The Baltimore Kid by Tom DiVenti

Author:Tom DiVenti [DiVenti, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Baltimore Americana
Publisher: Hekate Publishing
Published: 2019-04-19T00:00:00+00:00

LOST WEEKENDS/ENDLESS SUMMERS

Harry Dean Stanton, 91, died recently. One of the best character actors of our time, he played loners, drifters, losers, and eccentrics. He had sentiments, opinions, beliefs, and ideas on life and living. He was the characters he portrayed. He ascribed to the meaninglessness of existence, and said nothing really matters. He said everything that happens will happen. There are no reasons. There are no accidents. There’re too many answers to the same question. Why? There’s never enough time in a day or lifetime to do it all. We take it on the chin, keep a stiff upper lip and kick ass. We make it hard, or easy. Life can be a battle, a bare-knuckle alley brawl. It can be a permanent vacation. All our compassion doesn’t guarantee a ticket to the promised land.

It’s always time to lace up the gloves, or throw them off. Hang up your guns, or lock and load. Call me a naysaying fucker but all this shit of late is too much. My artificial intelligence is getting in the way of my artificial reality. All these substitutes for reality are now the industry standard for what constitutes the norm. If someone wants to get lost they can easily disappear. If you’re looking to be found just be available. It’s the games people play. Happiness will eventually make you sad. You can’t sustain joy forever. Whatever you’re thinking at any given moment is of no consequence later on down that dirty road of life. Every purpose has the luxury of no meaning or dual meanings and defines everything we think we know. Every action is a redundant exercise of mindless repetition. We’re creatures of futile habits rewinding our shared histories and inventing new ones. Whether we participate in the farce or sit on the bench. A constant indigestion from the bullshit we must swallow daily. Taking our medicine with a grimace of the never-ending lies. We live to reach the finish line breathless and out of change for the meter of a life lived.

Humans are not well-made. We break and wear out after repeated use. We can’t be replaced, recharged, or refunded. Our expiration date is spinning on a wheel of misfortune. Some call it planned obsolescence of the body, mind, and spirit. Assuming we have souls is just as arrogant as thinking we are worthy because we have some semblance of intelligence. We can reason and justify our way through life’s illusions. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care but that’s also a lie. We try to make sense from the barrage of bombastic nonsense. Someone or something is taking a giant crap on our heads. We must wallow in the babbling brook of our respective mess. Just don’t shit where you make waves. Freedom of choice is having none. Our options outnumber our abundant lack of evidence. Should I wear the green shoes or the blue tie? Do I look like I’m having fun? This is just another tale told

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