Streaking and Shrieking

Seven thirty.

I hate politics. Biden’s vaccine mandates force me to be political, however. I didn’t know how to respond when our church musician said he had no tolerance for the unvaccinated, but now I can say that he was too extreme. For more than one reason, I want to boycott the church, and Biden’s action makes this decision even stronger for me… Last night I took my medication, and a few hours later felt worse than I’ve ever felt in my life… I don’t know. I don’t care what I say anymore. Life really sucks for everyone right now, so I guess anything goes. I feel like throwing off all my clothes and running screaming through the streets until I get arrested; but chances are that nothing would happen to me… I just trashed the daily church email without opening it. Aesop is whining for his breakfast. At least dogs are apolitical and innocent. I wish people had as much sense as my dog. 

X-ray Eyes

Ten thirty.

It was kind of a hectic morning, but I got the X-rays out of the way. The nicest people I dealt with were the actual X-ray technician and a young girl named Ophelia who helped me with the lockers. The rest were rather perfunctory. And the cabbie on the return trip was also kind. On the way to the hospital, we passed the park under the Washington-Jefferson Street Bridge, where I saw a number of homeless people camped in particolored tents. I hadn’t been to that part of town in many months. It was an alarming sight, quite a shock to see it suddenly again. I got a sense of coldness and apathy from the general scene beneath an indifferent gray sky. These were the dispossessed and forgotten, but still not invisible. The feeling of coldness extended to the waiting room of the imaging place. The clients in their masks eyed each other with mistrust, and the receptionists were either dull and impassive or else obsequious and fake. I ran into a Black man from Belize I had met in church riding the elevator. He didn’t recognize me, nor I him until I thought about it later. Evidently he was employed with P—Health; he and a lot of people. All in all, it felt like consorting with a bunch of robots except for a few who were more personal and organic. In every way possible, the scenario was one size fits all, right down to the chaplains. It was so much like a scene out of A Wrinkle in Time, where the suburbs were run by a huge ruthless brain called IT… 

A Rant

Hello. Just a test. Yes I guess this app will work ok…

One thirty seven. The ads on this app are making me a little crazy. No wonder it was free. I hear The Song of the Nightingale in my head. Damn machines. I wish I could reverse time and progress but it only goes in one direction, and we have to do it together. If I could emigrate from the human race, sometimes I feel that I would. I feel terrible this afternoon. I don’t have time to take a nap. We can only grow the way the wind blows. I feel an invasion of privacy by using this tablet. Aesop is barking at other dogs in the neighborhood. Well let me express myself intelligently and then maybe the world is an ok place. Since when is the whole world my family? Being connected means much more than it used to. No one has any privacy at all. And it will only get worse. It’s like George Orwell ‘s worst nightmare come true. I had believed that my family was the only problem, but no; nobody can be an individual anymore. This is my impression from using my tablet again after a long hiatus. The world is bound to get a lot louder and the inner realm of silence, the subjective experience, will simply go out of existence. Only the public shall prevail while the private goes extinct. And then there won’t be much more for me to do…