lack of maps

oh, this world is a curiosity. can you come up with a word for us? a machine-stamped button, a basic name-tag that explains a person in terms more complex than 'hello, my name is?' we attach ourselves to our names, like people who get tattoos that mean absolutely nothing to them. 'names are solid; names exist!' we flash them around as if they are more than smoke and mirrors. we tout them as some compression of the thoughts and feelings which we lay out on blankets across our world, for all to see. they are like the surf, constantly drumming all our castled-complexities down into one rendered and encompassable smoothness.

but what can we say about ourselves, beyond names? it cannot be said, with all certainty, what our drives and motivations are. we possess many associated animal and carnal traits, but we are not entirely defined by them. we have no magnetic north. we fumble around for a number of years, then barrel group-thinkingly into the labyrinth of society. it is extremely hard to be an individual and not be swept off into various dustbins, to be a grain of sand outside of the groomed zen-garden's contours. we submit, and are sorted like geological specimens.
the worst of it is this pressure to be marketable, to be 'useful' to society, when society's sense of 'use' is far off the mark of what it likely should be. teachers and progressive non-profit workers make no money. they should be doubly-honored for their self-sacrifices: both for their initiative to help make things better, and their willingness to exist in a substantially lower financial bracket for it. matches digresses. the point he is traipsing towards is that if there is something that you love to do, as a human you should have the right to do that and still exist comfortably. if a man loves nothing more than to sit next to a snake in the desert and play an oboe, then he should be able to concentrate all his efforts on that, and not feel icy stares on his back for choosing to live differently. he should be supported and applauded by his fellow men for following his heart, and not be forced into putting a spin on his act and busking on the boardwalk with slivers of sales pitches in his feet.

"or you can share your essence with us
'cause everything about you couldn't be rugged and ruff
and even though you tote a glock, and you're hot on the streets
if you dare to share your heart, we'll nod our heads to its beat."
~ saul williams - 'black stacey'

it seems such a strange concept, that we must conform to prescribed standards and modes of life. america is the land of freedom and opportunity...if you've got the finances to back it. if not you'd better start learning how to cater to someone, so that you too can feel the trickle-down of recycled money flowing your way. what would the world be like if money followed the same patterns as the water-cycle, evaporating at the shoreline and redistrubuting? perhaps it already does? but you'd better hope for that prime reservoir real-estate when rainclouds appear on the horizon.

such was the sub-point. substitute that prior pessimism for optimism, and you might unearth what mattress truly would like to mention: that though it seems like there are only so many paths to travel, we have the power and precision to forge new ones all the time. we really have no definition as humans...attempt it and you will end up dizzy in the spin-dry cycle. it means, on a positive note, that the only barriers existent are the ones that we create for ourselves. some of the most refreshing moments, on a year-to-year-to-decade basis, are the ones where we find out that we can still surprise ourselves~ forget the labels and the names, the minefields and the glass-ceilings. to quote the digable planets: you gotta do what you feel.

"be bold, and mighty forces will come to your aid."
~ goethe, 'faust'