The Pavement Grey

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart's core.

W.B. Yeats

The fact that I have not written anything in this blog for 2 months is no accident; it is the logical extension of self-expression – where self-expression is selfish expressionism. One-hit wonders are no accident either; similarly, someone had something to say and they said it. And that was all they had to say.

The people who always have something to say – the columnist and pundits and commentators – usually don’t have anything significant to say. They find some hook to exploit – some faddish prejudice or scandal the public is obsessed with – and they repeat it over and over using different word combinations so as not to appear repetitive.

I find something to say every day, but it is usually just griping and whining about the same old things as they are expressed in the behavior of public and private figures. The greed, corruption, power grabbing, duplicity, mendacity, sociopathy, ignorance, stupidity, and evil of our species is played out on the world stage constantly.

The spirit-destroying aspect of aging is that you have lived through enough events to have a perspective on humanity; and, what you see is not originality, or evolution, or moral development. What you see is the same human behavior expressed thousands of years ago expressed in the context of the present.

When one finally sees past the proselytizing rhetoric of religion and politics and conspicuous selflessness – to the core of intentions and the real objectives…this is the end of hope. You may say that this kind of pessimism is unwarranted in the face of so much good and so many good people.

Unfortunately, they are the exceptions – and rare. And, you might think that with this kind of outlook I must be tragically unhappy. Oh no; I feel fine. I still appreciate the beauty of our planet and the splendor of this miracle we call life. Our presence in this cold, forbidding universe is quite beyond comprehension.

I like eating, drinking, fornicating, the pleasure of observing my fellow creatures, the euphoria of drinking and any substances that happen my way which accomplish the same end. Good movies express and explore the emotions that differentiate us from inanimate objects, beasts, and the psychopaths who run for political office. I love the feelings that a sentient being can experience.

Knowing what we are without sugar coated homilies and fabricating postures is illuminating and cleansing. I observe those around me who search for grand mysteries behind which to hide the truth and the true reality with sympathy. The Pavement Grey leads everywhere and nowhere, and that is the riddle which defines us.