Jefferson City, Missouri
My time in the Missouri State Capitol should be coming to a close, my package showing signs of arriving by tomorrow. A quiet Sunday all in all as I transition from my Burger King mobile office to my library mobile office, the latter only open a few hours this afternoon.
Not a single day has passed without my being offered homeless intervention services, this foolish hiker converted foolish beggar, though I’ve asked for nothing, accepted nothing save a WiFi password from the library each day, each day confirming my identity prior to granting access, another pseudo-public offering that makes little sense beyond the performative ritual, the dance we long ago forgot the steps to as we perform each in flawless cadence.
A gas station attendant accosted me last night for audaciously endeavoring to fill my fuel bottle with fuel, “approved containers only,” she tells me as she refuses to hear me explain that my container is in fact approved, just smaller and and a little different than she wants it to be. She picked up the phone, presumably to call the cops! The next station down gave me no hassle.
I just can’t be who people need me to be out here. I can’t be helpless as they need. I can’t be ignorant and ill speaking as they need. I can’t be hungry as they need. I can’t lower my head and shower them with appreciation and affirmation as they need.
The veil falls fast when I explain to them their own ignorance in a calm and confident voice, when I ask them to confront their own hypocrisy as they predetermine for me my own identity, that is prima facie, as they assure me they stand correct in their conclusions, as they assure me of their color blindness, class blindness, gender blindness; but will never admit their eyes were long ago stitched shut, Plato’s dancing shadows, now 4K resolution, accepted as Truth…as they always have been within the matrix of Civilization.
I just can’t be who they need me to be…but I sure can capture a beautiful still!
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