I was recognized. I’m not used to being in the public sphere. I’m not trained to be identified with anyone around me. I generally float through my days existing as who I am. I suppose over a long enough period of time, it was bound to happen.
I went out this evening for a triple shot espresso over short ice.
The traffic was embarrassing. I was wearing this new tweed red cap. Real short brim, looks almost like an over sized kippah. My long brown hair tied and tucked, eyes sharp like electrical boxes. The rain doesn’t bother my skin for an inch.
After the esp. I hit the Spoke quick for a dip, bar top packed. Friday nights were an excellent time to sit with strangers. As the days pass, so do their eyes over my infinite questions. I want to talk to everyone.
How are you?
What have you found, what was your day like?
Where are you going? What is most important to you?
It’s all fine and well when I’m drifting about. But then he turns, and says
“Fisher?” I have absolutely no idea who this guy is. The perspective changed, I focused and smiled.
“yeahh!” I lulled in a convincing enthusiasm. The interaction turned into a state of mind where the hunter was both the hunted and the prey. The victim was the patron. Thine truth was thy bottom feeder!
Don’t look at me.
Don’t hold my space if you don’t love the long con. There is always banter that I am willing to indulge with strangers. But this was a one sided arrangement man, he had the jump on me. He wanted to mutter, and I wanted to watch the water, I wanted to shout.
Keep pictures of horses in your eyes!
Hold up your hands in the air and weep for the decadence that you’re afraid to hold on to.
How do you know what you are? Where do you fight from? What is the burning question that you want to ask yourself!?
I looked around while he talked. I’m interested in the science of change. I’m interested in the reality of this life. The true self, the true heart, the one we don’t control.
Take your heart and give it to those around you. Take your heart and give it to the stranger!
I’ll challenge the way you think you know me.
I will read you a poem that describes the things you don’t know about yourself.
I want to hold up pictures of your heart and place them in the microwave of your beauty. The turn table of time spins black wax, the time table of life is held upon our back – thine riddles continue.
I dunno, the night carried on well enough. Dude told me, that he and I met at a bar last week. Guess we got to talking about space, and government spending. He was a weird dude, but it was chill.