Philosopher as an artist—In this article, I will be expanding upon the essay Instinct, Intelligence, and Anxiety by Alan Watts. This essay came into my life when I was having an internal debate of impulse vs. rational thought. How much of our experience is due to an excess of one or the other? Can we ever fully master our desires, or will they possess us and make free will obsolete?
On the fourth of July, the I-405 was a cemetery of cars. Parts were strewn all over the pavement, colors of vehicles intertwined and left tattoos along the guardrails. The sky had transformed into a kaleidoscope of explosion, vibrant shades of red, white, blue, and green dominated the night. The light show mesmerized drivers, causing collision and pileups. I'm convinced that all of Southern California was sent a memo with secret coding detailing the exact time and place to unleash their arsenal.
4 AM tends to seduce the soul, instructing it to step out of the body, and examine what lies beneath the bone. The city has become a recluse. Neon euphoria still shines bright, but the cabbies and nightlife enthusiasts have returned to hibernation. All that remains is the tangible totems of consumer America and sidewalk tenants.
Alioto Park is the 9th wonder of the world.
Matchbox marauders about 16th street having left its host whose pockets remain vacant. All joints have been digested. Pocket books fled to a region where minds still produce nutrients. 'Life savings' deposited into this diluted slab of concrete called a city.