japonisme: dammed self!

12 February 2012

dammed self!

what of identity, then?
is it a fixed thing, or fluid?
self, no self, shifting self?

i dilute, like water-color
drop of paint assuaged by water.
but how do i know, then, it's me?

one simple thing: my mouse
goes out, and i am suddenly
without connection, without hands.

my every thought is dammed,
my constant curiosity is still
plugged in yet impotent.

will i disappear? or
spend some time remembering
i will come back, i'm already there.

when connections are severed,
if you feel selfless you are
looking in the wrong direction.


ikite iru bakari zo ware to heshi [no] hana

just being alive
and the poppy


tr. David G. Lanoue

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Anonymous evan said...

"What of identity then...self, no self, shifting shelf?..."

I vote shifting self, perhaps one that orbits around the core self that, according to shrinks, you have by the time you're six. I'd like to think that experiences influence & change us. That we can take our successes & failures, learn from hem, apply them, grow from them & truly incorporate them into who we are.

I think though only a few of us can be "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo"...angry, defensive, predatory, sexual, brilliant & vulnerable after years of abuse...most of us after those kind of experiences are more inclined to "go postal", either on unfortunate people around us or on ourselves.

I am that six year old boy running alone in the snow in a brand new neighborhood. Weirdly enough, I live in that same neighborhood & that same house now, but I'm 56. That six year old is a memory of who I was...who I am now is that boy plus 50 years of experiences, good & bad.

No Tattoos.


14 February, 2012 10:55  
Blogger lotusgreen said...

me neither. back a couple of years ago, i was walking down woodward avenue in detroit, which was where i grew up. i was "in a mood". a gang of my cohorts were all about to pile into a car and drive to woodstock for a music festival that everyone was talking about.

me, i wanted a green parrot on my thigh. the money situation was that i had to pick one, woodstock or tattoo; i couldn't afford both. so i figured i'd keep walking down woodward till i got back to my apartment. if i passed a tattoo parlor i'd get my parrot. if not, i'd be going on that ride with my friends.

thank you for your beautiful comment, evan, so rich with your history.

14 February, 2012 16:31  

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hi, and thanks so much for stopping by. i spend all too much time thinking my own thoughts about this stuff, so please tell me yours. i thrive on the exchange!

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