To start off on a topic that I did not wish to cover this post might not be meant to be, considering I typed it on Microsoft Vista and tried to cut and paste it onto this format and it disappeared. And it might have been the most brilliant piece of writing thought of and conveyed to an audience in about the last 3 seconds.
I haven't posted in a while and that's OK. It is shame though. I often wake up on the Long Island Railroad, jarred awake by the shaking of the cab, making me wonder if this box of metal, plastic, and rubber could jump off the tracks plunging us into certain death. I've come to realize and analyze that at this moment I put all of my anxieties and fears into that waking nightmare.
As life rushes by I contemplate all the usual philosophical questions that have been thought countless times over by countless people. I do believe in the collective unconscious and I believe that I don't contemplate certain issues because those issues have already been resolved by the collective. If your following my train of thought, thank you, and no pun intended.
I think of how I spend 5 hours a day, 25 hours a week, 100 hours a month, and 1000 hours a year riding public transportation. That's roughly 24 full days a year being shaken, not stirred by a metal box, my ass molding into pleather seats. Alot of contemplation, book reading, and sleeping. Observing the human condition. I wonder what it would be like to spend the next 20 years commuting; that would be about a full year and a quarter of my life spent on public transportation. I hope there is no transportation in the after life, or that they invent a transporter machine soon(my small ode to Star Trek). I guess its better than spending time in other even less glorious situations.
Rewind to my subway ride. As I enter the less superior utilitarian iron box I slump into a hard plastic seat, exhausted from having seventh graders pull off my finger nails one by one all day. I slather the anti-bacterial liquid onto my hands and pretend that it is a shield from the diseases of the world. I whip out my book and begin to read. My brain tired my concentration wanes and I seek the solace of observation.
I peek up just above the rim of the book to see who my fellow travelers are. Everyone from young to old, coal black to stare into the sun white, faces as scared as the moon, and as smooth as the porcelain under your feet are on display. Not many are smiling, most caught in their own membrane contemplating different or similar subjects, no one knows or do we?
We spend most of our thinking time trying to figure out how we are different or special or unique, but in the grand scheme of things I think that we are all very similar, our misery, joy, sex, fight, flaws..........The only thing that separates us from the other inhabitants of this tiny planet is our ability to reason, and even that if flawed on a daily, or momentary basis. Our ability to choose right from wrong, depending on what acts and words fit into each category.
This life is a constant struggle, but most of us want to see it to its end, and rightfully so, the good times are definitely worth it; we just all wish that there were more to breath in.
Its time for bed; see you all in the collective, and this time, try to bring an original thought, I'm getting a little bored.