Appetite for Distraction – Another Day.

He wakes up. He farts himself awake. A long low rumble like a motorcycle in need of repair. He falls back to sleep. He wakes himself up again with his unhappy bowel. He makes a coffee and drinks a coffee and eats some toast and honey and he reads a depressing paper about the illusion of democracy in America – it is an oligarcy, a plutocracy, a kyriarchy. It is not the lush open grassland of opportunity that the myths would have everyone believe. It is not the tourist experience of snapping pictures and pointing at natives and eating new food and drinking specially prepared psycadelic medicines. It is the grey grinding gears of the every day drudge the mulched down foundation of the power elite. He eats a banana. He eats a sandwich with meat and cheese and mustard and spinach. He drinks a French vanilla coffee. He can never tell the difference between French vanilla and plain vanilla. He is probably uncouth. He doesn’t care. He wonders whether he should wear guy-liner. He will come to a conclusion some time later in the year. His inner thigh aches. The sharp pain is just out of the reach of his fingers. He cannot position himself in the chair in order to stop feeling the pain. He stands up and the pain disappears but then a new pain appears in his left shoulder. It is dull and constant until he sits down again at which time the sharp pain returns. Then it disappears fading like a scream on a moving train. He watches an incredible film called The House I Live In. He has to take breaks for crying. He plays Hearthstone a game on the computer that uses digital cards. He is regressing. He reads The Racial Contract. He takes some photographs. He does some monochrome oil painting. He does not do any laundry. He should do some laundry. His left knee starts to hurt. He itches his right eye for a while. He takes a nap. He watches a talk by Eugene Jarecki and Chris Hedges. It is at the same time bleak and hopeful. Perhaps the prison-industrial complex the pharmaceutical-industrial complex the military-industrial complex the [insert business here]-industrial complex will be dissolved to form a more amenable society and the poor won’t be warehoused because they are no longer of any use to the 400 people who own the same amount of wealth in America as the bottom 150 million. When you are calling the bottom 150 million the bottom, he thinks, then you really have a problem with how you are defining your terms. He lies down in bed hoping that he will be able to sleep.

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The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

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