So I was mad. Really mad. Mad at how much time we waste not doing exactly what we want to do. Mad at every second slipping away not properly appreciated, celebrated. Chances slipping away too. So much time slipping away while we sit around intimidated, scared, self-conscious. So I was mad and it was 3:00 AM and I went downtown and luckily I saw that there was a light on in the house of Jess. "Jess," I said, "time is fucking slipping away and we are not pursuing our dreams!", though the real crime wasn't just that we weren't pursuing our dreams, it was that we had stopped dreaming. "Okay" said Jess, "let's start thinking".
All kinds of ridiculous things are accepted as perfectly normal, things like "bar time", like undercover cops, like all the accepted norms of living, looking, and loving. So if all these absurdities were accepted, there was no reason our own ridiculous ideas should seem unreasonable or unobtainable. We thought we'd start with our little corner of the world, the strip of G street that Jess's second floor window looked out onto. We started thinking of what we'd like to see if we walked out onto G street.
All kinds of people out of their houses doing things in public. People doing art, people playing music, people fucking, people sleeping. Fields of corn instead of lawns. Places like Don's donut bar but with no donuts and no money. People talking and teaching and there'd be lots of stands and shanty's and booths like "idea exchange" and "story exchange"! That seemed like a good place to start, and after all, we did have to start somewhere.
