First Class on the Locked Out Tour

Published on 25 February 2024 at 23:47

It's funny when those things reach out to other people - the experience you might be having, applied.

A tap on the shoulder from your mind to theirs,  and they are a part of what you're bringing forward. Too bad, about the riff raff, but we're "not dead yet". The year started in the middle of the night in the Cafe - one of the LOCATIONS for TRANSFERENCE - and we got a quote going real good. I'm doing what I can to make use of these demonstrations, keep these people and Events in mind, they beg not to be forgotten, anyway:

The last time this guy was here he promised me he was having a stroke and needed medical assistance desperately. He overtipped me in the amount of the entire bill and then was taken away in an ambulance. I had not seen him since, and in view of this present moment where he seemed to be in no changed condition, and including my coworker's comment "it might be rude" to bring up that last encounter, I thought we should just start on fresh terms. He mentioned some quips to me about how he likes this place because there is never any riff raff, "a class joint", I served him and then about my whole shift seemed to go by while he was deeply snoozing into the 31st of December. I am happy to accommodate the napping, but about 15-20 Albanian and Irish Americans were doing impressions and clanking draft beers and shoving tables together because they were in a good time. 

When things were winding down, my prophetic guest woke from his slumber to the bill on his table. We closed up and I laughed about him sleeping through the rumbling and raucousness of the evening. His replies were that it's a shame, then he tells me about the grand view of the terrain, "If you read anywhere in the world, it wasn't really a sterling year"... No I suppose not, "But I don't like to say Happy New Year", "I prefer: To better times, here's to us all". 

"To better times", I repeat, he repeats, "here's to us" "Here's to us all".

 

Clocking out of February and I am always so sad to say goodbye to the beginnings of the year. God there is nothing like it!!! Oh my God!! Obviously and I was just doing the work of thousands of people to try and wrangle the weeds of my mind - transposed into computer - THE images. Knee deep in the gorgeousness of life, I really hope it's not too misleading to say so, but the connective forms that surround us in a purely visual sense are deeply stimulating, and Impressive, I am certainly unbored by the circumstances in which we live - the living backdrop. And I think I make that very obvious, that I am having this reaction. I concede that every coupling of months and their respective seasons boasts unique joys and sorrows which transform us year after year, and even that I possibly am in love with every emergent combination of connecting belfries and spyres, but something about January and February has historically done nothing but favors for my life. 

In fact if it's not too much to admit that I spend all my time retracing my own steps, I am publicly so amazed by the consistency in what I am drawn to and specifically the times when I am drawn. I seem to do the same things and have similar experiences at the same times, year after year, which seeks to confirm in my world-view what a home we can make within Time, which is a Space.

 

I keep screwing up ordering my coffee at the cafe that's near where I live, while everyone there is still getting used to this gift for the locals. I keep saying I want a cappuccino with two shots but served in a small cup. What would be easier is if I said I would take a small cappuccino with an extra shot. It's just that I forget they even permit different sizes for cappuccinos. If I just order a cappuccino extra shot they will put it into a larger cup. Then today he says,  "There's almost no room for milk in here!". And I say good I really just don't want a lot of milk! In the cafe, which is the only thing I have left in terms of "A place to turn to" in sheer darkness, the non city people are coming from school and church and family gatherings, I just like them better than what I see within the city-center. But what A risk to even say that, because I live in a county with a population of maybe 1.5 Million people, constituting something of a city all its own. At least, without all the youth-culture. 

No, the people here are different than they are 20 miles away. I did everything I could here and that's how the Locked Out Tour got along. It has something to do with our innate understanding and perspective that makes us enjoy the story of smaller dolls. We like to look out and see a tiny world taking on its businesses as we do our own, but they are cuter and more cultured, and mischievous, and even favoured.

 

The way that I have experienced before in my life, FINDING something that is DEAR. And retaining an attitude which is NON DESCRIPT, so that SPECIFICITY does not DERAIL us from understanding a GENERAL PRINCIPLE, all forms of DEARNESS exist beneath the umbrella of TREASURE. 

HUMAN TREASURE is a wonderful thing about how we function, oh my, that familiar sensation when the eye catches any glint on the floors, or the sound of metal clinking into the road, give the impression of there being something worthy to discover. We remark HOW WELL TRAINED because something discarded, misplaced, left behind, left in the open, presented in full view, once delighted us in the past. So that I have BECOME AWARE of the EXPERIENCE OF FINDING SOMETHING WORTH HAVING. 

 

Unrelatedly, Another of my dear friends of prophecy translated for me one of our realistic myths daily inhabited, the one about the gurus which contact women world-wide. Essentially each night all the women is brainwashed to a disposition that is unlike her own, "and it is not the mother in law", but an extra-human creature, maybe even a demi-god, which possesses women and make it so that its difficult to keep track of being a woman. Then they convince themselves of the inadequacies of life and their appearance - which is the champion aspect in real life - and they start undoing all over again their ability to reach themselves as they once were.

 

The METAL DETECTING ABILITY which we proposed - finding luck, fortune, beauty, wealth, promise, new ground, or whatever else we deem worthy, should be transformed into other territories where at first we did not even see the possibility of things to be FOUND. Indeed, it is all an ATTITUDE, WITH rewards, and ABOUT rewards, that draws the attention of one to the things we start to precipitate feelings of discovery. And discernment can be applied, because at occasions it has happened -  there were guilded surprises, of a wasting and impure quality, a rot infects the lot, mistakes, where at other occasions, well... those were purely fantastical; mesmerizing, course-changing, awakening gifts to be remembered for the rest of life and beyond. 

 

But I accidentally wrote an essay at the start of the week, concerning the delineation of Post-Soviet circumstances through the Post-Colonial moniker and metrics, as far as the school of post-colonialism intends to be a method in analyzing as well as critiquing history and culture. Some guy, I'll explain it another time, but basically he feels that the study of post colonialism does not sufficiently incorporate what is considered post-soviet. And the more frequently I say this you wonder why it could have ever been offered in a classroom, along with so much else, without being met with clamoring protest. Post just means After, you know, we can all go on to make something out of nothing - but then again, that's precisely what I am here to do. 

 

March - a place for a carnival act featuring a serpent, and invoking the ire of, one furrowed brow. 

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