Listen to a reading of this article:
❖
Just for fun we all pretend to be strangers.
Just for fun we pretend we don't know each other on the street,
on the train, at the store, at the traffic light.
Just for fun we pretend we aren't locked in ecstatic union
and briefly ignore our intimate knowledge of the primordial secrets
behind each other's eyes.
We sit on the bus and try not to be the first to wink,
or to burst out laughing at the silliness of our game,
or to call out the goofy elephant in the room
about how we're all pretending to be strangers
just for fun.
Two spouses pause mid-coitus to shake hands and introduce themselves.
Two twins in the womb make awkward small talk about the weather.
The thumb and the index finger avoid eye contact on the elevator.
Two slimy babies squirt into the same universe,
made from the same stuff,
and then put on masks made of mind chatter
so we can pretend that we don't know each other.
My atoms are your atoms, and your atoms are mine.
We have danced this swirling energy orgy since before the Big Bang.
Playing positive and negative,
playing stimulus and response,
playing predator and prey,
playing mother and youngling,
playing enemies and lovers,
playing strangers on the internet,
just for fun.
I apologize, my timeless sibling,
for breaking character just this once.
Let us return now to our little game.
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Imagine how astonished (appalled?) we'd be if that all that mind chatter of the thousands/millions in your vicinity were broadcast over community loudspeakers. I'd bet that a quite large percentage of that chatter would reveal itself as the ridiculous tangle of irrelevancy implanted by Capitalist economic consumption propaganda, an internal muck of jingles, images, and verbiage designed to enrich elites and pauperize the rest of the biosphere. That complete waste of nerve impulses would be joined by those underlying speculation about the other, folks we like or dislike, folks we admire, envy, celebritize, detest, many of those impressions aimed at individuals of whom we have no direct personal knowledge, whether it be Jill Stein, Johnny Depp, or Donald Trump. Broadcast, that noisy chaos would drive most of us in search of earplugs, yet we have difficulty finding the internal earplugs to stanch those loudspeakers in our heads. I'm convinced that a measure of the immense waste of mental and therefore actual biochemical energy implicit in all this chaotic brain-merda would amount to a stunning number of Joules.
Hey, Caitlin, I love you. And not in a weird way or any way to make your husband or my wife jealous. Just love, like Jesus,/John Lennon kind of love.