09 — Give It Up

My feet rub against the softness of what I beg to define as a sofa. I beg because I don’t have a sofa, neither do I want one. I am fine with the vastness of this sidewalk that has been gifted to me. I can stay here as long as I like. But then how long would I like? I don’t know. Never thought about it until now. But given that I have now, better yet just fix the answer. Would ten hours work? I guess they would, I guess they should. How about ten years? How about I insert my little finger into a running socket? Can I then graze my body with the sharpest vibe to elevate me to the highest order? Reawake within the lost sense of living? To be true with who I wish to be? I don’t think I can continue to stay on the streets any longer. Because where I stand today is much different than where I once used to be. Plus the garbage dump by my side is burning my nasals. God what a gross dissatisfaction. It should’ve been worse, and I would’ve dealt with it. But right now I’ve got a taste of luxury in my senses, imaginary and fleeting, merely as a notion.

Why do I keep forgetting where I came from? Perhaps it helps me stay more in the moment, so I can fully inhale the secreted fumes of toxicity rising through the black gutters of my existence. Ahhh!! An incorrigible past is what I remember now. Maybe I should go get something to eat. I won’t beg, might as well steal, but the necessity won’t arise. I think I will find something pretty soon. Good lord! Wish this would have been my typical Saturday, but much tragically it isn’t. The dumpster truck didn’t come in today, and then it’s a lousy day so not many people pass by. What difference does it make? I have to go.

It all started with the friends who changed. They were different before and became different thereafter. Left me no scope of hatred or even a mild flair of envy. I fell so low that they all rose away like a distant dream. First, they talked different, then they walked different, and then they shifted shapes. If I were to see them anywhere around, I probably wouldn’t see them. Neither would they. I mean they would, but they won’t. That’s the quid-pro-quid we settled at. But I have eased up on their memories. Closed all chapters. Ceased acquaintances. That way I became free from worldly misgivings. Sure if I were to beg one of them, they’ll probably help me out, arrange me a job. But as I said before, I won’t beg, might as well steal, but….nevermind.

This you see is Sikanov’s house. Sikanov might be the reason why I chose to abandon my wife and make this world my other half. Sikanov inspired me to learn and let go. He himself was a sharp-looking man. Extremely tall, extremely broad, appeared to be a hunk he was, women loved him. Even my woman loved him. So I gave her up, to him, that way all three of us were square. I had the pleasure of giving up, and Sikanov had the luxury of having something, much like the paintings on his house walls. But I knew that my woman was not a forever kind. Sikanov merely was tasting some sugar on his lips that wouldn’t stay too sweet for long.

Next what we can see here is the house of Marlinda. Marlinda was a dear one. The only thing that stood between us was her persistent appeal at becoming a higher version of herself. She wished she could have permanent housing, someplace she could call her own. Where maybe she could settle in, nail some photo-frames on the wall, let the water run for a few seconds more if she’d liked to. No, no she did not ask me to give anything up. But I did it anyway. I gifted her this house. 100% tax-free. All mortgages paid on time. That way I got two things off my mind. First, Marlinda’s incessant cries of poverty. Second, worry about those nail marks on my walls.

Here-here-here, now what do we have here? This is something that I called secure employment. My corporation, the finest one in the whole state. Did everything in their capacity to keep me thriving and fortunate. Unfortunately, it was Markoft, my junior who I befriended way too much, much more than I could’ve asked for. That could’ve been the reason why when I saw the ambition in his eyes for my post, I didn’t take a single second to quit my firm. It wasn’t easy, to be honest, but Markoft’s virtues had been pestering my emotions for quite some time so it didn’t make much sense to not give in to them.

So that’s about it. Through careful consideration and careful selection, my life boiled itself down to this. Free of abstractions and close-minded delusions. Now I am more of a free thinker, a three thinker who thinks of three thoughts every day. I see life thriving around me, deprived of ego and the kind of sentimentality that hinders your worldview. There is no point running around the same scheme of things. What’s best in life is to do whatever seems to be best at that fucking point in time. When I was giving things up, taking off my clothes and shelter, I was simply driven by a desire to be absolutely naked and present for what I am.

Depriving myself of solidarity and perceived success is a voluntary effort at self-preservation. Having given it all away I realized that I could still stay intact with the bare minimum. Neither it is a final resolution nor the ultimate phase of discovery beyond which life wouldn’t exist. Certainly not the case as I perceive. However, I do have to say I sometimes feel compelled to curse Melinda & Sikanov & Markoft.

If it wasn’t for these bastards and their emotional entrapment, I could continue living the way I was living on and on forever. With my wife, my house, a pet perhaps, and surely that goldmine job that didn’t treat me like a slave at least. Yes, I would’ve continued to repel my wife, be confined in my house, and feel like an object in my company. But that would still be a form of living. So is the way I bid my time on the streets. I don’t hope to return back though. I have settled in and will stay so for the foreseeable future.

Amen.

P.S. If you have some food, I won’t mind..but I won’t steal, you know because I….