Dear Other:
Monday night walking through the park on Madison and 25th street, a man sitting on a bench was yelling, loudly and psychotically about unfulfilled wants or needs. I did not ask. I continued on.
In these difficult economic times many people are in, one might ask, was he homeless, mentally ill, a man in difficult financial situations?
Looking upon myself as blogger there appeared similarities. Ready to cry to the abyss of cyperspace, receiving no ping or knowing who cares not, others are busy to their destination.
The role of organizer of the Existential Reading Circle came unexpectedly. A blooger? Who me? This man on the bench and me, in a situation not planned or imagined. A destination arrived by choices, a responsibility too.
I am the blogger on a bench, screaming in anguish!
Self.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
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