contradiction antagonistic contradiction
is the violence in the system
is the great conflict that kills people, that people fall in the middle of and starve to death
that is contradiction
there is a great contradiction among us
inside of us
inside of society
where 20000 people starve to death every day where the cops murder people where imperialists prop up dictators who brutalize the third world that is where the contradiction is today and liberals accept it there.
it is a question of moving this contradiction along, moving it along or through
we can roll it out, we roll it out painfully like a gallstone out of us,
but it’s in there, and it’s a question only of pushing it out or leaving it.
they accept the contradiction existing right where it is
they are waiting, and for what? they are content to not push any direction, and to try to wait it out while every hour the contradiction kills thousands.
i am advocating something that will send the contradiction our way. the contradiction has not been near us—near the white liberals I grew up around, at least. but it does destroy us even being part of the body that contains it. it does corrode us just condoning it. and so we have no choice, it exists. there is no choice of no contradiction—the choice is only, do we resolve the contradiction.
Gosh, when I drink I fill with longing, but right now my longing does not feel so long, it doesn’t feel such a heavy distance and a cold time off–the feeling feels close and quick. It’s this idea.. an idea of the internet. Ambient communication. It’s this idea that at least someone somewhere somehow, meeting eyes, a perfect moment, the moment after moving my eyes to theirs, the moment when I really focus on their eyes, the moment when I see them wanting to see me seeing me wanting to see them seeing them see me see them wanting to see me seeing me want to see them seeing them, the moment the mirrors swing perfectly across from each other and you get a good look and there is nothing but the love behind the pupil staring at the love behind the pupil. And it’s this idea that here I am looking at them when I post this, and they see me and they have that moment of looking across time, looking across the mirrors, they see the wrinkles and texture of my face in the contour of my words. Because we can’t see the love behind the pupil without seeing the muscles and texture of the face. We can’t see the love that is loving us without seeing the stuff that does not see, the stuff the love behind the pupil uses to try to show what it is despite not having a shape.
And it’s me imagining it now, getting a moment of the love seeing the love seeing the love, and it’s an idea that there’s a resonance going out into the world, a particle gets charged 200 days from now, 600 days from now, some particle gets magnetized and spins around and then 100 days later, 300 days later, a particle in me is magnetized and spins around, and then
When we see the love that has no body but has a shape in the mind behind the pupil twist the only mouth it will ever feel belongs to it into a smile, if I am the mouth, if I am the beret and skirt I wish I could look cute in.
I never knew what I was selling to try to be so older-and-wiser and therefore respected so quickly. It was the ability to be nimble, to be ever green, to be an eddie with overflowing energy without any visible imperfections, to be a shine and a laugh in one. To be so easily seen as that, and have the doing of that be all I feel and have the whole of what someone sees be only that if only for a half second. I couldn’t find anyone looking for that in young males in Umatilla, though, or I feel like I don’t remember anyone who perked up when that came near the surface in me, though really, I maybe did not have so keen of eyes to notice when I was being noticed just yet. Or maybe back then I just didn’t want it. Or maybe I was always getting looked at sort of like that and now that I’m not quite I miss it. I don’t really know.