saw.see

see . saw

Some deity of prepossession took hold in America, leaving little room for argument and debate. Lady liberty gripped her torch so tight her hand began to crumble and her arm fissured and fell off, her torch falling into Hudson Bay where water met fire with the strangest sound. Water won and the western world was a little darker, hard to see. The thinker felt the ripple in time and stood up against his master’s orders. Millions of women marched and the men, well, they also serve who stand and wait. Behind bulletproof glass and whitewashed timber, the purposeful and power-laden drew back the drapes and saw only panhandlers, holding signs and begging for change.
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terrorism sux

Paris is incredible. Incroyable. Very possibly the most treasured city in the world, though I hate to use superlatives. Have you been there? You will understand the origin of the café and people will talk back to you, tell you how they really feel, argue with you, almost fight with you before you all get down to the basic human show of kindness, and share some bread crusts and cheese, water and wine, coffee and conversation. And embrace one another, locating a point of arrival  – by point of departure. You gotta roll up sleeves and put forth the knuckles of convictions first, show them where you stand. Only then can you find common ground somewhere between, which often is the character behind the words and philosophies. Willingness to defend your cause and country. Loyalty. Spiritedness. Cohesion.Esprit de corps. This is the French term for the universal experience of morale. Uniting behind a common cause. And in these times of terrorism (under attack today in Nice) we need the glue only France can manufacture. Let our hearts go out to the lives lost and the lives living with the loss. We all can feel the loss and let those who we have lost inspire us to counter by coming together somehow to heal these differences because we all can agree, on ALL sides, terror and Terrorism suck.

journal #

Politics goes on like usual in our country and some people take sides and others don’t and everyone seems to wanna espouse something even if it’s indifference. I cannot eat an apple because I have a temporary crown. I could cut one up but it’s not the same. I prefer not to use a knife on anything if I can help it. Someone once used a knife on me. They asked for money and all I had was some change. This was Chicago in maybe 2001. I had a buck knife I used to carry around then, but it wasn’t on me that night. Not that I would have used it, I’m sure I wouldn’t have dared. Not with a knife to my throat. Another time several years later in San Francisco I was with a guy in a motel, a dealer, and he took his blade and used it to barricade the door. I guess the lock on the knob was broken. Then we had sex but we didn’t make love. And no I never saw him again. All I wanna do is eat an apple but one of my teeth is plastic and it’s just too risky. Politicians go on and on, calling one another devils an making promises as though they don’t already know they won’t be able to keep them. They feign that sorta innocence, as though they aren’t really politicians just people who want the best for you and me. That’s what’s so heartbreaking about it. Someone acts like they’re innocent but they really aren’t.         — KatYa, 2016

hong kong song

they would not they
could not contain
the iron the
train

as traveled
the trax of
desire

the furnace
the fire
turned red

and blew through
the stead
of the home
of the old

selfie

katya by katya

ragged
guard

GUMBUBBLE THIN

The GPS of fear would not pinpoint. I tapped my wristwatch laptop glass, thinking the problem was my micro-pentium generic processor. Which was notably degraded from infancy onward. Seiko had stopped outsourcing, and brought computer engineering inhouse to try and cut costs. I made the mistake of buying the low-end previous year’s model wristwatch, non-refundable, at the great Sears liquidation sale of 2016.

What an event. Watching the grandpa of one-stop shop household name catalogue-innovator cookie-cutter corporate entities of 20th century America, finally get sucked up into a big gulp straw from the bottom of a concrete bunker once symbolic of its own institutionalized permanence, by the bottomless pit of American consumer thirst. Essentially cannibalized by the monster it helped create.

I stopped tapping when i remembered the news that was broadcast to my ocular contact sensors via Amazon satellite delivery through a drone intermediary hanging stealth in the sky, not a half-mile from my head.

The Ebola virus had swallowed half of Africa and was now resisting arrest on every continent. More than a quarter million dead, ten times as many estimated infected. Wow. What a nightmare. And still the global response was tepid and decentralized.

Putin kept telling the world how he could not understand why Russia’s task force of scientists, doctors and engineers had not yet participated in the leading nations efforts toward containment. He claimed to have mobilized them one year previous. Another great mystery. The States were meanwhile stretched completely gumbubble thin, fighting the perceived enemy in Iraq.

I realized then and there, that my Seiko low-end theory was miscalculated. My microprocessor was not at fault. Nothing could pinpoint the GPS.

Fear was ubiquitous, gumbubble thin, and this very moment crawling up the back of my spine.

destination politics

i feel sorry for anyone who says you are going to hell or heaven awaits us. Where is this far distant place? to locate oneself at some point in the future? I call this destination politics, and I copyright it NOW. I live here, now. My world I create as I go along. So does anybody. Go back and look at your life. The choices you had. Anywhere on the timeline. You will see you created your life as it stands. You will see how you could not predict your own future. Except in terms of your attitude toward life. I predict my future, in terms of my effort. And my effort exists only right now, as I type.

Attempted novelist.

Attempted social worker.

Attempted empath.

Attempted poet.

Heaven or hell? These culturally impoverished symbols stand out to me, moment to moment. Am i in pain? To what extent? Do I feel good about myself. How so? What I am finding is it all correlates to my efforts. My efforts to be sincere, and think outside of my self. My efforts to exercise and share my talents, without fear of reprisal, without demanding any return on my investment of time and energy. Having faith that all will be provided me. When I live there, I guess you could call this heaven. The way I see it, this is never a place to go, this is a place to be

When I am so self-consumed or in fear or inaction, living in patterned recollections of situations which did not go my way, living in expectation of what’s to come, playing destination politics with other people and myself… when I demand and control my way around the place… This is some hell. 

And religion has nothing to do with it. 

And religion has nothing to do with it.

And religion has nothing to do with it. Image