Neurosis
Greetings,
I'm ok. It's the world that's in a mess.
People here love to look back. It is a passion. It is a genetic molecule of fear, doubt and uncertainty. Perhaps also just a plain childish innocent curiosity of wanting the past, needing.
Yes. Focus on needs, not wants. Needs manifesting their desire. A desire for a ghost. We are all passing through.
They look back to see if they see, yes, in their vivid reptilian imagination a ghost. Their ghost. A ghost from a family, friend, lost. Looking for clues at their personal ground zero.
They've arrived from distant galaxies. Java man was discovered here 40,000 years ago.
So it figures, accepting an evolutionary premise, their DNA star chart continues its genetic dance today.
I live in talking monkey zones. They eat rice. They drink water. They wash one set of clothing and hang it out to dry on poles. They burn down the forest. They harvest brooms. Their shamans bring rain. Tropical downpours allow people the luxury to wash cars.
They use their faint star energy to look, not really seeing, behind them wondering, all the wondering.
Food is cheap here. Medicine and education is expensive. This has nothing to do with simians. It has nothing to do with the two women sitting in a dark warung neighborhood food joint. The warung faces a tall cinder block wall. Chickens, goats and cats prowl, peck and forage through garbage and dreams.
One woman sits quietly in a deep meditation. Her friend parts her hair gently, looking for minute insects, cleaning her scalp. They take turns cleaning and inspecting. This genetic behavior is being repeated in zoos, jungles, and rain forests. Chattering oral story tellers play the gamelan, pounding out 40,000 year old tunes.
Healing the people with music.
Males wash their little toy machines. They study the accumulated grime under long yellow curling fingernails. They play chess along the road waiting for passengers. Some visit the warung to chat up the girls or eat spicy rice mixed with tofu, chicken, veggies, green chillies and deep fried snacks.
Here's one man building a brave new world. Forging new futures with a patriotic purpose. An assessment on process in a data based star cluster.
Metta.
My name is Captain Dan. I was an interpreter at MAC V during the Vietnam War. I sail out of Hoi An.
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