I lost control. And that's all she wrote. But then, no joke, I saw poetry in motion. Reality rhyming while I'm mindful of minding business big or small. I came to crawl out of my ego-crib, proceed to promptly sit up straight, witness to reality demonstrate its way with the Way. Okay? And here's what the jam-band would say. It's all atoms dancing, electrons prancing, gluons laughing - but then keep diving, your scuba gear binding, you will get to finding, that there's no separation, just pure space-ness, and upon the amazement and elation that mind-brush will be painting, you will feel the utter and absolute opposite of anxious.
January 2, 2023. On the freeway with my wife and nine-month-old daughter. Left lane, 80 MPH, speed of traffic, 30-or-so feet in front a red sedan suddenly veers into its rightmost lane, not realizing another car is right next to them. The driver overcorrects and next thing I know, both cars have struck each other and are spinning out of control - right in front of our trajectory. Glass shattering, smoke billowing - death smiling at high noon. I don't think. There is no time to think. I quickly look to my right lest making the same grave mistake. No issue. I veer right and don't have enough time to check the next lane. I take a leap of faith and veer right again, just missing the demolished vehicles. I don't have the time or peace of mind to consider what meat sandwich my family and I would have become should we have been stopped by those two cars. I haven't imagined how many more cars joined the pileup. I'm still in shock, and full with gratitude that - within that 1.5-second span - I was able to safely move three lanes and avoid what would have happened.
Had to get this off my chest. Thank you for reading.
One-Hundred-and-Forty-One Characters: A Micro-Novel
Once Upon A Time -
One and Two and Three and Four and Five and Six and Seven and Eight and Nine and Ten and Eleven and Twelve and Thirteen and Fourteen and Fifteen and Sixteen and Seventeen and Eighteen and Nineteen and Twenty and Twenty-One and Twenty-Two and Twenty-Three and Twenty-Four and Twenty-Five and Twenty-Six and Twenty-Seven and Twenty-Eight and Twenty-Nine and Thirty and Thirty-One and Thirty-Two and Thirty-Three and Thirty-Four and Thirty-Five and Thirty-Six and Thirty-Seven and Thirty-Eight and Thirty-Nine and Forty and Forty-One and Forty-Two and Forty-Three and Forty-Four and Forty-Five and Forty-Six and Forty-Seven and Forty-Eight and Forty-Nine and Fifty and Fifty-One and Fifty-Two and Fifty-Three and Fifty-Four and Fifty-Five and Fifty-Six and Fifty-Seven and Fifty-Eight and Fifty-Nine and Sixty and Sixty-One and Sixty-Two and Sixty-Three and Sixty-Four and Sixty-Five and Sixty-Six and Sixty-Seven and Sixty-Eight and Sixty-Nine and Seventy and Seventy-One and Seventy-Two and Seventy-Three and Seventy-Four and Seventy-Five and Seventy-Six and Seventy-Seven and Seventy-Eight and Seventy-Nine and Eighty and Eighty-One and Eighty-Two and Eighty-Three and Eighty-Four and Eighty-Five and Eighty-Six and Eighty-Seven and Eighty-Eight and Eighty-Nine and Ninety and Ninety-One and Ninety-Two and Ninety-Three and Ninety-Four and Ninety-Five and Ninety-Six and Ninety-Seven and Ninety-Eight and Ninety-Nine and One-Hundred and One-Hundred-and-One and One-Hundred-and-Two and One-Hundred-and-Three and One-Hundred-and-Four and One-Hundred-and-Five and One-Hundred-and-Six and One-Hundred-and-Seven and One-Hundred-and-Eight and One-Hundred-and-Nine and One-Hundred-and-Ten and One-Hundred-and-Eleven and One-Hundred-and-Twelve and One-Hundred-and-Thirteen and One-Hundred-and-Fourteen and One-Hundred-and-Fifteen and One-Hundred-and-Sixteen and One-Hundred-and-Seventeen and One-Hundred-and-Eighteen and One-Hundred-and-Nineteen and One-Hundred-and-Twenty and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-One and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Two and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Three and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Four and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Five and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Six and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Seven and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Eight and One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Nine and One-Hundred-and-Thirty and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-One and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Two and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Three and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Four and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Five and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Six and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Seven and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Eight and One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Nine and One-Hundred-and-Forty and One-Hundred-and-Forty-One joined forces as collective Protagonists and, despite an epic struggle, resolved to defeat their Antagonist -
