Hornet's Nest
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A wild morning on the dog walk |
There is no escape. You can't be a vagabond and an artist and still be a solid citizen, a wholesome, upstanding man. You want to get drunk, so you have to accept the hangover. You say yes to the sunlight and pure fantasies, so you have to say yes to the filth and the nausea. Everything is within you, gold and mud, happiness and pain, the laughter of childhood and the apprehension of death. Say yes to everything, shirk nothing. Don't try to lie to yourself. You are not a solid citizen. You are not a Greek. You are not harmonious, or the master of yourself. You are a bird in the storm. Let it storm! Herman Hesse.
Well, then, the story, or this part of the story, has to begin somewhere, he said conversationally.
For days that giant disembodied eagles wing, blanketing the sky, a piercing eye, all of it had come back to here. "Take root," the spirits said, but here, in this dismal, lonely place. Well, it didn't have to be that way, but certainly he had felt that; most recently, often.
He had allowed his house to be overtaken by rats, literally, real rats now banished with a bit of RatSack, and human, with their meth addictions and their deceits.
After failed attempts at suicide from his early teenage years, now those dark agency forces were encouraging him to do it again. Here at the opposite end of the journey, after his 74th birthday. All was deceit.
He had been hiding in the forest litter for months. There was too much treachery afoot. It became, with the evolving technologies, impossible to tell what was deceit and what was genuine, what was telepathy and what was madness.
At the edge of the abandoned, ransacked village, doors creaked into impossible, heart breaking scenes, and beyond those humble, simple, dwellings, forlorn without their occupants, lay an even greater darkness. The times were disturbed, he was disturbed, "existential threat' became a piece of common parlance, and away they went, the soldiers assembling on cliff tops, the soaring birds, the grey heron that kept visiting his backyard and then disappeared.
All of it magical, in a land of magic both dark and light. We shall see where it leads, that's all we could do.
Be patient said the wise man, but he was neither patient nor wise.
But he did go and see the Odysey. And far off, the Iran War stumbled from one farce to another, leaving thousands dead.
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