The Impossible Task of Soliciting Simplicity (Part Two) Sub-head (The Word New and Its Implications)

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The word new exaggerates a moment…

“Dude.”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know we’re constantly living in the past?”
“Yeah. Like. Time is an illusion.”
“No. I mean the way our brains process information and establish reality. We only get the brain’s interpretation from the information our senses collect.”
“What do you mean?”
Neal strikes Gabriel in the shoulder with a closed fist.
“Did you feel that?”
“Yeah.”
He massages his shoulder to subdue the pain.
“Well the nerve endings had to send a signal to your brain after I hit you to decide how your body should react. The same goes for the eyes, nose, ears…what have you. You can never turn them off. They’re interpreting information while you’re asleep and dreaming. But there’s a split second between the sending of information and the reaction your brain provides. You react a split second late. Always a split second behind. Always in the past. Always what your brain wants to believe. Sometimes our brains get it wrong. You hallucinate on a daily basis and don’t even recognize.”
“Recognize what?”
“Faux reality.”

The word new exaggerates a moment…

The meth-heads at the laundromat are feisty tonight. They encircle a dryer like admirers worshiping a deity, but in lieu of virgin sacrifice they twitch and ramble. A straggler ventures from the parishioners and travels from trashcan to trashcan examining its contents. “What the fuck are you doing?” “I am looking for soap.” She lifts a near empty detergent bottle from the basin and shakes its contents, the dense liquid swathes the hollow innards of the container, heavy waves that taunt gravity’s force with each weighted crest. She opens the container and pours the detergent into her cupped hand. A shallow blue puddle encapsulates the wrinkles that decorate her palm. She approaches a sink and combines the blue with the crystallized presence of tap water. She washes her face the way Jesus washed a whore’s foot. Bubbles protrude from the gaps in her smile as she hyperventilates during her facial cleansing. Afterwards she soaks up the concoction with an old Green Bay Packers t-shirt. She returns to her troupe of crystal fanatics and watches the dryer with elated interest.

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