An incestuous self-comment in addition:Today in the U-Bahn a man with bulging pockets and a raspy voice preached to all the tired bored faces who didn't want to listen to him just because he looked like he hadn't changed dress since the 80s and had too much stuff in his jeans pockets and too much beer in his skinny hands - to all of those who didn't want to listen that is to everyone in the compartment: he preached about how no one should have children because there wasn't enough oxygen in the air or water in the water and there would be the apocalypse which word he didn't use but here it is on the page: and this reminded me of my climate change activistish friends who believe the same who aren't listened to either for different reasons as their voices are too girlishly soft and shrill and they don't drink enough beer and their secondhand dress is too colourful to remain noticed and and hasn't been changed since the 70s when they weren't alive and now they're wearing it for three straight weeks in the quest of saving water in spite of having been born. So then in the U-Bahn today everyone looked bored when he told them not to procreate as to pro/create or to /create that is the question among all of us common-sensical and loving beings whom I speak of here as “they” though I mean neither they nor us but just various forms trying to extend the self outwards romantically even without reading poetry: those beings who can't stop producing something just something / whatever / it is / desperate to leave their mark somehow through some imposition of force as if they stopped doing stuff they think / they would /'d be that beer-stained bum not ignorant but ignored / rather than that pale-eyed commuter they're now with a sack as face reading self-help books on overcoming obstacles but not listening to the man who then told them they should accept their flaws and those of others but no one cared just because he was too flawed/'s not in the self-help section of the U-Bahn compartment and raised his raspy voice without anyone having paid for anything but the rattling sound movement of the train.
I just read this and it's 9.48, I think it's going to trouble at me for most of my day at work. Thanks/ how dare you.G
Dear G,I'm glad/sad about your troubled day. Perhaps we could really "discuss" this as more than a joke-"discuss" when we reconvene one day.Bestest, and thanks for the comment,LJ