Triadic Tales - Recovery - Short Story (Part Three)

Triadic Tales - Recovery - Short Story (Part Three)

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It's crazy. I have more power lying here, between death and, well. what? I have more power than I ever dreamed of having. These people seem to live by my every word. 

People around the world must learn my name. 

Here I am learning the ropes. But it is deceptive.

When it is just me staring at the ceiling in the dark, I see things clearly. These nice people are  playing me. They intend to kill me. Who am I trying to kid?

They think we did a massive wrong. They say they want to understand. But what's to understand?

 

We just did it. It was mean. But there was no more anger on the street than in the ring. Letting go. 

There was accomplishment. Making history. Going where no one had ever been.

Figure it out. They tell us to learn to think. Thinking gets you to look at a larger picture. When you do, you see the truth. We are either what we determine to be or we are nothing.

But now I see that's too easy.  I have hit the wall, I am a good actor. A great imitator. A pleaser. But I know exactly where this leads, And when it gets there, I lose. Not my life. Something worse.  

I see that I am actually one of them. We are all recovering. This was about a foolish fantasy and how things really are. 

God. 

And if it's that simple, how can I get out of this? 

I need to think some more.

I am recovering big time. And just now, I am the only one who knows what that means.  

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Triadic Tales - Recovery - Short Story (Part Two)

Triadic Tales - Recovery - Short Story (Part Two)
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I almost think he smiled at me. It chills me still. I don't know why I touched him. I guess I do. I couldn't believe he could do such a thing and I felt -- I don't know what I felt. 
Someone here is always watching. Security's intense. I am here because this is my job. 
The man sitting there doesn't move. The boy can't move. The whole thing is weird.
I am like that song. 
When I got married, young, and watched it all unravel, and ended up back home with two kids, I lost my religion.  Like the song. Except I was not in the spotlight. Until now. 
Will I go down in history as the nurse who attended him?  Will I have to explain?  Who knows? 
These days everything is  reality. 
Anyway, here is this boy they say is the devil incarnate, heaping language on him to separate him from them. And yes, he can charm the socks off anyone.
I think we could all be mass murderers underneath. And saints underneath. We have everything right here inside us. Meanness and violence. Reason and tenderness. Who's to judge? 
Can a nice person under the right circumstances become a mass murderer? Then go back to being nice? Like it never happened? 
What are the right circumstances for something like this? Is whatever it is understandable? There but for the grace of god, sort of? Why not?
I don't know.
All I know is when I reached out. it was not voluntary.
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I saw her.
She actually touched the son of a bitch. They must have seen it. I'll report it anyway.
Now we'll have to check her out. Does she know the guy? 
Jesus. I don't believe this. 
Here I am, redeemed from the purgatory of pushing paper out in Worcester. Moved in a nanosecond. Here. At the frigging epicenter.
I guess this is the kind of thing that juices reporters. Being there. 
Well right now, no one more there than me.
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Triadic Tales - Recovery - Short Story (Part One)

Triadic Tales - Recovery - Short Story (Part One)
I can see her. I can tell she is confused about me.  Everyone is I guess. I wouldn't care what she was. Religion kicks in and out. A chick is a chick. She's a good one.
I learned two things no one knows but me on the way here. How pissed off I was about my brother. And that martyrdom  is bullshit. If I ever have lots of chicks, it will be right here. It won't happen now. But if I did, it would not be in paradise. Paradise is just a big confusion now. 
I am getting stronger. They don't know how much stronger I am getting. The doctors do not communicate. They poke and dress and say does it hurt. I say nothing. It doesn't hurt as much as thinking about things.
I could end everything right here. I could. They do not know how strong I am. They have no idea how flexible. Shit. Flexible is right. 
I am smarter now than we were. We thought we were smart. Then not so much. It all tumbled to nothing.
But I won my freedom. Now I see things they will never see.
Maybe she'll come back. I have to be careful. I cannot show feeling. Desire. I cannot do anything. Not good.
Lying in the dark yesterday I thought I would die. But it was obvious I wanted to give myself whatever life I could get.
We never named what we did. We did not think about it much. Doing it was the whole thing. 
I knew when I gunned the car what I really believed. I believed I was doing justice. My justice. The justice he deserved. And I knew it would not help me.  But it was worth it.
There she is. I can see without looking. She is coming closer. What's this? She reaches and touches my face. Gentle. Soft. I pretend not to notice. It takes than a second.
This may be the only good thing I will remember.  I will recover. I will never be freer than I was last night.    
I wish I still believed in Paradise.
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Recovery depends on creating something people want

Ezra Klein: We've Stabilized Into Crisis - The Daily Beast

Let's see what could that be

A cheaper way to live as in less expensive housing

A cheaper way to learn and get accreditation as in less expensive education

A cheaper way to travel as in better mass transportation and less fuel gobbling modes

More face to face community but in a more secure environment than now exists

Less obfuscation generally in all areas

There's a starting list

And all of these can be addressed by thinking cyber instead of the culture we insist can recover which is oil sprawl

And ultimately cyber will be the basis for new face to face secure cyber communities that cut the cost of living in half and increase the meaning and enjoyment of living by at least that much

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The improvement of society is where recovery lies

Wall St slide continues; Dow plunges 400 points - CBS News

It is not just infrastructure that needs a makeover

It is our society itself

The exciting sign that is the sign of our times is not depression

It is rebirth

Rebirth of a society built less on consumption and glitz and more on the simple and enduring things

A society beyond the constrictions of drugs and the vapidity of the nuclear family

A society with more walking and less driving

A society with more and more varied local businesses and services

With more concentration of population

With more attention to public amenities

With design that stops treating people as objects and things

The recovery must be society's recovery

Does anyone see that

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In case you wonder about the Asian recovery

Crisis And Recovery In East Asia | ThinkProgress: "Lately I’ve been revisiting the 1997 Asian financial crisis, and something I find striking is the extent to which the hardest-hit countries all did come roaring back."

One of these counties could become the world leader if it gave up the oil-sprawl-car pattern for something entirely new. As long as the world cleaves to that pattern, the prospects are dim indeed.


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The dismal end of built-in obsolescence

Irony on irony. The talk of recovery. What is lost will not be recovered. And that is a happy thing. When I was a teen we talked about built-in obsolescence as something new. An era of craft had petered out and was succeeded by mass produced products that were destined to need replacement, so we were told. Now I see the shoppers in Macy's and wonder if i am wrong. I don't think so. The figures back me up. Everything points to the fact that we are not spending money because we no longer want a new model every year, a new fashion every season, a new generation of product every year. This means that we are miles ahead of the business schools. We will spearhead the sunset of the corporate world with its no-liability perks and its affluent exploit class. Within five years the talk of big bonuses will have receded. We may even be beyond the market as we know it. The economy of the future will value human beings not as corpses to be manipulated from birth to death but as thinking, free souls who want to learn what their freedom means in daily practice. Corporations have little investment even in recognizing freedom. It makes their research iffy. But we knew the recovery was phony from the beginning. Do not blame anyone but us. We stopped buying. Congratulations to us. We are waiting for the world to catch up. Congratulations again. And we will prevail.
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