fool dis-closure / sin fin(ity)

1
That moment when you realize that you’ve won the argument, but lost the war.

(HA: 1 for me—ZERO for you!)

Ah, well.

One day, I will probably wake up and realize that one is indeed the loneliest number; zero, the face of infinity.


2
Proof of friendship: We stick around when others push their drama on us.

(Yes, but—what I forgot to say, at Tacos Michoacán on Broadway, as the three of us debated our options of how to deal with another friend’s unfolding drama, and this is an important Yes, but:

Maybe there is drama, and maybe there is something else.

You have to untangle, on the one hand, all the drama and ugliness each of us deals with and puts onto others as part of our needs from and interactions with other humans in a fucked up, oppressive situation, and on the other, all the narcissism, egocentrism, and pathological behavior that warps and perverts any attempt at human connection, healing, and relationship with a closed-circuit, highly analytical, neurotic loop—especially among Americans, especially among white Americans.

Some people, I am willing to participate in their drama and craziness—consider it a privilege even (hiding out together for days in hedonistic bliss to avoid dysfunctional families and emotional confrontations, insisting on helping someone who insists on refusing my help, engaging in long, drawn-out analyses of personal issues and problems, etc.). Others, I refuse. One situation offers the possibility of healing—for both of us—the other offers nothing but more sickness, disease, alienation, deterioration. Expansion; contraction. Growth; diminishment.

My ability to discern between the two, and my willingness/unwillingness to participate, arise from an intersection point of tangled strands of acculturation, assimilation, colonization, and color-coded consciousness.)