...on karma

karma: is the concept of "action" or "deed" in Indian religions understood as that which causes the entire cycle of cause and effect (i.e., the cycle called saṃsāra) originating in ancient India and treated in Hindu, Jain, Sikh and Buddhist philosophies.

The philosophical explanation of karma can differ slightly between traditions, but the general concept is basically the same. Through the law of karma, the effects of all deeds actively create past, present, and future experiences, thus making one responsible for one's own life, and the pain and joy it brings to him/her and others. The results or 'fruits' of actions are called karma-phala. In religions that incorporate reincarnation, karma extends through one's present life and all past and future lives as well.

the other day, i think it might have been monday.

yes. monday.

i was waiting for the bus so that i could pick up the bike in brooklyn after work and karaoke john, my neighbor who lived above the restaurant that i have blamed for so much of my anger at times, shuffles over to me.

well really, he's heading over to talk to the regulars who hang out in front of the deli and re-enact hanging out in front of a corner deli from when they were kids but now, they are old and they just look like a bunch of old bald guys smoking in front of a deli.

anyway

karaoke john shuffles over and i say hi because while i am a ball of white hot rage, i also try to be decent to people in the hood who are...you know...decent people. john responds back to me that he won't be my neighbor for much longer.

"rilly, where you goin'?"

"howard beach"

"was it the rent? or the noise?"

"neither. the mayor of the block is selling the place." (quick aside: the mayor of the block is the woman who owns this piece fo fresh hell next door to me and she's in everyone's business, thus, the mayor)

"rilly?"

"you should be sad, the restaurant is closing too. here's your bus"


so with my mouth agape, the bastard gets on the bus and tells john that we have to speak again on this. i was curious because there had been a sign that the restaurant was closed due to kitchen renovations which i found suspect as the place hadn't been open more than 8 years or so.


god damn. 8 fucking years. i just let that wash over me.

8 fucking years.

8 years of uncontrolled noise that was totally random.

8 years of inconsiderate drunken patrons never having the common sense to keep their drunken goodbyes to a minimum of 30 minutes.

8 years of pacing back and forth, not being able to control the ball of rage that that miserable man put in me and scared the shit out of friends and family alike.

8 years.

so much fucking hatred.

i could cry.

i am crying.


i can't believe how much time i wasted on this feeling. it kind of gives one a sense of what charles dickens was talking about when marley spoke he forged the chain that was his life link by link. and it feels heavy. i mean, hell, this was half the reason i started this stupid blog.

i needed to get it out.

i saw the fact that i was slowly self destructing and taking everything with me and i got it out. and i gave it all to you. all of you. and the bastard is a better man for it.

wow, that's a load off.

anyway, where was i?

yes.

the restaurant was closing, i went to brooklyn, rode a motorcycle back to queens and ate thai food with the chairman. the next day, my ladyfriend had bookclub so, i went straight home and, right in front of the drug store was karaoke john talking with one of the mofo's former customers from when he worked at mike's whiskey bar (another story and really, it's HIS story to tell, quite frankly) and so i rolled right up to get the rest of the deets from john.

apparently, danny (the owner and object of my disdain) hadn't paid his rent in 8 months (wow, said i).

apparently, he has pancreatic cancer as well (ouch, said i).

and apparently, he may also have multiple sclerosis (holy fucking CRAP, said i). and i really DID think these things in the parenthesis. also the kitchen renovations sign was widely believed to be a ploy to not show up as his kitchen was practically new anyway. it is rumored among the deli hanger on-ers that he's trying to sell everything in the place which now makes me wonder how long before there is a fire in the building to get the insurance money as well.

hrm.

this makes the bastard wonder if it's indeed time to move his belongings right the hell out of his apartment. stupid brain. be less paranoid.

but i digress, what i actually said out loud to karaoke john was how incredible this was on it's sheer scale and how somone who believed in such bullshit as feng shui, didn't believe in the concept of karma as well. and it got the bastard to thinking about his own karma and how, now that this cup has passed him, it is time to make his own amends to the cosmos. how, he needs to be less angry.

and don't get me wrong, i've gotten better. hell, i've been a new man for a little while now. it didn't stop me from asking a man on the train this morning if he could POSSIBLY step on my foot more than he already had already. but hey, i'm trying.

—the bastard