well, this young man boldly called at the subzero calls time, and proceeded to try and talk me into meeting him...not at a club in some voted on time in the near future, but rather on this very night. Despite knowing and apologizing for waking me up. Despite hearing the despondency in my voice. He spoke of possibility. Possibility now! was his mantra. Very bold, very ignorant. Unless there was something beyond my awareness? Were we connected on an astral type plane which might make this kind of carrying on okay? Ram Dass was in the building.
It would have to be investigated, but not now. Now was about coming across to the guy that he was insane and i was sane. Well, that was not a perfectly honest statement, seeing as i frequently doubted my own sanity at more reasonable times of day. Well, that it did not matter what anyone was, I was gonna do what i was gonna do and that was hang up imminently and go back to sleep if possible. I would not tolerate his pleading for me to float out into some city street to meet him and possibly strike him dead with my feelings toward him now. Suddenly my choices in real time were on the level. But i was mad as hell. That was something worth remembering.
This disaster of an acquaintance was at levee breaking levels, when suddenly i heard him getting into an argument with someone about a candy bar. I asked him was he listening? What was happening to pull him away from my severe and conscious detachment? He must be fully present with me for a whole detachment to occur, damn it! I lay there by my cat on my bed, listening to him discuss the matter of a candybar, Three Musketeers, a matter prioritized above me and my conscious detachment process. I guessed he was at a gas station, and the vending machine had screwed him. I struck a blow to my pillow. and again. I was not strong enough to make a real impression on either pillow or man. I felt like you feel when you get a call and the caller is a recording who tells you to please hold. I did not fight the feeling. I did what i do when i feel that feeling. I hung up. and dreamed of an albino turtle, if such a thing exists.
No comments:
Post a Comment