I remember that day - March Tenth, Twenty-Fourteen - when I sank my teeth into the best damn chicken wings ever and washed them down with some whiskey that was old enough to legally drink itself, listening to the author whose mind caught lightning in its bottle - top-shelf lightning - and hearing the sparks of "Prose." fly with absolute freedom, savoring the freedom that was this idea, so pure, so beautiful, the best of social media married with the best of writing, a place not for the eyes, not for the mind, but for the heart and soul, for the highest echelons of our very being - for us to consume bite-sized amounts of the very finest written word, as if we were at a Michelin-star diner disguised as a casual, unsuspecting street kitchen - and for us then to be taken on the most winding road, most agonizing and scintillating journey, to have experienced the most medieval of all dark nights of any app's soul, only to escape that prison, as of late, in a way that gives Shawshank a sprint for its motherfucking mint.
You can support the author by unlocking it.
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Bitch please. You want PC? I'll give you Mac. Fuck it, Big Mac. Fuck you, MACDonald's. And fuck you too, Billy G and Stevie J, you guys were insecure as fuck and took it out on most of us. Bitch please. You want vanilla? Well here's neopolitan, freeze-dried, because my head is in motherfucking space. Save face. I have a memo for you. Yes, YOU. It's all one place and it's all the original face, like Stuart said.
It was none other than Leonardo da Vinci.
"Technology," he stated, "is indeed the means to this end. However, technology is a double-edged sword - it can be respected and it can be abused. Furthermore, the technology that will transform this world into utopia cannot be sourced by the government. We have waited centuries, even millenia, for public officials to successfully serve the people, and as we know, the history of humanity is stained with blood and tragedy. No, this technology must come from the people..."
"What technology?" asked Musk.
"The technology must make learning, serving, and healing as pleasurable as one can possibly imagine."
"What do you mean?"
"As we have discussed, education is central to this transformation. Modern schooling has failed miserably. All the information, all the knowledge, is now accessible by billions of people, and yet the educational content is not structured, nor is consuming it enjoyable. In the year 2021, billions of humans invest hours every day into consuming mindless and shallow internet content. Humans are addicted to social media. Yet discovery, learning, education, is or at least can be far more gratifying than meaningless photos and videos. There must be a global, online academy that is more enjoyable than the most enjoyed social media, which will in turn make it the most effective means of education. Learning alone is insufficient, though. Serving others - impactful, charitable, philanthropic activities - must be incentivized via technology. The technology will document, coordinate, and celebrate everyone's efforts to help other beings. Finally, technology must incentivize us to become healthy - mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually - if we are to realize such a utopian dream. The same mechanics, the same psychology rendered digitally, which addicts billions of people to the shallow mindlessness of social media, must be applied to learning, serving, and healing."
"I don't believe that is possible," said Aristotle.
"Allow me to explain."
Title? Fuck titles.
When the storm arrives, would you be seen with me?
Life's a movie and Nolan's my director.
My agent's adjacent to the adjunct, defunct fixture.
I swirl like the wind.
Saul Williams' syllables sear through my seance, essentially -
My skin is blue, Vishnu, Avataric Consciousness
(you wish y'knew
(yet you do)
and you don't).
Pandoric horoscopic potent-potionistic, verbalistic
on the kosmic ocean -
while I am relishing in every single syntactic
You are more than most welcom(ing).