Pathos in Prose

I had lunch with my comrades, my seed-heavy wayward revolutionaries - a pot luck. We decided we would not bring food for the body but food for the soul. We passed around a few cigarettes and opened our hearts to each other in a park in Red Hook at an old picnic table. We fed each other substantial spoonfuls of childhood memory, vulnerable expressive idea, offered gulps of personal opinions - no judgment involved! This type of honesty and utter acceptance, my patrons of revolution, is a strip lit path toward revolution.
We sat their with Sir Jesse and listened to his story about the first time he put on reading glasses. How he stood completely still in that same place for 62 hours. 62 hours! His initial feeling of pleasure and empowerment enabled him to ignore the countless Duane Reade workers trying to pursued him to exit the store or at least reposition further from the cashier area. How the longer he went without acknowledging anyone or moving from where he was built mental strength upon courage, and furthermore how he underwent physical tests of endurance from not sitting to rest. He pissed and shat in his pants multiple times! He was not fearful of what others thought or said, or when they took pictures and giggled. Despite managers and watered down rent-a-cops Sir Jesse stood there with dignity for his own accord, then when he was ready - he chose to leave. He went back to his apartment and turned on the romantic comedy When Harry Met Sally. I love that guy more deeply in a wayward way now.
We sat their with Ben the Spider and listened to his story about the day he didn't eat a pie. For weeks - hell - years, Ben the Spider has said, 'eat a pie, save a life'. He opened up the painful memory of the time he was loitering on the street and feeling woozy. A good-natured family passing through happen to pick the Spider for asking directions. The Spider was turned around himself as his focus was all off and he sent them down a one-way road. They thanked him graciously - fifteen feet and one right turn later a hummer suddenly ended the life of that honda civic and any other miserable existence inside the civic. The Spider played audience to this real life real time drama. (He also found one of the five year olds fingers in his jacket pocket. Weird that it happen to fly in just right like that.) His blood-sugar was low for he disregarded his innate predispositional beliefs for the importance of sweets earlier that day at a diner. Ben the Spider feels the burden of that familys miserable deaths. I understand his pain and passions more fully. I, also, love that guy more deeply in a wayward way now.

So as you go about your seemingly boring lives: readers, seekers, and re-seekers; open yourselves up to each other. Share yourselves, don't be shy. I'll bet the person behind the eyes on the other side of the table is just as fucked up and has just as much baggage.

On the importance of Dessert... delicious...

I have noticed a self destructive pattern eating away at out generation. It is a flame of self hate engulfing the very spirit of our nation and it starts right after dinner. Let me take you through the scenario: You've just finished your meal, you're feeling close to satisfaction and hoping that if you keep sipping your water, you'll get there before leaving the restaurant. Suddenly, your extremely attractive college undergrad waitress asks you the question of the day, "Would you be interested in dessert?" you think about the dessert choices that you took note of before your initial order. An apple crumb cake, or maybe even a chocolate fudge brownie caught your eye, maybe you were feeling froggy and wanted to leap headfirst into a bananas foster cheese cake with a bailey's cream sauce... or something like that. Then you think about your figure and you politely decline the temptation of adding a sugary conclusion to your night... Who the hell do you think you are!? Wait! Allow me to answer that! A Traitor! And for those of you who don't follow my logic, I'll explain it to you just to be fair. So let's just say that on Wednesday you decide that you don't want that delicious chocolate croissant after your meal. Later that night, because of the void left by your lack of dessert, you find yourself binge eating to make up for you craving, trying to gain the satisfaction you gave up in favor of looking healthy in front of your friends. So you gorge yourself on cheez-its, chocolate milk, ice cream, and those little SnackWells fat free devils food cookie cakes (that look so damn good, but are never as delicious as you want them to be) before dragging your swelling body into your room and passing out upside down on your full size tempurpedic mattress. Because of your late Wednesday night gorge fest, Thursday morning is spent blowing feces out of your rectum at such an alarming rate that you can feel your cheeks lifting off of your toilet seat, which puts you off of the thought of eating breakfast, so you skip it. Thursday afternoon finds you in a bad position on the job, lacking focus due to lack of nourishment. Unfortunately for America, your job involves the design of very important infrastructure. So you, being malnourished, doze off before a huge deadline instead of, checking one last time for that one tiny flaw (that we all know exists), before you hand it over to your superiors who immediately begin construction as not to upset taxpayers... How you could you be so careless? And what's worse is that while your beloved tunnel or bridge is collapsing on all of our beloved citizens, You'll be thinking to yourself "Damn... I should've had that pie". So please, for the love of God, remember this phrase: Eat a pie, Save a life. Remember that, and may God have mercy on your sin-sick soul.


And this is for you!