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Remember, remember the 5th…

we were watching a movie about vendettas at the local Occupation today, but the memories are sparse as i begin trying to recall my tale that usually does not draw all the particular details as i wish witnessed by all the people involved, even though the pieces could be reassembled slightly coherent for the novice of my writing style to read with some vague outline of what occurred there that night… the setting before going to the Occupation is lost in the murky back story as we play into the almost two months since the memory was a crystal-clear event, i brought my acoustic bass guitar which has singled me out among the local Occupiers i know by first name, but i don’t play well into the easy good vibrations of my neighbors because i believe negative tendencies seem to carry with me wherever i go… i made my bed years ago and now i must lie in it with the occasional pity party playing in my head as i begin to burden another with my inconsistent emotional baggage, playing a game of backwards losers and winners making the tension rise and fall as i try to kill the gloom that lingers in my mind even when it is a good feeling place to be, but the ‘mister me’ mystery is quite a pain in the ass for those that don’t want to hear it… lips that are dry and parched of breath forced into fearing what words might fall from them shooting forth in hasty deepest offense as what is heard and what is said are too often different things, and sometimes the shaking of dismissal that says ‘no’ to things that don’t need to be said as the last voice one hears at stressful intervals… no one wants to hear the wrong thing come out of their mouths when it means the difference between being understood and wigging out among the morons, and sometimes we all come so close in the ways that make us rethink our own personal value while embedded in this massive thing humanity has become as the human tools get used and abused and then put away when things only stay fresh in that precious gap in present timing as the humans are possessed with a righteous urge to define themselves in glowing terms only to further profit from making even the false appropriate impression in order to cage people in their own ideals and then misuse the hypocritical knife’s edge for personal gain, what else does politics have to offer anyone except a misuse of power in the name of the people while using it to further one’s own manifestation of dreams and goals?… it was a tiring night, and the general assembly was at seven in the evening, as earlier there was an onrush from local Occupation sources in communication with my lover to collaborate and facilitate a meeting between some “core” members to discuss multiple topics on the state of the local Occupation primarily dedication and privilege… this seemed to take place sometime in the middle of the general assembly with a minimum of people involved at first, but gradually grew to a more invasive number gathered around these first handful adding confusion to the situation by asking to be filled in each time a new person joined, i stayed naturally quite oblivious except for my ears which heard most of the commentary tossed between people for more clarification… all the actual details are spread among those who were there to witness the strange social competition that people seemed to get lost within as per the usual amounts of human drama attached to the definition of consensual human habitation and motion as the internal structure begins to fray slightly, or perhaps buckle under the weight of what intense baggage people bring along to their debates encouraging others to participate in the dialogue as more entered into the discussions as a majority of those involved with the original GA broke up upon consensus and shifted attention to the discussion over a mobile Occupation in light of the supposedly degenerating state of the Occupation in the park, now my role has always seemed to me to be as the third-party observer participating when i feel that my immediate actions as would best benefit the goals of the Occupy movement when i can as a compliment to the significance of my other… tonight, the pressure from all sides was on as the tension and social struggle got the point of forcing “core” members to escape from the park while my love fielded all the questions pertinent to the exclusion of others to what became a public discussion by all accounts after the general assembly had ended, but it was due to the call of a “core” member of the local Occupation and my love answering in response to the summons as diligently other “core” members were contacted in quick succession via Email… however, i may be mistaking bits of this particular instance i speak of with the actual 5th as it might have occurred that night that is honestly behind me now as i try to think about what had happened, but fragments of later on that night in a shanty of a building and bar may be more accurate than the recounting of the GA and the discussion occurring in its shadow with all of the attached frustrations and emotional ambiguity my love and i went for a drink at said bar at that late hour… we had left Sealegs behind, though, once libations had been thrown back in good company and the majority of local Occu-peers except for two hanging back at the bar of which my love was one of the duo, but i had joined the drunken reconnaissance party with my plucked strings along hanging back to play my bass-sick licks on the fountain structure in the park as there lay the overnight Occupiers wrapped in their bags of sleep for the good fifteen minute or so solo when i realized my party had left me there… memory is such a wasted trait at best for those of us that have no sense to spend looking and coordinating through the grey miasma as it barely grips or allows our senses a space from which to work against the tide of common perception that lies to us on words with thinly veiled layers too difficult to describe, but Sealegs was found and brought back the bar as i recall the feeling of finding the way back through the darkness slightly drunk though thoroughly focused and nerving to get back to the bar as well, shortly after my arrival the bar began to close around us few patio people there waiting for the after-hours place to open up while my love chatted up one of the handfuls of Occu-liars i have met that make the most of a short-term memory while pretending to commit to a cause for freedom… Who am i to judge as with very little actual Occupation experience where it has counted on my part per say, but interactions are always different Here depending on how open another person’s mind actually happens to be as moods seem to vary between personalities whenever speaking of anyone in particular as the emotion can shape the extremity of human interaction as events flying about quite over-enunciated by the viewer who witnesses the situation first-hand, this distortion is the shiny prismatic lens through which this visceral thing we participate with lives and feeds and breathes upon as the energy enervating our dancing bones…

Thanks, khet.