A portrait-sketch of a cool optimist named Alyosha Comey learning how to relax– sketched from a compressed/simplified maximalist perspective/point of view (Bernards, New Jersey; between Sunday, September 20th, 2020 and Friday, September 25th, 2020)

Bernards, New Jersey; between Sunday, September 20th, 2020 and Friday, September 25th, 2020

A portrait-sketch of a cool optimist named Alyosha Comey learning

how to relax– sketched from a compressed/simplified maximalist

perspective/point of view.

Alyosha Comey did not believe

in happiness per se, so he wouldn’t have called it that, but he finally

learned how to relax,

and feel free

of his previously substantial susceptibility to sensory

overload

and panic attacks, drinking till nearly blacking out; this novel relaxation

resembled for Alyosha a walk along a notably and newly crack-and-pothole-

free asphalt road, a newly erected bridge route

founded

on the uplifting

idea of significantly reduced doubt.

But what had his proneness to sensory overload and panic attacks even

been about? He partly blamed “postmodernism” and the Great Earth-

wide Information Flood of the Early Internet Age which had been inthe

midst of the Covid nineteen pandemic and The Great Culture,

Definition, and Meaning War––where, to quote Giuliani, “truth isn’t

truth”

and to quote my critics, “this isn’t poetry!”; “this isn’t prose!”; whatevs (?),

quoth Shakespeare: “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose/ By any

other name would smell as sweet.” I wonder, is it me or them who is elitist or

are we both? Or neither? I’ve been trying to go more “folk”  but maintain an

intellectual approach like the Great Bob Dylan, John Lennon, Dostoevsky,

Ginsberg, Lopate, et alia

“We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight/Ask himself if it’s him or them that’s insane” sang Bob Dylan.

…So how did Alyosha manage to chill out in the midst of all that cliquish

oligarchic schismatic nationalism, and extreme isolationist hyper-niche

unique boutique mystique, “just another voice in the wilderness”

Groupthink-ism-ese bullshit and also in sight that nearly outright Fascism

—“Trump Won’t Commit to ‘Peaceful’ Post-Election Transfer of Power” to

quote the New York Times 9/23/20 headline…   Well, he began listening to

classical music—Sergei Prokofiev–He had just happened to enjoy a tune, a

melody he happened to hear on a Spotify playlist he was listening to. (One

that played a random mix of things) “Who is this?” he said aloud, in awe of

the sound, so he wrote it down, and began Googling around to find out

more about this Prokofiev, so he could appreciate a closer listen, then that’s

what he did,

and it really just simply relaxed

him. His spine felt straighter.

His mind, (to the extent that we can conceptualize such a thing) instead of

racing chaotically,

felt as though a sailboat, methodically built for stability, sailing the vastness

of ocean in

tranquility. 

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