Episodes in the Smoke-Filled Coffee Shop

I met the Old Man Today.

Hi.

I am tired of being crazy.

Well, what do you want to do about it?

I don't know. What is there to do?

You could settle.
You could give up.
Or you could live in between, and keep talking.

Do the words stop on either side of the between?

I'm not sure. I never had any words, and I wasn't in the between too long.

Why do I want the not-between if it means the end of the words?

Why do you want anything? You know it is pointless to begin with, but it hasn't stopped you. You still saunter in here to irritate me, don't you? You still go out with those idiot friends of yours. You still try. Maybe you are a coward. Or, maybe you want to try so bad you are afraid to.

Maybe. Why do I talk to you, anyway? Your a stupid old man who sits in a coffee shop all day.

With that, he went back to his crossword puzzle. With that, I went for a walk.

I met an old, new friend today; one that I had walked with in lives past, but one whom I have lost contact with since both of us have made and re-made ourselves time and time again. We used to talk about grown-up things in adolescent terms. We used to ruminate on life's meaning through telephone calls, and walks in the park. She's tall, and ginger, with a smile that doesn't sparkle with a naive, irritating optimism, but instead radiates a hard-fought, battled hope for good things to come. Her hair always flows down over hear ears and down her shoulders. Her slender frame seems to wiggle as she walks. Like before, her gait is anything but straightforward.

She helped me today. She helped me understand the impossibility and the hurt. But, she also explained why it is so hard to give up on finding--on discovering--or more accurately, on experiencing something that doesn't fit the definition of an experience.

"Of course you look for it there, why wouldn't you?"

"I don't know, to most people it seems like a thing you do; like an activity everyone loves--like recreation."

"Don't you think that's sad? I'm not one to sermonize on sanctity and holiness. It isn't what I am after. But, what happens when we stop looking for the meaning of life--or at least one of its more important meanings--in the act that leads to its miracle? What happens when we no longer look for miracles in the places and spaces where the one event--or at least one of the two--takes place? Doesn't it make sense that making sense of existence might happen in the place where life is given its seemingly miraculous possibility?"

"I guess. I don't know. You are starting to sound like a True Love Waits campaign."

"I'm just saying. When we stop looking for miracles--for non-experiences--and settle for recreation, there is a natural digression."

"But, it leads nowhere."

"Sure. But it is always more about the economy of desire in which you are participating than anything you ever accomplish."

"It feels impossible."

"It should."

"How do I let go, then?"

"I don't know."

"Okay."

Hey you, tell me the secret. Come on, please! I want to know.

Okay, okay, I understand--the secret is hidden--it is a secret you know is there, but one you can't unlock. How can there be a secret inside you that you don't know the path to? How can there be a space--an inner--within--that you don't know how to access?

I know, I know--we have been through this before.

But, you need to know, I will try to get there--even if you have never been there yourself. I know it seems a bit odd--me, trying to get to a place within you that you have never been. But, that is the secret, isn't it? That is the mystery, no?

How? You know how? And, you want how? Overwhelming. Overcoming. Too much. Too much to handle--I know. I will overwhelm you. I will violate you. I will push you, enter you, touch you, feel you, and make you turn inside out in a way that brings you to an edge where meeting yourself means leaving yourself. Have you been there? Well, it is tome to go. It is time for us to try to see how far we can go into that far country.

Are you ready? Ready to enter a place where being yourself means not being a self? It is time for you to go beyond through going through and in. I want to lead you to a place neither of us knows how to get to through your surface--your inner sense--the pathway and map of desire.

I love you. I do. I wouldn't want to go there if I didn't. I just wish I could take you beyond--beyond you--to a place where you truly exists--a place of nothing and everything, a place of nowhere and everywhere, a place of ex-stasy that entails standing beside yourself in an unbearable temporal eternity.

I love you, I really do. I wish I could take you to this mythic place. We could try. I want to try. But, to arrive--to move past trying to accomplishing--means moving from sensing to death. It means going from ex-stasy to nihil.

I love you, I really do. Thanks for trying. Thanks for desring the same nihil--the same void.

I love you.

Hello, would you like to dance? No, please don't speak. Don't say no, or yes, for that matter. Just shake or nod or something. Give me a sign--something that will indicate yes or no. But, please don't speak.

No, there is no time for names. I don't want to call you. I don't want to be called by you. Please, just dance with me. Please, just move with me. No names. No speaking. Speaking means trying to make sense of this--of you and me, next to each other, and the desire between us. I don't want any of that.

No, no, I mean the meaning--not the desire. The desire is why I am here. The desire is why you are here too. The desire is why both of us--neither of us--is the One. Desire means we are the not-One who has to try. Try what? Try to be themself--their-self.

Come on, lets dance. No words. No names. No meaning.

Only bodies. Only breath. Only movement. No thinking. No trying. Nothing more than sweat, movement, and thoughtlessness.

What do you say?

Come on you, lets dance.