The Faux Pas Press #89
15 April 2011
By Jason Fresh
What They’ll Say When You’re
Dead I’ve been caught between the strain of Puritanism and Libertarianism. Recently –that is. I’ve been caught between two pieces of bread smooshed together with peanut butter and jelly. I’ve been caught up wondering if the ill intent of others has any measurable outcome in my experience – or how I perceive my experience – or whatever the fuck. Know this. If I’m dreaming (and I’m convinced that I am), I will row, row, row your boat gently down the stream passed this turn in the flow. You see, I’m caught between the enemies on the left, the enemies on the right, but I am burgeoned with unlimited power, power filling the spaces of my MIND. I’m even calming your mind as you read this. Because what they’ll say when you’re dead is almost as inconsequential as what they’ll say when you’re alive, what they’re saying about you now. I quiet them all. I am still because I need to be. I breathe and live because I want to. I move my fingers over the keypad because, like you, I’m stuck. I’m caught between the two sides. I’ve been caught up wondering if there is anything truly measurable by any metric other than my own. No. No there is none. Stop looking for it. Just use the tools at your disposal and get to work. Because it doesn’t matter what they say about you when you’re dead. And, no, it doesn’t matter what they say about you now. All the voices, tyrannical voices of that realm - or this realm – or whatever fucking realm you open up to them are all quiet. So it is spoken. So it will be. And I live forever.
