You pick things up at way stations and highway sides. Many are the men and women who pass that way, and many are the traces they leave. Doodads, knickknacks, odds and ends — all the residue accumulates and percolates through time’s sieve. Then you pass by, pick it up, and it enters your skull through the pineal gland. Here, we’ve gathered some of these found objects, some of this gold, in a collection of sayings by madmen, gypsy queens, druids, and road warriors. “Proverbs from the Road” was compiled with the help of Dr. Medical, Barrister Floyd, Beat Peakman, and Structuremensch the III — among many others lost to memory and time. As with The Upanishads:
They were not builders of systems. Nowhere must we expect to find the whole truth gathered together. Never were ideas set down with less regard for convenience.
Proverbs from the Road
Now that everything else is in order, let us begin. Everything you do, do it lightly. Paths have a way of leading somewhere, things a way of balancing themselves out. Coyotes are the real winners in America. A romantic in the rising, a cynic under the sun, a mystic beneath the moon. Enough is not very much. Basically, it’s a circle. You and I both know, but best not talk about it very much. There is a way, but is there a will? It will get more ratty before it gets less ratty. “When you asked how I was doing / was that some kind of joke?” The longer you sit still, the further you travel. Just pay attention. Every face is an image of you. A little dirt in the coffee’s okay after a few days, a twig or two is nice in rice. Long looks bring people near; easy smiles drive off the faithless. Never pass on laundry. Basically, it’s all a gradient. Maps get you there quickly, but following the signs gives you time. The fewer the better – but also, double it. In the desert fill up on water, in the mountains remember wood, on the coast bring money. Better to dance around the secret than to pin it wriggling. A gas station is an extreme kind of cornucopia. Observe silence, the phases of the moon, and the proper burial rites. Grinding is sending. Impatience is the ego’s handmaiden. Fill the gourd and drink it, but when you refill, pass it along. Speed limits are meant to be broken, plans to be changed. Smiles have traveled a long way. As the narrow path grows narrower, it’s easier to make out. To see a sunrise is to be reborn, but to see a sunrise, you gotta get up outcha tent. Drive till the tank’s empty. A stranger’s kindness is the highest good. There’s nothing you can do. Every time you take a step, everything changes. The more you optimize your tech, the more appealing your boy’s tech becomes. Peeing is a sensual act (Corollary: No one’s ever offed themselves while taking a piss). Basically, everything’s sinusoidal. Order buffalo wings when you get the chance. Inhabit the mystery, settle into the center, take up residence in the secret. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Keep your cool around police, scientology receptionists, and Airbnb hosts. When you drive, drive; when you shotgun, nav and deejay; when in the backseat, grind. If you haven’t passed a gas station for a while, there’s one coming up. If you’re asking, you’re already lost (the answer is unspeakable). Do it. Better to cruise in the right lane than the left, but pass on whichever side you need to. It’s hard saying not knowing. Every exit has its temptations. Ranch water’s better than no water. Trees and rocks are unimpeachable. The way station is the road and the road the way station. Gratitude redounds upon itself. Speak too soon and all is lost, speak too late and nothing is gained. Basically, everything’s inhale, exhale. In the dawning email, in the day Google Maps, in the night a place with no reception. The world is an extravagant, close-looped toilet. Oysters are the mushrooms of the sea. The universe marches in time to music. If you want it from someone else, it’ll depend who you ask. It’s all just standing silent witness to acts of heroism in the dead of night. The fewer the plans, the closer you get. By day the road, by night the fire. Zero is one is infinity. We’d highly recommend it.
Happy soon-to-be fall to everyone in the northern hemisphere! May Delta dwindle with our daylight hours. For more Dispatches like this one, check out these photo essay prose poem things: