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It makes me quite sad that so many Barbelites don't think they're living, really. And there's such deep cynicism about 'life' even being an option. Sad, sad, sad. Which makes me wonder what the hell people are doing, really, and why they feel so powerless. You kids really need to go read some Debord; think about the spectacle and how it chains you to your boredom. Then become a Neoist; I've heard they really know how to live.
</'pro-situ' spielising>
Me, I'm breathing. I'm typing. I'm probably living. I have made very deliberate choices about how to live; I feel like my life is very much the product of those choices and if some of it isn't working out, that's a reason to keep looking for more effective ways to get where I want to go. I'm not particularly 'happy' all the time but I don't believe happiness is the goal, anyhow. How could it be when the world is so fucked up? On the other hand, I have a lot of friends who are constantly surprising me with their wit and grace and impossibility and love, I still manage to surprise myself heaps. And I have a place to live, enough food to eat, coffee every morning and circus classes. The only thing I'm not doing enough of is dancing. Maybe.
A long time ago, a friend of mine wrote to me from Israel with a request to dance in any roundabout that I found myself in/on/walking past. It was a kind of connection thing: we missed each other lots, and we decided that if we both danced in roundabouts on opposite sides of the world, we'd have some crazy connection across the seas. So I'd like to extend the invitation outwards to anyone who doesn't think they're living. Go on, find a roundabout sometime today. Take yr Walkman or don't. Just do a little hip-wiggle in the grassy patch, okay? For at least a minute. I guarantee, it will make you feel much more alive. |
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