...off & on...
...on being switched off...
“Turn on, Tune in, Drop out.”
-Timothy Leary-
PART ON
Is it better to be off or to be on?
ON
Awake. Alert. Ready. Planning. Doing. Being. Existing.
OFF.
Asleep. Dreaming. Missing. Breathing. Hidden. Maybe.
ON.
Aware. Alive. Attuned. Moving. Seeing.
OFF.
Alive. Alone. Awash. Afloat. Snoring.
The pulse of the pulses around me reverberates and glows. It echoes its echoes. Its calling calls. Technology is thirsty. The screens want us to be inside of them. Everything we do outside must go back in. I turn my phone on. I see you there. I turn my phone off. I see my phone. I put my phone down. I see the world.
I step. I dance. I lay down and twist. I stretch. I pause. I wish and I wish. The days seem to be slowly getting faster. My moments gaining momentum. My movements have more meaning. The symphony of distraction orchestrates another offering.
I get online and want to be offline. All the work I do on here is work I don’t do off in the world. I see this feeling shared in the words of the world. Where might we go to not be here? Our wishy washy windows need a windex. We watch our watches to tell time to sit still.
Here time. Good time. Sit time. Go fetch.
My destination is dirt. I want vacation vocations. Some people are paid to get off. I’d like to get on that career track. I want to spend my time on going off. I got sold timeshares I could be sharing. Only my time alone I own. This is our time together. What are we doing online?
ON.
The road. The path. The way. The town.
OFF.
The chain. The charts. The press. The hook.
Something is off with the way we go on and on and on. My ponderance is ponderous. The path is pogo. Bounce bounce bounce.
I like sleeping with the door open. I like sleeping outdoors. I like hanging in a hammock. I like hanging on the wall.
ON.
To bigger things. To brighter days. To better tomorrows. To other adventures.
OFF.
To another place. To the races. To a good start. To see the wizard.
What would happen if I went off? If I turned off? If I stayed off?
I should get on with it. I want to hang out with the flying monkeys. I want brains, courage and a heart. I want. I want. I want. I feel like a big baby. Is this why old adults eventually crinkle and dust?
I may need some time off. Off is a refill. On is a six pack. Off is an empty cup. On is new makeup. On is what we are doing here. Off is what we might do there.
There is a lantern in an abandoned hut four hills over the thirty mountain pass. All who enter must light it. Wear the cloak of evocation and pour tea from Carellisis’s cauldron.
Drink by a fire the color of your choosing. Light a pipe of Shandohoos Shred and stare at the smoke as it rises around you. Crunch in the crones of conspicuousness. Bathe in the basque of borinquenez broth. Go on. Get off. Get on. Go off. Get here. Meet Geoff.
Off.
Shaved. Naked. Brushed. Laid.
On.
Hairy. Shirted. Covered. Dressed.
“Whenever in doubt, turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream.”
-Timothy Leary-
PART OFF
I am on a plane I can't wait to get off of. The lights go off and the sound is awful. Coughing and sneezing and sleeping and shushing. The ice clings. The whir spurts. I am a man in the air. Not super, but ok and thanks for asking. I am on only a few hours of sleep again. I am ready to doze (off). It is night time and the lights flicker the further we make it into the clouds. The world below me turns them off and goes on to their sleep and dreams and nightmares and sleep.
Around the globe someone is just starting to get on with their day. An espresso and chocolate. A good two minute shit. The clouds start to cover my night. My world is upside down. The stars on earth are the houses awake. The stars in the sky are planets far off. I won’t step a foot onto any of them.
How strange all us strangers, so many, so missing. Yawns have overtaken our space station. The power is on. The gravity is off. I think and the louder my mind goes into space. I am above where I was, but I’m below where I’m never.
Off.
Lights. Sound. Glass. Kettle.
On.
Blankets. Caress. Dreams. Comfort.
The captain says to keep my safety belt on. I’d like to unbuckle and be mistaken for a virgin. My innocence isn’t my invention’s intention. I’ve come to see the air in my eyeballs. I’ll be there if you see me. I’ll be there if you don’t. I am guilty of finding too much interest in my findings.
Off.
Again.
On.
Again.
The most powerful are without power now, their voice closest to the gods. They lay in their darkness covered in sunlight. They wash in imagination. They are onto something.
Off.
Today. To do. To be done.
On.
Tomorrow. To turn. To off.
The sky shakes the plane and I feel off. My mind shakes my hand and I feel on. Not everywhere is interesting. There are cities named nothing. The on and off switch places. Neither is home without the other. They match and are striking, enflamed and breathless.
On.
Stuck. Tied. Set. Posed.
Off.
Gone. Tossed. Torn. Scrapped.
I could go on and on, but I think I prefer to go off and off. On was my offer to be honest. The truth is unsure. I will turn off again. I will turn on again. But I am no better on. And I am no worse off. So I go on. I go off.
I go on. I go off.
I go on. I go off.
This is my power.
…special thanks to
or your helpful feedback and encouragement on this essay…i appreciate you and all that you do…
“The more on you are, the moron you are.” CansaFis Foote - Ok, this is your best yet. Genius dude.
I reach the end and I am suspended in the beginning .. thank you