Do I dare disturb the universe?

[perfectpullquote align=”full” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]Everyone gets everything he wants.
I wanted a mission. And for my
sins, they gave me one. Brought
it up to me like room service.;[/perfectpullquote]

If you’re into your war films, you’ll recognised that from the opening sequence of Apocalypse Now.  Martin Sheen, who plays Captain Benjamin L. Willard, A Special Forces officer, is in a hotel room in Saigon.  He’s been out of the jungle for a while and getting restless:

[perfectpullquote align=”full” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]When I was home after my first
tour, it was worse. I’d wake up
and there’d be nothing. I hardly
said a word to my wife until I
said yes to a divorce. When I was
here, I wanted to be there. When
I was there…all I could think of
was getting back into the jungle.
I’m here a week now. Waiting for
a mission. Getting softer. Every
minute I stay in this room, I get
weaker. And every minute Charlie
squats in the bush…he gets
stronger. Each time I looked
around…the walls moved in a little
tighter.[/perfectpullquote]

And that’s about where I am at right now – these walls are moving in a little tighter – If I don’t get a mission soon well…

And it has to one that’s challenging and unlike anything I’ve ever done before.  I maybe setting myself an impossible task. How can I find something that isn’t just a variation on an old theme? If the writers of Ecclesiastes are right then I am doomed:

What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.

Hell, it’s beginning to sound like I’m having a midlife crisis, but even that, I’ve done already.  Or is this a symptom of staring a half a century in the face and hearing that old Eternal Footman laughing loudly behind me and me knowing he’s laughing because I haven’t done a goddamn thing to disturb the universe yet? And I’m desperate too. Otherwise I am endanger of being Prufrock.  If I was honest with myself, I would go ahead and admit to you that I am Prufrock. But as I said last week on Twitter, we, as humans, have the terrible gift of being able to deceive ourselves most of all.

Excuse me, this domesticated primate has to go and make dinner now.

Listen to Mad Child and Evidence while I’m away…

And Shane’s going insane while basically in my prime
Can I rediscover my mind are we wasting each others time
I don’t cry I don’t look up at the sky and ask why
But sometimes I feel like I’m patiently waiting to die
Go thru the motions try to put the pen to paper with love
But I’m still holding back afraid of what I’m capable of…

OK. Back now.  How very routine of me.

Am I to seek and never see?  I had myself convinced at one point that my lot in life was to seek, that I was (am) a seeker seeking something I would never find nor wanted to find, seeking for seeking’s sake was (is) my fate.  But sometimes even pilgrims get tired.  And so I had to take a time out and rest but I’ve been resting too long which is what I think this about or  was I distracted?

Anyway enough about that, I’m back now. And I had the best news today.  One of my old-school blogging buddies has returned to the fray.  Shout out to Cathy, warrior-scientist and fellow New Jersey-ite… a Jersey Girl (although I’m not sure if she’d accept that title, but hey if Bruce Springsteen can be in love with a Jersey Girl, so can I.)

And here’s another draft poem for you:

I don’t remember touching her hand.
I don’t remember how I ended up
inside her waiting for the cigarette
to burn down. This is the way it all
ends. This is the way the world ends:

A frightened sob
A taste of regret
Fingernails in my palm

I only stopped by to say hello, we took
the book well beyond your silent song and
I learned, at last, my heart is dead.

I think I want to get a blogging logo made up, something to reflect the revolutionary, non-conformist, fuck the herd kind of attitude I have toward the current trend in blogging.

Viva la Blog

P.S.  Just as I typed those last words, the heavens open up.

P.P.S  I think I’ll power down now, read some Hunter S. Thompson and the sip whisky and watched the beginning of Apocalypse Now at least up until the two military policemen through CPT Willard into a cold shower to sober him up before shipping him out to the jungle.

Soundtrack:

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