I’m pretty happy with the mailbox I finished. Its base is 100x more permanent than a fir post – it is a Mercedes crankshaft in concrete. An American tradition – the creative mailbox. People will see this.
*living the dream* we like to say.
People will see what I write. Several years ago, after finishing a bike tour in my home state, Vermont, I found myself writing things, one page at a time, in a little notebook, and they were of a profound nature that I rarely come up with nowadays. Or, I come up with the thoughts upon observation, but not the crystal clear words. I had ideas to write a book, which I still may yet write, titled: “The Book of Five Way Intersections” In it I wrote:
We leave the womb, never to return. Therefore, we must be world-ward in our actions. There are those that live their lives womb-ward in vain, for one can never return to the comfort of the womb.
Seeking the womb in the world is disastrous. Inevitably we must go toward the world, which brings with it pain. Therefore, be in the world.
I wrote better back then. I used a pencil, and a tiny notebook. Now I’m hunched over a computer. Repetitive stress of typing and using the fucking mouse has resulted in intense pain in my right arm. I will not see a doctor for 3 reasons:
1. He/She will offer me a toxic pill drug.
2. The toxic pill drug will cause more pain than it ‘kills’.
3. The cost of all this is demonstrative of insanity.
World ward thinking: resting, stretching, giving up something (typing) doing MORE with the painful arm but not typing. Correct inaction. Lifting… running maybe? Finding mates. Letting go of SHIT. Worldward behavior.
Womb-ward thinking: Doctor, pain meds, oversleeping, powerlessness, disability claims, big heavy soft bike seats, the TV…
There is only one direction. Love the world, be in the world, be among the people.by