IV

I called on a higher power. Standing helpless in the center of the street. Arms rose towards the heavens.

“Familiar voices with unfamiliar faces.” A plea with little effort. Very little, it seemed, required much effort these days, just the knowledge of what button to press. Everything is color coded, for mindless beings of systematic devolution. Red or green? Red or green!? (3)... (2)...red or gre... (1).

A seemingly intelligent society was taught the answers while ignoring the questions, or the reasons.

“Because I said so... “

But we don't question them. We simply question the means, not to prove arrogant but to suspend ignorance. Yet in order to do so we must first acknowledge our individuality. In a world so generalized, control is maintained through conformity.

More bright headlights. Every time the door opens the eruption inside stumbles into the streets, it’s dark. It is night. Street lamps and the lively neon glow will challenge the morning sun. Passersby, at this time, nearly trip over their own feet alarmed to see me and disputing my presence. I could be a hallucination. But they would have to make sure. Six inches from my face. Breathe smelling of warm whiskey, peanuts and cigarettes. He begins speaking to someone who is not there, pulling them in closer he whispers, nodding towards me. Eyeing me suspiciously and rolling his eyes as his head follows. “you in to some good s**t?" what? I reply. "Some pornography?" he slaps me on the back and stands up yelling, at nobody.
Waking up this morning I had so much to say - I opened my mouth and nothing at all would come - I realized there's a comfort in silence; it’s not that mild insight into quietude that we all seemingly, openly, understand �" No, but rather an inconceivable appreciation to something we'll never verbally illustrate. There is nothing at all I could say that would clarify what I mean; and the only truth I could offer of this is the reality that we'll never cease to try.

There's always something more left to be said, always something appealing about the futility of human nature - when we ourselves are living in constant discharge - in, out and through the pronounceable and the parallel. Two (or more) entirely separate realities, existing concurrently through everyday normality, denied only through ignorance. Void of any oral means of explanation simply because we've adopted a reality with a physical means of understanding - in a universe that is never meant to be understood. Adaptation is a cryptic illusion; to evolve is to adapt to devolve is to submit. And we have submitted to a linear means of living. To break this archetype we must accept our ignorance and only then will we be free, unaffected, and immune -to develop. And our society, like any other, is only broken once it is named.
I felt a drop of rain, then turned around opened the door and headed back into the house. I found her waiting on the couch; she was holding back a smile. Neither of us said anything. I sat next to her and took her hand. “It was the best of times…”