Mongrelized nature confusing, especially with
broken connections galore from dysfunction leaving one floating alone in this
Earth space. I tend to sit at night and write words to nobody because that’s
what I’ve always done – it’s always been me by myself it feels like, even
though I share blood in direct sense with small group of people but in larger
sense with everybody. So many divisions wedged into every fissure of the brain,
denying simple fucking heart truth that people is people.
Without human connection to really offer solid
support, the one thing that grounds me is the ground – the area I’ve known all
my life, because it feels more familiar (as in family) than anything else, and
I was unsettled to leave the land I’d known the past 20 years, but at the same
time all these little slivers and parcels ain’t really ever owned in any sense,
and I can find that same feeling with land of similar make-up throughout this
area.
Mestizo, mongrel, mulatto, mutt – a small army of
M-words to cover the natural fact that any ideas of purity of human origins is
more than likely not true, and we are all the sum product of each other. None
of us is pure in racial sense, and yet there’s purity in that. I’ve been
feeling very disconnected from my classification, but also understand the
system works through classification so it saves me hassle in many steps along
my days. There is a grid of thinking that’s been applied to the natural world
that doesn’t match the natural world’s ways, so likely that’s why I find
walking the land grounding. It doesn’t have to be woods land or along the river
– railroad tracks through town or rippling city sidewalks with weed resistance
in every crack make just as much sense. Saying “hey man” to familiar faces with
unknown lives on the bus does that. Lot of times it feels like we’re
disconnected by design, but the grid and classification applied over top of
everything is less about serving the needs of all the people, and more about
squeezing productivity out of us, or casting aside when there’s nothing
productive to be squeezed out of us in a way that allows our feralization from
abandonment to not poison the herd.
Me personally? Polish immigrants I know,
Swedish/Norwegian orphan-ish and homeless grandmother I know, Scot surname I
carry filtered through Appalachian mountains and then a few generations of
rural southside Virginia I know, Pennsylvania Germans of some sort I know; and
yet I don’t know none of this completely. Grew up my whole life in in the same
rough area, know the trees and the rivers and the main roads and the people who
live here. Half-cousins and step-nephews and before it all fell apart, family
gatherings with more last names than side dishes. In the sense of that applied
order, we are all dysfunctional, because the order wants us to function in a
way that’s not naturally easy.
Fuck it. It’s that shit that makes me feel alone –
that I’m lost from where I’m supposed to be. But I’m not supposed to be
anywhere, except right here. Existential crisis depends on existential purpose,
which is likely a myth anyways. I’m gonna walk ten miles today, and every face
I see is gonna be my brother or sister. So easy to get lost in the hatred
manufactured by the classifications and purity tests and ill logic masquerading
as intelligence. Just gonna walk this shit off, like humans have done since the
beginning of humans.
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