There is no consensus.
To some, including myself, I am detestable.
Others find my derangements entertaining.
What none of these people,
including myself, understand, is that I am
deranged for better or worse
because I’m chasing hope
as a dog chases cars,
up the road, into traffic,
oblivious to danger, drooling in anticipation,
seeing the metallic glint of a bumper
as more than light
reflecting off a piece of metal
assembled at a factory
I suspect that hope deranges
the mind, as sex deranges loins
as loins derange entire civilizations.
Here is an experiment:
I will lose all hope.
In doing so, I aim to prove that it is possible to make the entire world love you,
if only you are brave enough to abandon hope.
I will, however, leave my loins intact.
Written at 5:19 in the afternoon, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA, while approaching the kind of hunger that drives civilized people to eat the rubber off their shoes.