Such Is Life

Yesterday I went to find Sam to give him some cigarettes, and what I found was a group of people sitting around him getting high. I think if I was homeles, I’d want to get high, too, and I am glad that someone gave him some shit, but what interested me is that I started talking religion and politics with the most interesting man. We were talking about things from Muncie’s past, like the Mystic Groovies (a weird little shop that sold all sorts of crazy things-and a band, too), Repeat Performance (a used record store), and some other little shops, run by hippies, that aren’t here anymore. I wonder if he remember’s Dame Leo’s.

My point is: you never know when you are going to find someone who surprises you. Probably the most interesting topic in our two hour long discussion was that of Carlos Castaneda. We talked about him with respect to so many things, mostly that he was brilliant but common. We talked about energies, magic, shamanism, Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, and all sorts of amazing things. We even talked about religion and Jesus and being “Saved.” It made me feel like I was back in high school talking with Jaymes, Johnny, Chet, Merideth, and Rodney about life, drugs, love or sex, and happiness. Mostly, we talked about how the world tries to keep us from being happy. The main premise of capitalism is that we will never be satisfied with what we have; we will always have to go buy one more thing to make us happy. All we really need or really want, according to my new found friend is a vision quest that leads us toward our goal of self. I am not sure I buy it, but it makes life much simpler. He was probably one of the most relaxed, at ease people I have ever met. I have nothing else, but to say that I am reaching that place, the one where I don’t care what other people have, where I want to seek for the greater good, where I don’t care about keeping up with the Joneses, and where I am content to be.

We don’t always have to be productive. Sometimes doing things just to do them is an excellent feeling—and excellent feeling that feels better a little fucked up, no doubt. Productivity be damned!

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