Here's the Thing (Or, at Least, One of 'em)

OK, so my last post was maudlin.

Know what Webster has to say about that term? Well, here it is:

"Alteration of Mary Magdalene; from her depiction as a weeping penitent.
Date:
1509
1 : drunk enough to be emotionally silly
2 : weakly and effusively sentimental"



Gads. I didn't even know I meant that. But apparently I did. See, that's one of the things my mind does. It refers to references far tucked into the dictionary -- or into the encyclopedia -- of "Modern Man [sic]." Believe me, when my mind talks to itself, it uses all vocabulary: All tenses; all prepositional phrases; and all potential grammatical potentialities, including the past, past-participle, conditional past-participle, conditional past-past participle, and so on. Indeed, my mind utilizes all the potentialities of the English language (or so it hopes), be it scholastic or vernacular, whenever it thinks.

But it isn't always sure of what it speaks. That's how my mind works. It speaks first, somewhat linguistically, or scholastically, or within the parameters of the vernacular -- and then it goes backwards. It re-traces. It, after having spoken, re-traces its steps. My mind, after having spoken, re-traces its linguistic steps -- to make sure it has meant, or at least meant what it's meant, what it's said.

In this case, as I've already said, my said linguistics said exactly that which I intended them to have already said.

So what have I said? Simply this: Once Upon a Time, when I lived and produced writing whilst living in San Francisco, I had given myself the liberty to speak. I'd granted myself the honor of writing honorably. I'd allowed myself the occasion to be -- totally -- myself.

But since I've come to New York, all I've allowed myself are limitations.

I can't (/don't) write about my life as it actually is. Why? Because, as much as I'd lke to think my currrent cohorts would be able to digest where I've come from and where, as a result, I'm going... I know they can't. They simply can't.

How do I know? I know because, as a result of having spent 7 years in LA before I ventured into New York, I've recognized a rather simple formula: Material acquitisition = lack of Spiritual education. And yes, you Angelinos and New Yorkers can argue: Lack of material acquisitition most often = excessive, or at the very least, imbalanced, Pursuit of spiritual enlightenment.

I made my mark (if even it might be said that I even had) in San Francisco by being utterly blunt, and honest with myself. I haven't found the place in New York to be able to be so. I've come close, and I'm coming closer -- but the idea of being really real with East-Coasters has proven to be a scary concept.

And being really real with West-Coasters has proven to be tedious. Sorry to you all. But ultimately, everybody wants validation of their sensibility, don't they? Well, I'm sorry. I can't validate West Coast sensibility whilst travailing amidst the turmoil of East Coast sensibility in efforts to merely stay alive.

To hear it put like that, one might think nobody wins. But I'm here to tell you all, this is duality we're deling with. This is the physical realm. Comprised through the tension of opposites. An entire realm. The physical realm. Comprised of the tension of opposites.

So deal with it, my friends. Just live with it. Why wouldn't you? Why wouldn't you -- whether you're coming from the perspective of materialism or spiritualism -- eventually get to this point?

I'm there. I'm at that point. I'm at the point where I'm no longer going to value any material advice/perspective any more than I'm going to value any spiritual advice/perspective any more than either perspective/argument applies to my current situation.

Because, in the end, that's exactly what both persepctives are concerned with. My situation. Go figure.



You didn't think you were off the hook in this bi-argumentative, doubly-intended argument, did you?

So that leaves me with two options: Either shut up, or keep trudging along. But trudging along means maintaining integrity in what I'm saying.

I'm on the brink. I'm on the brink of falling forever away from the scene, or of falling into the realm of pissing you off.

History will tell.