welcome

After a very, very good conversation with an old and true friend. Over the telephone. Now some cold cider. And it's dark.

I have three bottles of beer. There are many thoughts.

Thick soled boots on my feet; this feels pretty sturdy and good.

I remember when this friend and I would drive down to a bookstore up there in Fargo and read poetry books, especially by that guy we called a stoned farmer. Or something like that. Ah, those were nights. Even at the time they felt...formative? That's not the word I'm looking for. That reminds me of 'these aren't the droids you're looking for.' Meaningful. That's the word, I think. Simpler than I was thinking. Just meaningful. Of meaning. Of portent.

There are times when I want to drink wine from either a metal cup or a clay jug while crouching on the balls of my feet in a damp cave. Jen often feels the same way. And bread and olive oil. and Bread and Wine is a book.

“Freedom is not something you get as a present,” said Pietro. “You can live in a dictatorship and be free – on one condition: that you fight the dictatorship."

And I wonder how I spend my days....isn't that a strange word to use--'spend'? Like life is a savings account or allowance your suburban parents give to you on Fridays if you do your measly chores. 'Well, if I clean the toilet today, I can spend some of my life on Saturday,' said Chip.

If that's not it, then perhaps life is a paycheck that your boss stamps with a shitty signature every two weeks.

I suppose in capitalism everything comes down to buy and sell, huh? How will I spend my days, then? Maybe I should steal them. Yeah, I think that's it, isn't it? I'll steal my fucking days. I'll steal my days and head for the border. Every border, I guess.

Pietro said that you can live in the most democratic country on earth and not be free. Shevek knows that you can live even in a world predicated on anarchism and not be free, if you give up or forget your critical eye, your challenge to the 'way things are', your revolutionary mindset.

'I gotta fight, okay? I got problems; I gotta fight.' That's Rocky Balboa. Yo.

And now I am still drinking of these three bottles of beer. And maybe you are still reading these sentences. What then, what next? How will you spend your life, your days? Wow, that's a bit too much like an after-school-special or something. Remember that weird tiger thing that introduced that shit? Television. Now, there's a currency that is much spent.

Hmmm. Well, I don't know. Tell them that on your way out, okay? And if you're thirsty, drink.