My first niece...Niecy was two years old when I first met her. She visited Boston with her mother and my brother (her father) way back in 1970. shw was the cutest thing. Wavy black hair with two pony tails. Her mom would ask her "What it is Niecy?" and she'd joyfully reply` "Like it is!".
Back then, I thought this was just a cutle little ebonic super-mini philisophical gibberish discourse. I would think to mysself...how stupid? What is that supposed to mean. But, as I've grown, I realize that that is life. What is--is indeed--like it is. I mean, how else can " it" be? I realized how difficult it is to face reality sometimes...even with life being as simple as Like it is.
I've written extensively in my journals about how hard we humans work to run away from life. And how hard we strive for vicarious ness. Nothing about " real do we choose to face" with the pervasive keep up with the Joneses society that we live in. Not only these days do we try to keep up with the Jonses, but there are the Evanoviches, the Smiths, the Williamses....
We are proverbial hamsters.....running on a noisy wheel that just gets bigger and bigger and llouder and louder...
I'd like for my life to mean something. If not to anyone else, at least, to my children. I'm tired of guessing at what my life should be. Trying to live an American drearm that has only been fantasy. ( And where did that come from anyway?)
Where am I going with this? Who knows?
Back then, I thought this was just a cutle little ebonic super-mini philisophical gibberish discourse. I would think to mysself...how stupid? What is that supposed to mean. But, as I've grown, I realize that that is life. What is--is indeed--like it is. I mean, how else can " it" be? I realized how difficult it is to face reality sometimes...even with life being as simple as Like it is.
I've written extensively in my journals about how hard we humans work to run away from life. And how hard we strive for vicarious ness. Nothing about " real do we choose to face" with the pervasive keep up with the Joneses society that we live in. Not only these days do we try to keep up with the Jonses, but there are the Evanoviches, the Smiths, the Williamses....
We are proverbial hamsters.....running on a noisy wheel that just gets bigger and bigger and llouder and louder...
I'd like for my life to mean something. If not to anyone else, at least, to my children. I'm tired of guessing at what my life should be. Trying to live an American drearm that has only been fantasy. ( And where did that come from anyway?)
Where am I going with this? Who knows?
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