BICYCLES

I find myself a completely different person today. It is as though
yesterday I was the same as the day before and the day before and the
day before. My life was like Tordenskjold's famous parade. It was as
though I was the same soldier on the parade of my life. I would march
past the reviewing stand of career, marriage, sex with strangers, sex
without strangers, Porsches, bicycles, the cat Dennis and my dead dog
Bastard, who I remember still with a deep affection. The cat I don't
care for. He is her cat. The fact is he hates me. Because I love her.
Even when I put on a different uniform and march past the stand again,
the cat knows. It was I who took Dennis to the veterinarians and had a
stranger cut off his balls. I represent the incalculable forces of the
garrison. And I am sleeping with his mistress. No. Life was always an
endless Kierkegaard. Like Tordenskjold and his famous parade. Soldier
after soldier. I was the same soldier that I was and thus the parade
continued. Stages On Life's Way. Kierkegaard. How did he know? What
is the point? Pointless to ask. I make a leap of faith and I land on
the same spot. Run and I go faster. Still no answer. What would Hegel
have said? Fuck him. Kierkegaard often argued with himself. How many
Kierkegaards does it take to change a lightbulb? One to postulate.
The whole thing is absurd. I know. I know. The individual exists in
a state of absurdity or how else would he know about the others? It
doesn't bear thinking about. Unless you were Kierkegaard. And look
what happened to him. But now I am a different man. Rationalization
is the concrete failure to understand the point. Now at last it is
over. Last night it happened. The car was in the shop and I was in
a loan. They call these courtesy cars but they never apologize for
the terrible smell of smokers. It is as though they conceived that
consciousness and the external object formed a unity in which both
could not exist independently not Hegel. Fuck them too. Today life
is different because I drove home backed in to the drive and ran
over the cat. I don't blame Dennis. He was expecting the Porsche.
No. The endless parade is over. I am completely different. There
is an end to it. She has told me that Dennis will recover but she
knows I always hated him. Of course the opposite is true. How am
I to explain to her about the soldiers? The endless Kierkegaard?