I salute the day by removing the trousers of a nation

Topics: work, change, death, transition, trauma, destiny, apathy

2013-12-10

I have arrived to my lonely but satisfactory hotel room from the *atrium*. It's more of a dining room than *atrium*, really, but it serves both purposes, so I shall continue to call it *atrium*. In the *atrium* were victuals. I took them in my furry paws and ravenously filled my gaping maw. It was, also, satisfactory. I now sip a glass of red wine.

The pain in my chest has receded. I only thought about possibilities briefly before falling asleep last night. Surely, I could have died yesterday. The vehicle slammed into the *jersey barrier* at approximately 45 mph. My parents tell me again and again that I should thank the **Lord** for my survival, for my health, for my lack of mangled limbs. I thank the seat belt and air bag, instead. Yes, very mundane and unspiritual of me. Ah well. I am a *cunt*.

Furthermore, such experiences are what I've read as *life changing events*. I feel very little has changed besides the fact that I cannot propel myself around in a large blunt object. Perhaps the whole *life flashing before one's eyes* and such is a media-made spectacle. Or pseudo-spectacle. Or spectacle-to-be. Something of the sort. I am calm. There is no need to panic.

The sense of displacement has also receded. My life is simply within another transition. My whole life is a transition. Well, I am living within a transition between transitions, then. A meta-transition. Soon (I use that term loosely), I'll be again in *Seminole*, where I shall resume routines that always entrench me whilst there. I don't mind. They spawn creativity. It is a phase of narrow transition. I say **narrow** because the path of the transition is quite one-dimensional. When one has routines, and usually strict ones, then this is the case. Again, I don't mind. It is, after all, only a transition.

The next transition, one which is more wide and more full of the unknown, comes afterwards.

I chatted with Christian briefly on google+, outlining my experiences over the last two days. The conclusion was this:

> (08:11:34 PM) inhortte: I bought two jars of fresh honey in

nashville.

> (08:11:40 PM) inhortte: They were in the passengers' seat.

> (08:11:46 PM) inhortte: They survived unscathed.

> (08:12:18 PM) christián neumann: hahaha

> (08:12:28 PM) christián neumann: this will make it into your novel for sure

> (08:12:34 PM) inhortte: Yes.

> (08:12:48 PM) inhortte: Though I omitted the honey from my journal entry.

> (08:12:53 PM) inhortte: I'll put them in the next ones.

> (08:13:02 PM) inhortte: The fraternal twins that survived.

> (08:13:03 PM) christián neumann: you should not leave this detail out!

> (08:13:15 PM) christián neumann: as it was your only reason for retuning to theusfuckinga

> (08:13:23 PM) inhortte: yes!

> (08:13:28 PM) inhortte: This moment!

> (08:13:32 PM) inhortte: It was the reason.

> (08:13:34 PM) inhortte: I like it.

> (08:13:42 PM) christián neumann: of courrrrrrse

> (08:15:18 PM) christián neumann: + the event, + the twin honey...

tzifur (Martenblog home)

jenju (Thurk.Org home)

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