Long and Dense into the Future

All this confrontation with mortality and a world spinning out of control with anger, confrontation, irony, and the true demon of humanity all around us. You get to a certain age and start taking stock. It’s all so weird especially when you live in the future like some of us do.

There are so many things I need to do before I die. Most important is the need to organize all my work and make sure that I print out all the goosey stuff in my computer — much of which was ignited by inspiration but has somewhat disappeared with other ignitions and inspirings piled away on top. I think of the present as the only thing important and the future as music that I am already listening and food that I have been eating, but the past is just piles of stuff and people pretending they know what happened; piles of words and sound and sparkling images. Futility and bass solos.

Predictability: which has been rubbing me the wrong way since I first took too much acid one Saturday night and had a past life show up inside me, running free down a street, alone, an escaped slave on the run aware to my core of having been in prison and needing to find a creek so as to throw off my scent from the dogs I could hear chasing.

I give my life a certain amount more of time before I am crushing in on myself. There are certain books I want to read before then. I’ll name them now:

Moby-Dick, War and Peace, Ulysses, Infinite Jest, The Recognitions, Gravity’s Rainbow, In Search of Lost Time, Finnegan’s Wake … also two great unfinished: …Three Days Before the Shooting, The Pale King.

You figure, four pages a day and time will take care of itself. I tend to start my day off with email and social media, even though I know I shouldn’t and that I’m kind of raping my unconscious mind every morning. Much better to just go with four pages of, say Melville’s masterpiece and a bit of thinking.

I’m guessing here, but I’d say the list above is roughly 15,000 pages of text. That’s about a thousand pages a year and then I can either die or go back to sex, drugs, and rock and roll (although, I am much more interested in jazz these days).

So, then, long and dense into my future. I’m already living alone on the outskirts. This will all just put me even further forward in time.

Hurry up!

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