One Thing about Something (Post-Structural Prose)

SONY DSCOne cold morning while nursing a hangover one walked the school grounds in the humid air.  Exposed hands were stuck to a phone scratched and dented.  A phone was stuck to the side of a face blemished, pinked, dried.  Eyes fixed forward in a strange gaze.  One walked through the campus alone. One walked on sidewalk-ed ground, cement set years ago, wondering who’d been there before.  Making rounds, one never settled on a destination.  Never settle, not once.  One walked on, across streets, stopped at illuminated traffic lights, and through phosphorescent puddles.  Cars moved forward as components rattled, busses buzzed, through run-off thoughts ran off.  The sky was overcast grey; the wind was moderately strong, blowing only at the times wrong, each and every way. One made pace as one moved along.  One was one of many, uncharacterized, but belonged.

Above the clouds moved sliding past, one could take note with just one glance.  Thinking of physical activity while processing, one made a pass at attempting to walk back.  Everyone said, “Hey! Have an amazing Spring Break.”  One thought, what is that?

…And why is one taking a break.  One won’t stop writing or reading.  One won’t stop sleeping or eating.  One will just stop coming to a class at a certain time, producing certain works (text, solutions), and speaking with certain people, of a certain kind of mind.

One will not be inhibited by the rigorous demands of school; one will not stay out late and drink whiskey with friends, one will not wake parched and dry (from the weather and the liquor) next to someone one made upset hours before eyes met.  One will not know waking at 6:00 am to leave at 7:30 am to exist at 8:00 am.  Ready set go, and don’t be late.

One will sit in sweaty sheets looking at covered feet, examining books one hasn’t yet read and wish away the headache in one’s head.  Those are just things one might do, but one won’t be reading what they tell one to,

…or be writing papers that bore, one won’t be spending time meeting deadlines or rushing out the door. One will literally (and metaphorically, which is the same thing now) do something a bit more, or less to affect.

Man thinks it is best to go to the gym, locked inside, and exercise for the high heart-rate it gives him.  That is only until man has mastered the weather…  Then he realizes outside is much better.

The man sitting next to one reeks of gasoline and sweet dreams.  He leaves like leaves from the trees.  One hardly knows what the day will bring.  Coffee aroma hangs in the air, keyboard clicks, and pirates visit the computer screen shit.  One can think of the past, present, and future, or problems, or all four, but it doesn’t matter.  Coming to conclusions is an afterthought; settling is setting up for contradiction and trivial time lost.  One must contradict oneself to grow mentally.  Realizing that, like food, ideas can rot and become spoiled-soiled in the past intent thought.  What has one learned today?  One learned how to tell others what to do.  One learned something not to be forgot.

One understands the “subject” (which, from here on out is the subject) and the “other”, as Eurocentrism controls everything one knows.  The subject and the other, as in Post-Structuralism, as in Derrida, as in deconstruction, so one must think:  What is Eurocentrism?  He says, one says, no names, what is Eurocentrism?  One asks what he will ask next…  What is Eurocentrism?  One does not have a romantic past, present, or future; one has simply a beginning, middle, and end.  Well, the subject is the European, and the subject is the most important part of the idea of Eurocentrism, that also makes everything and everyone else the “other”.  The other is the differance, the lesser.  Differance with an “a” defers something, moves something, puts something down in relation to the subject, but one knows this.  So Eurocentrism puts “others” down?  Yes, if one works it out one realizes that “Indians” did not call one another “Indians” they needed Europeans to do that.  One thinks they didn’t necessarily need Europeans, maybe they needed something else.  But then again, what happens is supposed to happen-apparently, so Eurocentrism happened, and we live with it, next to it, and in it: extimate; within and without, without thinking, lacking a doubt.  Think about that when you call an object a name, it may not be objective.  What does that mean?  One has no idea.  One is back on the sidewalk in the cold under grey skies on the phone staring forward deconstructing this morning and last night.  One does not know.


About Terry Scott Niebeling

Hello, My name is Terry Scott, a human being with flaws. twitter: @sirterryscott Buy my ebooks:
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