Zen Pencils by Gavin Aung Than for May 22, 2015
I don’t want to pass through life like a smooth plane ride. All you do is get to breathe and copulate and finally die. I don’t want to go with the smooth skin and the calm brow. I hope I end up a blithering idiot cursing the sun. THE END IS NIGH Hallucinating, screaming, giving obscene and inane lectures on street corners and public parks. People will walk by and say… SAVE YOURSELF! Man: Look at that drooling idiot. What a basket case. I will turn and say to them… Henry: IT IS YOU WHO ARE THE BASKET CASE! Henry: For every moment you hated your job, cursed your wife and sold yourself to a dream that you didn’t even conceive! Henry: FOR THE TIMES YOUR SOUL SCREAMED YES AND YOU SAID NO! FOR ALL OF THAT. For your self-torture… Henry: I SEE THE GLOWING EYES OF THE SUN! THE AIR TALKS TO ME! Henry: I AM AT ALL TIMES! HOME SWEET HOME YAWN And maybe… …the passers by will drop a coin into my cup. - Henry Rollins
Nah, it’s just an excuse for being lazy and stinky. Love a woman, fight a man, raise children, learn parachuting, get into knife fight. You know, LIVE. Earn your spurs. Just laying about, unbathed on a park bench, railing against everything and hoping someone tosses you a dollar? Bah. Be a child, a man, a warrior, the head of a household, parent, a monk, a hermit; but BE something other than a mess on a bench. Live the gestalt of existence. Eat, drink, be merry, love, hate. If you have never left a house of ill-repute at dawn, tired, exhausted and having laid waste to your body and stained your soul, you have not lived.