i are fifth

Some i ams to start the week

10. i am organized
"he'll be able to reach behind him and grab a tool without looking. move it two inches to the left and he'll spend weeks looking for it."
so says pirsig. so says a lie. enforcement by routine breeds only the hollow comfort of repetition and by forcing the disparate details of existence into a optimistic, arbitrary system do we reach behind ourselves to find everything in a place ascribed to it as opposed to where it actually is.
look back for once and you'll find the chaos of reality but as long as you keep your eyes forward on the system, the vapid optimism, the unreality you've chosen for your perception you'll stay happily sane and unquestioning: an orgy of order self-imposed that keeps us content and most importantly, quiet. This piece of plastic garbage goes there or maybe it should be moved two inches to the left because otherwise the whole place would fall apart and you, you the candide lacking even disaster, you'd have to look at things for what they are.

11. i am my business (i am my product)
i didn't know it was any of your business to be mine. i didn't know it was any of my business to give myself up to a brand. livelihoods are not conducive to living. real opinions aren't ok if i have something to sell. individuality unacceptable to the churnings of capitalism.
but i'll keep this all secret from myself because otherwise i wouldn't be able to wander through suburbia in eternal fear of doing anything out of the ordinary or even of real value because the soccer moms and dads are all peeking in terror through the curtains and my logo is scarred, branded, onto my forehead: uncle graham's family friendly beige coloured uncontroversial plastic wrapped generic martial arts fun club. won't change your life but we do birthday parties.

12. i am engaged (participative)
every moment is right here. all i do is breathe and see only what's in front of me. the only way i can recognize that i'm alive. a future means i'm blind and a past means i'm dead. only the next step is real and every punch is the last one i'll ever throw.

13. i am joyful
i've got a songbird drawn into my leg because i don't want meaning to sing and scream. i'll go onto rooftops to see the city as a collection of moments, clinging to the belief that nothing is worth more than my own worthiness, than my own sense of being. nothing matters more than right now, whatever it is.
at some point in space and time we'll press our foreheads together, surrounded by a city of garbage and the hopelessness we're told to have. i'll forget it all because for a second they'll be nothing beyond the smell of your hair and the flickering streetlight.

14. i am breathing
thinking about it, my existence suddenly becomes deliberate. staying alive no longer left to the medula oblongata--the piece of lizard still left in me, haphazardly flawlessly regulating the necessities. but i can take over that one piece, become simply the function, confront the details in order to see. in, out, in, out. inoutinoutinoutinoutinoutintoutinoutinout until never and forever.

i can't hold my heartbeat but i can clamp my mouth shut to keep the outside world and the gift of life at bay. i'll always open sooner rather than later because my medula and myself have interests in still being around. the joys of panic waver under the rush of inout.