I’ve not really written for days. My hands have been moving, but something isn’t in it. My heart is not in it. And now I’m back from West Virginia. I kind of gave that holiday away to the relatives; I’ll claim New Year’s and the weekend as my own. It is good to be out of that state and off an 80 mile an hour highway. Settling in, a few late presents roll in and cheer me up.
Desktop wallpaper, black and white leaves, tree branches, an overlay of scattered icons. A future. This is like running fast into a cave. A time clock is breathing down the back of my neck. Television commercials dart around in my mind. There are obligations to take care of. This is done, blah blah. Check! Read this. Check! And that. Check! Take care of that font problem. Sob.
The customers want more calendars. Scan, place photos, rotate pages, run the 11×17 (Tabloid) paper through the bypass tray. Can you believe the managers don’t even know “Tabloid” is another name for 11×17? I say Tabloid, they ask what the hell I’m talking about. They manage reams and reams of paper, barely knowing what to call it. My mind is busy with plenty of names I could call them, but don’t, can’t, hopefully won’t.
Matthew’s book to me, on James Baldwin’s life – says he lived by the principle of “go for broke,” live life to its fullest. Take risks or settle into hell. Settle for becoming boring. I know some who are extremely boring. I want so much to feel that I am open and ready to throw off ignorance. Come along and teach me! But don’t throw the stale stuff at me. Give me your heart. That’s what I never get about conservatives, they’re coming from a place that’s very hateful a lot of the time. They don’t seem very open at all. They should not be conserving their soulfulness. Its about time you spend it out. But… they want to come off like these together businessmen, talk in formulas. And somehow they will destroy the world by being disorganized. How is that? You can only organize so much.
. . .
Talked a lot, about a lot of things, on the trip back. Mostly C. just listened as I rambled, at times on different ideas rattling around in my head – slavery and freedom, and the past.
Slavery – typically slaves of our governments, typically slaves when ignorant. When you dream at night, you dream of flying sometimes, of being free. Freedom – you want political freedom, personal freedom, financial freedom, but in the end you want freedom from your body; why else would you dream of flying? Be free from sickness once and for all. Identity – as you talk you imagine what they see. You develop a self worth. These notes begin and pause here.