When I woke up at 3:45am, made coffee, and sat at the computer to browse online forums, it didn’t occur to me yet. That thing about meaning. I’ll get to that later, in a minute or so.
Randomly viewing a song online, the music giving me a quaint and sweet nostalgia not only for times past but more importantly for past times not, I pounded my brain for the answer. That one song, what was it? I knew it had a connection to this, a… meaning. If only I can just. Oh, right. That one.
I find it on youtube and hit play. Waves of relaxation, nostalgia and vibe-heaven pour over me. I am alive again. I love my life. Suddenly I realize I need more than coffee.
I hit pause on the video, the irony of this playing against my more rational inclinations. Why not just leave it playing while I go to the kitchen? But no, something aesthetic responds, intense, immediate: I must be here, here, for it.
In the kitchen I refresh the coffee cup with another round of Arabica beans from the Nespresso, and while that is brewing up I check the cupboard under and just to the right of the sink. Hmm, less here than I thought. Two bottles, both almost empty. First is Jack Daniels, not bad. Then some kind of mix of Irish whiskey and American Bourbon under an obscure label.
I grab the second one, if only because there is a bit more liquid left in the bottle. My hand completes a circuit as it touches glass. Hic sunt dracones. Ouroboros smiles in shiny fangs.
I grab the coffee mug now full and return to my room. Seat still feels warm. My dog stirs in sleep but doesn’t wake up. I sit and press ‘Play’. The music resumes, and now I am here, fully and wonderfully prepared.
Which one first, I wonder. No question. I pour some whiskey into a glass and drink. Burn, harsh and smooth and glorious. Seconds later the emotions follow. I am in love. With what? Who cares. Next is a few sips of hot coffee, the perfect “chaser” for an early morning dive.
Big wave, da dah da. Big wave. My life is gonna hit me with a big wave. And it does, and it did. Time is a great bartender.
What did we say about meaning before? Right. War, irrationality and insecurity, and possibly madness. I find these lurking in the shadows of things, in the soul of it. But why? Electricity hums the lines. Resonance grips the faithful and unfaithful alike. I sigh, mutter and moan, smile. Do I need to go to work soon? The thought is like a silly cloud, that makes the sky laugh clean soft raindrops over vast and warm Ohio fields.
What is meaning anyway? What is the meaning of meaning? No one I know has wondered this. That makes me wonder what my life even means, or could mean. Because surely meaning is not isolatory, insular, alone? The very word betrays a capture of narcissism that still lingers after first impressions. Perhaps because it is in my nature to always… dive deeper.
I clutch Zarathustra’s hand-rail and dive in. Henry Miller and Nietzsche shake hands over a gentlemanly game of chess.
E4. Engines purr through the windows. Skylight is almost. Tires peel in black and white movie screams, the desperate to go, to work, to earn, to thrive or survive. Am I one of these? The questioning seems to answer itself. Another drink. Two. Big waves keep impacting my being. How is life so grand, I wonder. Silver linings. She is. My…
There was something about that, what was it? Oh yes, the meaning. Of it.
What?
Time is funny. It exists when we don’t know. There were facts of which I was unaware. Meaning is only ponderous and overflowing with itself.
Meanwhile, outside in aether, something gathered.
Big waves…
I take another sip. What crimes on the other side of the planet can touch here? We will find out. Meanwhile the warmth is spreading and I recall Orwell’s Winston, who too wakes up and reaches for the burn of a bottle. I may have virtuality to fall back on, but our two experiences are less dislike than I’d care to consider. An obnoxious ad comes over the music at that very moment, I click it away and refresh the song. It pauses, loading enough time for me to make impulsory connections that my overactive mind might rather do without. Yet philosophy is one thing, life is another.
Hits play. Loading, pause, then yes. The glass is lower now, I take most of what remains. Coffee only mildly warm now, or no, it’s gone. What was it about time, again?
The world outside is still dark, sun stirring patiently below the curve of earth around me. I subside into the waves. Big, warm and sunshine spray of blue full in passion for the haves and nots. Ouroboros, thy name is Jenny.
Another sip, empty now. California calls to me in distant memories real and more real. Waking up in the water. Jive, groove in firelight amongst best friends. The universe a composite collage of sand and foamy remainders.
Big wave.
Hit me with a big wave.
