The power went out the other day, right at 5:30 or so, after a big thunderstorm blew through. As it got twilight, I laid on the screened in back porch bed and vibed to the quiet. No riding mowers buzzing around, no compounded hums from the electrical wires buzzing in all our homes and overhead… just a deep, chill, settled down quiet. The folks two doors down got a generator and generally they get it fired up, but for whatever reason, they hadn’t yet. And being all the shit in the fridge was gonna be okay for a little while, made me wish we had deep quiet like that every now and then. My house is never that quiet when power’s running to it.
Of course, by the next morning, them folks had their generator running, and so did someone else, and people had begun panicking to get back to normal. I liked it still (still). It was true wild. Often times, we as humans use “wild” to mean out of order, or lacking the expected order, so we assume that means chaotic and bad. But this wild was just a deeply peaceful silence. And other times, shit we call “wild” is just seeking joy or happiness or living human lives by a different set of inspirations and motivators than what is considered “normal”, which honestly ain’t even normal so much as what we’re collectively trained to think like. Wild style ain’t necessarily bad, or chaotic; it’s just different than the established order to things, and usually unwanted by those in control of the established order. But them power dudes got the vast system of glorified extension cords humming again, and I could quickly enough poison my wild stream of consciousness with trending algorithms and flat world realities again. I was wondering about how my stream of consciousness would flow in true wild, not tethered to or trained by all this bullshit my whole goddamn life.
I guess we’ll never know. Or we already do and don’t like the answer. Or aren’t allowed to accept it.
Of course, by the next morning, them folks had their generator running, and so did someone else, and people had begun panicking to get back to normal. I liked it still (still). It was true wild. Often times, we as humans use “wild” to mean out of order, or lacking the expected order, so we assume that means chaotic and bad. But this wild was just a deeply peaceful silence. And other times, shit we call “wild” is just seeking joy or happiness or living human lives by a different set of inspirations and motivators than what is considered “normal”, which honestly ain’t even normal so much as what we’re collectively trained to think like. Wild style ain’t necessarily bad, or chaotic; it’s just different than the established order to things, and usually unwanted by those in control of the established order. But them power dudes got the vast system of glorified extension cords humming again, and I could quickly enough poison my wild stream of consciousness with trending algorithms and flat world realities again. I was wondering about how my stream of consciousness would flow in true wild, not tethered to or trained by all this bullshit my whole goddamn life.
I guess we’ll never know. Or we already do and don’t like the answer. Or aren’t allowed to accept it.
No comments:
Post a Comment