An opinion about The Life Narcotic

A maddening sickness lies at the heart of my condition. 

I'm poisoned by the nature of blindness.

I take no satisfaction in "Progress" or material gain. 

I'm too broken tired and justified to lust for money.

I will not work for rest.

I want to be overwhelmed by my misfortunes; to toil endlessly in the fields of my own excrement. 

It never happens. 

I'm too aware of the simple truth of it all… I earn it. 

Day by day, hour to hour, second to every second as I lazily play a part in a broken narrative that our fair author has no intention of finishing. 

Were this a film we'd not rent it again. 

I don't want to be impressed by your wit or charm or even conciseness.

You don't have to tolerate mine… that much is clear. 

I'm watching an Ant crawl on coco brown skin. 

He is not planing for the day he has done enough.

To actually be in love with your survival, what a thing.

A voice coming from the walls shouts hard and direct… something about fairness and how entirely possible it could be. Give up the bag, the hang, the ammunition, the loaded gun. Find a heart inside your mind and fall in love with stillness.

I want to see you at the ocean 

smile instead of saying words

drippy

sap

words.

What's my opinion?

The atom bomb is the word

the truth is caked in vomit

uncontrolled 

on the walls 

under your fingernails.

How do you know if something's truly bad? You smell it. 

It would be rotten to blame people.

To blame decisions. 

Who in their right mind would ever decide against cold beer and BBQ? 

The sun is hot and trying to tell us something.

Stand still in the sand and burn

Burn fast and bright as hell

Talk less

say more.

I am looking long and hard for the American Dream.

The Musician and The Officer

Friday January 3rd 2014 approximately 1:15 am 

Two people remain in the front car of a Coney Island bound D Train, One A 6'2 Caucasian NYPD officer, the other… me … A 5'2" Puerto Rican rock musician with a missing front tooth and slight limp. Positioned at opposite ends of the car for 3 or 4 stops the thought of passing up this opportunity becomes ridiculous. I do what any forward thinking fearless (slightly drunk) freedom fighter would, I rise from my seat and begin to walk across the train. 

The first seconds are tense. As I approach his posture stiffens, instinctively his hand lowers to his pistol, it's subtle… he's trained for this but I have instincts of my own. I crack a smile and relax my shoulders throwing up my right hand as if I was flagging down my cousin across the street. I say "good evening" and the conversation begins.

"Officer, I'm sorry to bother you but I was wondering if I could ask you a question, You see, I'm a professional musician and one of the primary skills necessary in my work is to facilitate a connection between the audience and the art, with that in mind I couldn't help but notice how tense this car got when you stepped on, what I was wondering was in your experience what is the best way for a civilian like myself to engage an officer in a humanistic way?"

I was met with a blank stare…

"You mean like, talk?" He said simply, in a heavy, defensive captain of the high school team cadence.

"Yes! Exactly, how do we get past being fearful of each other?"

He paused for a second to think it over.

"The way you just did."  He said "Most times you see us and think something is bad but we aren't bad."

It was a simple answer with simple wisdom. A strange feeling came between us in this moment, we both knew I was the more "Intelligent" "Articulate"  perhaps even "Educated" person and he let out an honest revelation.

"If you didn't come talk to me I would have thought you were trouble."

"is it the outfit?"

"A few things, you were moving a lot and singing to yourself, you've got weird drawings on your pants… you don't look like other people and it's late"

"Fair enough, It should be easier than this shouldn't it?"

"What happened to your leg?"

"Cerebral Palsy, I've been like this my whole life. This is my stop sir, thank you very much for talking with me"

"Take care of yourself."

"Stay safe."

"Thank you."

As the doors closed and the train sped away I looked out to the other end of the platform at the staircase. It seemed so far away but I knew that reaching it would be as simple as walking, something of course thats never been all that simple for me. I put my head down and trudged forward through the slushy mud that New York City snow becomes. I'm sure it was cold on the walk home but I didn't feel it. We were humans together, that Cop and I. I got the distinct feeling that we both wished that happened more often.