Thursday, August 30, 2012

today does not belong to me

I have a tidal-wave of words that are stuck in my brain and tingling in my hand. I cannot write them fast enough. Thoughts about religion and people and moving and staying and leaving and arriving and being and disappearing and politics and right and wrong and left and right and write has been last on that list.

So what does one do when they are tongue-tied twisted? Well, we use the words of another. Or at least I do, this could be a cop out, call me a liar, call me a fake, but if it is with pure intent (see article below) what can go wrong, right?

I am feeling a little bit selfish. Before blogging was cool, this man had a blog. He inspired me to start my own blog (not this one) And as much as he inspired me, I am afraid he will inspire you too, and can two people have the same inspiration. Well, of course they can. But it's human emotion to think you lay claim to something, like taking over native land, or claiming this blog is 'mine' because it was written by a friend of mine's far distant cousin. I have never met this mysterious hIrSch and probably never will.

So here I am, sharing with you my personal writing inspiration, but the action is not pure of heart, it makes me feel better to do something hard, even if I don't want to. Can hIrSch relate?

friday, april 11th 2008

and it's not only the chain because there was a cup too and here's the story of the cup and i was drinking tea with these very kind men and they were all smoking and i was coughing and they had so many questions (and me with no answers) but the bulwark of the language barrier allowed none of them to be asked and that's how it goes and so i just sat there sipping the tea and then this man gets up and he goes into a nearby shop and comes out with the saddest insulated red mug you could ever imagine and he walks right up to me and gives it to me and i have no use for it and don't want it at all because it's just another thing and i hate all these things because life becomes full of things.
we just constantly go out and buy things and the only things i ever want to buy are items of food because this is the only thing i need because with duct tape and some needle and thread you can repair any thing you already have so you don't need more of them and so i just don't like things and curse each and every thing i have and have recently really begun contemplating just getting rid of all these disgusting things i have and just leaving it all behind and going and feeling that freedom of disengagement from things but i don't yet have the nerve so he comes right up to me with that red cup and hands it to me and as i just explained i don't want it and initially i try to kindly refuse it but then i realize, and i say to myself, hirsch, it's not about whether you (i.e. i) want or need this cup it's about the fact that this man wants to give it to you, it's something he wants to do and so just take the thing because by doing so you will make him happy and that is what it's all about.

so i took the cup and lashed it down with a bungee and he was so pleased and that man and that cup taught me something and i cycled off - but the story of the cup continues - because i cycled off and the fact that i didn't need or want this cup had not changed and a couple of clicks down the road i saw this sad little school boy standing on the side of the road perhaps waiting for a bus or perhaps meditating and i pulled over and kicked my kickstand and unlashed the cup being careful with the bungee because a man in norway told me more people go blind from getting whap-bap-schlapped in the eye with the end of a bungee than for any other reason and i walked up to that little boy hoping he was just waiting on a bus and not meditating because if he were meditating he might have been on the brink of samadhi and were i to interrupt that there would be no forgiveness for me (which there might not be any forgiveness for me anyway) and i held out that cup and as soon as i did and he realized what was happening and he saw how shiny and how round and how red that cup was and how that that cup was no longer mine but was now his well that sad little boy was happy and he smiled and he looked around a bit nervously (i, for some reason, make people nervous which is another (of many) contributing factor of my need to be alone) and i smiled and for some reason sort of bowed (because i think he had reached the level of samadhi) 

then i cycled away and then, post facto of course, i realized what i had done was "bad" or at least misrepresented because that kid doesn't fully understand (as you do) the source of that cup, he doesn't understand that i did not give him that cup out of the goodness of my heart but out of my non-need for it and how really i was doing myself a favor rather than doing one for him and so i began to feel awful about the cup because even though it made a sad boy happy the source of that happiness was not purely driven.

(all photos were STOLEN from hIrSch's blog) 
thoughts to think about, 
rach (and hIrSch)

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