Who has time for anything? How does anyone have time to do anything?
Certain words and concepts give me more and more trouble as I keep them in consideration. So much of our civilization relies on phenomena and behaviors that cannot be proven to have occurred. You say you see something. Prove it. Disprove it. There is no layer of strata that forms on your retina or in your brain matter to prove you saw something, or that you know something. Consciousness, which is alleged to exist as an entity similar to the dispersed collective mind of ants, has nevertheless never been proven to exist. What of memory? Does it exist, or is it scripted and self-servingly dissected to separate itself from what really happened?
The word “pictures” starts to concern me as well. Just a framed interpretation of reality which, by appearance, can differ considerably from what events transpired. A picture can say so much but so little. Behind the smiles and happiness there is abusiveness and destructiveness.
…and all that. I was in Greenpoint earlier where I spotted an abandoned Verizon payphone at Christina’s Restaurant on Manhattan Avenue. It was inside the front door, so had the door not been open I would likely never have seen it. There must be thousands of old phones like that, lurking within restaurants and older establishments.
Now I am at the coffee shop. I found an EasyPayExpress MetroCard, unlimited ride, auto refill only. I expected that whoever lost it would cancel it pronto, since it appears they will pay be automatically billed for it. But 2 days later the card still works. I’ve never had such a card as this, so maybe the seemingly obvious idea of cancelling payment on it is not as easy as I think.
Or maybe whoever lost it thinks it’s cool that someone like me found it and is galavanting all over town for free.
I used to read a website by someone who said he had not paid for a MetroCard in many years. He just found them all over the place, but had strategies for where best to find them. He quit posting after some horrible sounding injury kept him off mass transit.
Going home to, I don’t know, digitize more tapes and play at the piano.