A episode of character development but little plot in Morning Stream

  • Jan. 11, 2021, 8:51 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

Day 49.
When I’m out driving through the countryside, over the rolling hills and roads that run straight as far as the eye can see into the distant horizon, and on both sides of the road, I see old homes set far back from the road, with a line of trees along the driveway and maybe around the house too, or along the front, blocking it from the road, trees planted generations ago, and in the driveway is a pickup truck and a camping trailer, and maybe an ATV of some fashion, and in the springtime there may be a couple of large dogs out front, and you can see the laundry on the line, and there could be a pile of wood needing to be split and stacked up along the side of the barn or shed or maybe evidence of some other work needed to be done, I always think to myself, “Why do you need the camper trailer? Why do you need to ‘get away from it all? Out here you are already away from it all.”

When I’m at home, up in my office and I see an orchard of bad apples, a schoolhouse of broken dolls, a supermarket of rotten produce and dented cans, the labels torn off, the floor unswept, lights flickering, a tired old dog on an old blanket with new fleas, a playlist of screeches and scratches, rumbles and long farts comprised mostly of stale ideas, an episode of long, run-on sentences with ideas piled up like an Indian bus crash, north of Mumbai, a used car lot of late model lemons, a bark too hard to chew, Fucko the clown making videos of clowns in combat gear taking selfies, storming the Bastille, looking for Satan, but finding normalcy, pomp and casual violence, I always think to myself, “I don’t really give a shit about you and your life, your political beliefs, fashion choices and you in kind do not have the right not to be offended.”


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