Out of school, out of work, out of luck. Days are lazy. No hope for a future in the material world, less and less desire to be in it. Society, life, and living, concepts that confound. All these images, all these symbols, all to be rejected from being considered real. It's a game to pretend that it's all real, and it all really ends at death. And if death really is the end, why hasten it? The game can stop being fun. The game can stop having meaning. It can stop having meaning that is brought on by living it.
Earning a salary, going day by day, doing what I’ll be doing for the rest of my life. No more exploration brought on by the time on my hands spent alone.
It confounds me so to live life accepting its symbols while walking on a path that only leads to the end of those symbols as I had come to accept them by just living life.
It confounds me so to be wrapped in this skin, having all the objects and people on the outside and me on the inside. To see, feel, sense, and have everything individualized with separate identities. Objects, the sound of rain, the brightness of light, the secrets of darkness.
I went with Nobuko this evening to check out a band called "Alphabet Soup" at a bar in San Francisco called "Café DuNord", on Market Street near Church. We got there about 8:30 and they didn't come on until 10:00, so we drank beer. I, of course, had been drinking all day with nothing else to do. We discussed our lives and apprehensions about the future. What we usually talk about, it seems.
