Are we making sense yet?

In Absurdlandia, dreams, Hautvoir, Local projects on May 30, 2016 at 6:58 am

Some dismiss you as a fat, but harmless, old fool. Some dismiss you for no reason. Some don’t like you. Some like you for reasons to which you don’t relate. Some you like who don’t like you. Sometimes, there’s not much that makes sense and the disconnects leave you wondering if you landed on your head at an early age and everyone’s been too embarrassed  to tell you.

Making sense? Long stretches don’t. The million-copies-sold crowd get it right. Somehow, they figure out not many lives make sense, therefore, give the folks something that adds up. Ah-ha. For five hundred blessed pages, the readers let the pilot take them safely through all kinds of mayhem, on to the words The End. You’re in good hands with celebrated writer X, Y or Z. Fasten your seatbelt, suspend your disbelief, nobody will get hurt for real, no matter how realistic (or fantastical) the tale.

The week looms. I feel like an idiot who boarded the wrong train, and only discovers this when all the money’s gone and no one aboard speaks a language even remotely familiar. Some Monday mornings are less appealing than others.

So. Gather what wits I have about me. Deal with yet another bus ride to la préfecture in Albi with a man who still hasn’t mastered French after three years in the country. Nothing adds up except well-kept account books i.e.  math and straight lines drawn with a ruler. I flunked math a long time ago, and no matter what any of The Books say, being a human is one hell of a crazy ride with no promised land where the train tracks leave off for no reason.

Monday morning blues? Let’s call them that. Onward and so on, of course. Bounce along. Pretend you’re the boulder rolling downhill, and not the one who will have to roll it uphill again. Inertia to the point of complete standstill. Enjoy the standstill while it lasts. Pretend you enjoy absurdity in all its manifestations – who knows, you might even convince yourself you do. Those long periods of waiting in parking lots, for instance,  while others drift from one thing to the next, and before you know it, there’s another day gone in absurdlandia. Absurdlandia rules.




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