Days of Me
When people say they miss me,
I think how much I miss me too,
Me, the old me, the great me,
Lover of three women in one day,
Modest me, the best me, friend
To waiters and bartenders, hearty
Laugher and name rememberer,
Proud me, handsome and hirsute
In soccer shoes and shorts
On the ball fields behind MIT,
Strong me in a weightbelt at the gym,
Mutual sweat dripper in and out
Of the sauna, furtive observer
Of the coeducated and scantily clad,
Speedy me, cyclist of rivers,
Goose and peregrine falcon
Counter, all season venturer,
Chatterer-up of corner cops,
Groundskeepers, mothers with strollers,
Outwitter of panhandlers and bill
Collectors, avoider of levies, excises,
Me in a taxi in the rain,
Pressing my luck all the way home.
That’s me at the dice table, baby,
Betting come, little Joe, and yo,
Blowing the coals, laying thunder,
My foot on top a fifty dollar chip
Some drunk spilled on the floor,
Dishonest me, evener of scores,
Eager accepter of the extra change,
Hotel towel pilferer, coffee spoon
Lifter, fervent retailer of others’
Fumor, blackhearted gossiper,
Poisoner at the well, dweller
In unsavory detail, delighted sayer
Of the vulgar, off course belier
Of the true me, empiric builder
Newly haircutted, stickerer-up
For pals, jam unpriser, medic
To the self-inflicted, attorney
To the self-indicted, petty accountant
And keeper of the double books,
Great divider of the universe
And all its forms of existence
Into its relationship to me,
Fellow trembler to the future,
Thin air gawker, apprehender
Of the frameless door.
-Stuart Dischell
Poem of the Month 
Nina,
If you miss things about yourself, go get them! They exist still. I know that, in my own way and, I guess, in how I’m interpreting this poem, I’m finding that I miss things about myself also. What I miss most about myself is the belief that I am a wholeistic person. At times, I find myself to be a Phoenix, but hardly ever a Shiva.
I think it’s been strange, at least within my own life, how as long as most people see me as kind and understanding then I am called: “useful”, a “good son” and even “sane”. But, when I begin to summon Odin, then I am called: “not legitimite”, “problematic” and even “crazy”.
I think that humans are both sides of the coin all of the time, but very few people reconize that and even less admit to it. Where did we go wrong? Why aren’t we dancing in the sun with feathers on our arms anymore? Why are we afraid to break through the glass of time to swim with fish? Why is is considered immoral to fill our minds with little bits of drug and participate in all sorts of debotchery with good and trusted friends?
The reasons are varied, I think, and most likely can be expounded on at great length. I know a big reason why this occurs from my standpoint though, is because in my quest for feeling and living, I tend to forget that I only need to feel and live and be happy for myself.
It’s interesting living without cable tv and then spending time with my parents who have tv and realizing how much tv is “needed”. I say “needed”, because for me, in this case, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Tv gives us news, but we all know how different stations promote their own agendas. Life is like that. Everyone has their own agendas, and I think it’s a good thing. I’m not saying tv is inherantly bad in itself, but when people stop realizing that tv is just entertainment and opinions, even if it’s news or reality shows, cartoons or whatever then that’s the point when we stop feeling.
I think some people stopped feeling on thier own long ago and don’t even realize it. We feel. Tv seems like ultra- feeling, so that becomes the new feeling. It becomes a reason to spend time with the family to engage in conversation and to think. People become addicted so much on it, that many new channels are needed. Everyone wants the maximum amount of channels, but there is never anything on any of them. That seems very strange to me, and perhaps even a little scary.
Tv is the new God. It’s not just tv. It’s the trusted doctor in whom we place all faith, even though we know very little about the medicine he gives us and even less about how it actually works in our own bodies. It’s the family member telling us how to love and cherish who then turns around and slaps our hands for us wanting to touch the stove just because we want to see why dinner tastes so good.
In time, we hate dinner and eventually eating in general. We hate other people because they said the “right thing” that we disagree with but feel powerless to anything about. We end up hating ourselves because we don’t know where to turn. We shut off everything because opression and bastardization has ruined everything that may be dangerous or exciting in us. Of couse, these are just my own experiences and my own opinions.
I say we take back! The life full of satuated and sometimes supersatured color still exists! Taste, not liking what we taste, opinions, shooting lightning from our eyes, that small hot feeling between our legs when we see someone pleasureable, that all exists! And, that’s what all of those things are: experiences. They can be more, depending on what we do with them. But, I think when we let things and people decide what is ultimately good, and how we should treat those good things, we devoit ourselves of who we are. We may not notice it at first, but eventually we do. And I know, at least for me and how my life has gone, there comes a time when I say: “Where have I gone?”
When I take back. When I do and like and critique , I recalim who I am. I reclaim being human. Eventually people may say: “You aren’t the Brad I knew. I miss that Brad.” With confidence I can reply: “I am the same Brad you knew, but it looks like you didn’t actually know me at all.”