Lately I have been phasing in and out of charmed-out relaxed social situations not really caring to how I arrived or how quickly I would disappear again. Sometimes I will sit up and find myself in a comfy chair in one of those apartments with a kitchen entrance, other times it’s the corner of a sopping oak pub as my face gleams through the light projection of a nearby tv, sometime I even pry my eyes open and I am in shotgun with my legs bulked around me with my arm torching a cigarette out the window. Usually when I come out of this ‘re-materialisation” I check to see if my clothes are still pretty fly out of constant mechanical observation- often I am only satisfied.

Its always a more comforting satisfaction that you at least managed to get one thing right and as basic as putting a pair of pants its better to be dress for the occasion. The rest will all fall into place if you can master your poker face.

When you drift you must learn how to take grab of reality when it hits you. It’s your shame you live with it but the trick is managing the times in and out of reality. This is best learned playing those old “sitback” board games, dominos, go, chess… sit back and let them make their move and then play the game of “how fast can you take your time”.

DIAL UP

It’s only slight observations. When your so saturated with the constant steam of observing that you begin reaching that level of absolute communication absorption- you start replacing your veins with fiberoptic cables, your thoughts are projected at lighting speed and confusion hits your brain when 80 Million connections try to hammer you all at once for that information.

The drag of disconnection its frightful for anyone who’s been “plugged in”. Communication is worse like any abused drug on the market and their packs of sick white-faced DS are highly recognizable. The effects on the core are electrifying- like unplugging a TV that is still on. The tubes fire out and nothing is further transmitted and the box sits and waits- slightly humming as the serge of electrons leaves its shell.

I recently was plugged back in, only I have issues getting a proper steady download stream. Searching out the right channels….

SEPTEMBER 25

I spent most of the day puzzling over this muffin of a riddle to the point where I took a break 10 hours into its hacking thinking “fuck it”. I read the copies from others who were working the same hours as myself, noted I was at least 20 steps ahead of them and then tipped my hat down and lit up a cigarette. If you work too long or too hard on anything you start to see a connection everywhere in desperation of finishing the task. You also go thru too many cigarettes on matters silly and jejune as video games.



THE EVER NOTED PUNCHLINE THAT NEVER CAME……….?

She rolls over on the bed kicking out 2 spined paperback novels and grabs the alarm with her right hand. Still 2 hours before the alarm goes off. She sits up and pulls the covers over her and reaches between the sheets desperately paws for “that book- just the right book” and snaps the pulp to her nose so quick that the pages flake inches from her nose. With one long sigh she clenches her fists, tilts her neck back and slumps back down letting the book hold her.

It smells… brown copy stiff, a 1982 yellow acid swarming, dizzying, the owner was late that afternoon walking back to the office from the corner coffee shop because it was raining and the smoke from the nearby street stained the creases in the cover. Everything is bleeding colour through its must and dust towards a different time, maybe passages are underlined in pencil, a smudge from a phone number written in the back.

Here eyes poke open and glance through the triangle of light before her. She is thinking. She is thinking about “ah yes, this again” and doesn’t change the look on her face. It all soon falls into a pattern and soon days are delegated, assigned and a system is worked out. Everything works out to pace and the only fear is boredom since it usually leads to disinterest.

“What do they want me to do, hold a ticker-tape parade?” she scoffs.

The cat jumps on the bed and knocks the book off her face.

“Alright, you too,” she says and gets out of bed.



 

The Empty Hand
By Ann Kornuta

Everywhere you look it seems as if a new charitable organisation is starting up, community driven programs are rolling out and everything is having their own “insert special event to raise funds here” day. What it all comes down to is the ever-open hand of charity is on the increase in this small community and there is not enough money to go around.
For example, I myself volunteer my marketing experience for several different organisations in the community. Part of my job is to go around and seek out charitable donations and advertising support from local businesses and citizens. It used to be a very easy job until the doors started closing in on me this month when I was out doing my regular canvassing.

“I am sorry,” the store merchants would tell me. “We already have exceeded our donation revenue for this year.”

This never comes as a shock for the first few places I go when seeking out community support. They tell you for every 10 doors you knock on you will only get one person of support. It was not until the 20th visit to my list of past supporting businesses that I started to feel I was stuck on a looping broken record.

“I am sorry,” the store merchants would tell me. “We already had two people in today asking for donations and we can’t give any more.”

I discovered that on average a small business owner in Milton could get one to two different organizations asking for charitable donations a day in the month of September. If I were to keep asking every month for one year, what would the weekly average be for people asking for support? At any rate, this meant that I was getting no donations for any of the reputable organisations I was volunteering for and I needed to switch my donation plan in order to meet my regular quota.

I wonder how this makes the small business owner feel when every day someone is holding their hand out for money, support and recognition. From what I discover from the local merchants when I talk with them is the sudden increase of hand-outs for community driven charities in this past year. I assume it’s the sudden impact of growth on the community itself- more and more people are moving here who are getting involved, pro active and are dedicated to making a difference only to clash out with the number of small business that make up the larger side of donations and support for these local groups.

In other words, the camels have sucked the lake dry.

Still, it baffles me to how many local groups survive year after year on community support and donations- hand outs, if you want to call it. We should all take in account to be good neighbours and offer our assistance when we can but when everyone is asking how do you choose?

I haven’t given up yet on my community programs, though the road a head of me looks rough. It will just mean I will have to devise craftier ideas to get the community to support their local programs.