Sunday, August 31, 2014


FAILURE--about which I know a thing or two--remains partially mysterious (though also, partly obvious) to me. I get much about it. I see the incomplete gesture or inadvertent pass on an opportunity; I hear the social miscues and cross talk that result in simultaneous soliloquies rather than conversation between would-have-been long-term collaborators; I hear the fear-driven insistence on entitlements as yet undeserved (wince) and the compulsive (and utterly empty) one up-manship between colleagues. I see the hesitance to stick with a choice--a choice, ONE, rather than spread one's self too thinly. I see sociopathology in too many of those with whom one needs to 'get along' in order to' succeed.' I see the luck involved, the good and bad.

I certainly see the eventual collapse into self that may be the most efficient means of changing the rules of the game, when it comes to that. I also see how choosing insanity may be the best ultimate fallback solution to one's perceived failure: call it the 'Brazil Stratagem,' after Terry Gilliam's brilliantly 'failed' film. Damn, man, at some point.. one just stops... HOLDING ON to the rules (or finds a way to evade the introjects that enforce them), the rules that dictate how others perceive us, and how we perceive ourselves.

I also see that "success" and "failure" are inane and artificial categories to worry about for even an instance.

This, my friend, is what we mean by "ghosts." Little lambent echoes of the past that aren't real but sometimes reverberate in the stillness of a blue mood.

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