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Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Déjà vu: 8 and a half

"Same shit different day. Personalism bro."

Jēkabs Osis


The tendency of the day's frustration and Franklin's tendency to indignation were equally one-sided. Tendencies tend to traverse distant dominions in urban constructs, whisking both the personal and public with consistent strokes. These thoughts impregnated his mind and the mind of his closest friend, Esdras, the monk parrot that lived on his enclosed balcony. Mental implosion was on the Horizon and would potentially go public to the surprise of absolutely– no one. As soon as Franklin’s feet steadied to a scraping rhythm on the sidewalk and proceeded to mix the measures, his precariousness simultaneously secreted one million variants of expression to a calibrated shunting, much like the train. The vague statement "mental breakdown" was as banal to Franklin as love, hate, peace, and justice. These terms had nestled next to a surplus of oxidized paper clips and bland cough drops in the junk drawer of his mind. Despite Franklin’s diversion from the term, Esdras seemed to be on the verge of applying “mental breakdown” to her vocabulary at any moment. It was on the tip of her tongue. Currently her vocabulary was compiled of Penelope, shit-head, and mother of god. Esdras had inventively built her vocabulary over the past 3 years. She utilized a listening and comprehension approach she acquired from other fellow pets in the building. This was the greatest difference between owner and pet; Franklin´s silence and Esdras' redundant banter. The silence of Franklin and the repetitive cacophony of Esdras was unbearable. It created thick tensions with many layers. Not like a cake. More like a greasy lasagna. This whisking of the private and public spheres in Franklin’s brain were an imago dei of sorts. Franklin, being acutely aware of the tension, began to create anything and everything in the apartment. He converted the structure of the apartment by replacing all the dry wall with cast iron he found in abandoned buildings and on the outskirts of the city. Recently he had replaced his stainless steel sink with a fiberglass sink. The detail of a tinned glass nozzle brought a smile to his face. On the occasion of finding usable materials in the streets he would create new objects; ceramic pencils, ductile belly rings, flip books of recycled cloth, and other practical commodities for visitors who would never cross the threshold of his apartment. During his creative process he would lose himself in labyrinth gardens and urban fosses. They were simply mediums for reflections on hypothetical instances that occurred within the intricate landscape of distinct locations in his apartment and Buenos Aires. If he were pleased with them, he would project them on the blank white walls so he could create a map with his ceramic pencils marking key points with the ductile belly rings. Upon completing each map he would paste them in the various flip-books categorized by complementing guide, which was a list of random locales and street corners in the city. His categories for his maps were a chaotic list and resulted paramount, yet confusing, for even himself. Often in the process Franklin would skip the confusion with accurate discipline and recognize that he was most satisfied with the simple fact of creating objects as a result of the prior reflections. Sometimes he would create hybrid maps of both his apartment and the city. The maps were often too ambiguous to distinguish between city or dwelling place and lacked a key in the bottom right corner to guide the observant. Moreover it was likely that the complimenting guide was in shreds due to the carnivorous tendency of Esdras. Fortunately, using the belly rings as indicators and connecting the sinuous led tracings, freedom and form were always attained with patience and equally necessary frustration. It took Esdras awhile to get used to this routine of Franklin’s because his nutrient intake diminished a bit more in relation to each creation that Franklin undertook. Esdras continued to develop his vocabulary and consequently became noisier, thus pushing Franklin to create more and reflect more. Esdras could not make the connection between the components that were causing his developed malnutrition and Franklin had no time to realize his own negligence. His busyness creating, reflecting and projecting were generating a tense divide in his being and his relationship with Esdras. In one word, blindness. Ironically, he had only glimpsed the surface of it all upon completion of his one-thousandth map that was made to a scale of eight and a half inches to a meter. Unfortunately, this minute glimpse drove Franklin deeper into a grander and more taut division.