Day 2, Soccer Game, 15 April 2017

Drunk.

Field.

Crowd.

Noise.

Confetti.

Time.

Thought.

Distraction.                                                              Back home, she, by herself, does she miss me

Field.                                                                         does anyone miss anyone, is this possible? 

Game.                                                                       what is longing but an emptiness, and why, (we should invite the question) does an emptiness fill us up? How does an emptiness overtake even basic logic? Why do we long for things beyond us, away from us, far from us, behind us? Why not long for whatever is with us in the moment (?) long to grasp the things we see as a fish on land attempts with every violent movement of its body to take in air, which it cannot even breathe. 

Crowd.                                                                      You don’t miss her, you don’t miss anything. 

Friends.                                                                    All is fine, beyond fine. 

Drunk.                                                                      What about the world you occupy, which is nothing but suffering? 

Field.                                                                          I am not a sufferer. I am dumb. 

Goal.                                                                          The dumb don’t suffer.

Confetti.                                                                    Suffering is saved for the clairvoyant. 

Crowd.                                                                      All of these people. Where are they outside 

Friends.                                                                    this stadium? Where are they outside my 

Drink.                                                                        mind?

Game.                                                                       Nowhere. They disperse and furrow underground away from sight, away from mind, into nothing, just as I am nothing to them.

Field.                                                                         in this we are connected. Thirty thousand strong, invisible to each other, nonexistent but for in the minds of we and the minds of other.

Friends.                                                                    But you I know and love; you are with me forever, always. 

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Written at 6:27 at night, 13 April 2017, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA, in prediction of a moment I will experience 15 April 2017, at a soccer game in Orlando FL.