We don't carve our lives from time time our lives from itself. Like a cruel joke on our weak protests. It hides in its own question laughing at the ages it defines. It circles all of our segments leaving perception the only guess at lines; and some guesses are worth dying for. Isn't that history, or todays' news?
Church thinks we are nothing but segments trying to draw, dream, and vainly dictate lines of worth, god, or as he puts it, 'what the fuck ever it may be.' He says we are all trying to draw lines only to suffer as segments, clearly beginning and clearly ending. Church says we will never understand why the only true line a human can draw is indeed a circle. The circle of time. 'The mother fucking ultimate line,' so thinks Church.
Church blows another line of that stuff from The Eagle, our delivery guy for blow, and ironically, in the most ignornant of forms, he starts redrawing his analogy of the metaphysical lines he thinks we all draw in an effort to define our place in this time. Lines of ideology, or the refutation there of. 'What's the difference,' he says. That is the joke. It may be a riddle of sorts, but where is the irony? I tell him I believe the irony to live in the segments. Not like a separate segment, or even another shape, just something that is there. Hidden and mysterious, but none-the-less there. If it is there, then it exists. Now that is what I call irony. Simple logic. We ignore who we are, and buy and sell what we are. Drawing lines and living segments. Maybe it is the circle that laughs infinity a human touch?
The deeper irony is my personal joke on time. Time has given us the power to turn segments into lines, at least in our minds. Maybe Church and I tried, hell we even did enough coke to allow us to truly ignore time. But does that mean we bought its pitch, or became actors in its play? Who knows? I guess Church and I do play roles, but at least we question, and at best maybe we even direct in a small way - given our place in this time.
Church always says that ignorance must be pointed out and corrected. I usually agree, and paint an example related to our lives in this place. We do another line of the entertainment sort off of one pop CD case or another. Silence. Reflection. Fuck it. Church likes sunglasses and wears them both day and night, like a slap in times face. It's his rebellion against ignorance, I guess. I never wear sunglasses, unless I need to hide my eyes from the world. I guess Church and me are sort of oppositely agreeing.
Church sits with his personal rebellion on one side of the dining table, while I sit with my apathy on the opposite side. We agree, and it seems like we have drawn an actual line. Then the blow runs out, and circles become periods real fucking quick, ending our line and turning us back into segments. Back to life. Life is just a segment, unknowingly bounded by the cirlce of time. Chuch says the only true line will be the one that ends time. I call him vain for believing he can predict the end of life.
We circle religion, and wish our segments into lines of belief, for the task of drawing faith must be devine. What about that sadistic circle though? Maybe we just don't get the joke? I guess nobody does get it. Right and wrong can never exist on a true line. It's segments that compete for length and give pride to belief and judgement. We are all segments, my friend. I believe; however, that there is a line, and that line is divine in its very nature. Maybe someday we will be taught how to draw forever, but for now I guess we just stop when the ink runs out and pray there is another pen.
Church tells me that experience is the only way to understand the punch line. We talk about this, and even think we understand life for a moment. Maybe we are the only true actors left. Lost in being spoiled and bored enough to discuss the meaning of death. We paint no true answers, only draw circles around questions. If all the philosophy and religion of the world saw belief as a circle, then maybe we could add another dimension to time? Like a vortex; or a cirlce that brings us back to the world in another form. In the end we are all circled in segments of true meaning, never understanding the connection. Well, something like that.....
