chapter2
Jonas shivered as a fall gust up heaved a small tornado of leaves just behind him. The tiny whirlwind left a wake of smothered, damp grass that was further rustled over by even more endless red and yellow hued debris. The earth was hard, slightly frosted, and premeditative with the onslaught of a cold, cruel winter ensuing. Jonas felt how bitter and dank the weather was outside but he drew a source of warmth from within. Based on a few of his less than tolerable prior experiences and the fact that he had been through much worse than this current position, he soldiered on shrugging hunger, the cold weather and the fact that he had no home or sure destination. He immediately felt better and began thinking about how long it would be until spring would arrive, even though winter was still yet to come.
There was nothing coincidental about the four seasons that composed the intentions of a single year. Nor was there anything coincidental about Jonas being at that exact location at that precise time with a determined purpose. Spring was rebirth and summer was life just as fall was an infliction and winter was death. Jonas was a means and the door of 216 Fifth Street was an end.
Everything, in its commonly peculiar way, was just as it should or should not have maybe or perhaps not have been. It was in this light, yielding to the loose and hazy chaos surrounding him, that Jonas felt divinity and solace, comfort, at its most clutching moment. He would sooner conduct conversation with a tree than confide in a priest. He would rather read Emerson on a patch of clovers than go to a church. And, aside from his dissident interpretation of organized religion and its questionable history, Jonas believed in a God and a way of life that was bejeweled with gems of thought that few others seemed to find any value in.
He was a spiritual man who contemptuously despised religion. He was a humanitarian who understood that charity was the worst possible thing to give to anybody. He belonged to nothing that claimed to have substance or power, except for his temporary jobs. They granted him sustenance and various roofs over his head, but he still felt violated for having to perform even the most menial of tasks for such uninspiring men and the corporate machines they were gears of. Jonas was always on the move. In a farcical manner he behaved the way other people expected he should when it was necessary only so they would leave him alone and not draw attention to him. He had no interest in long-term commitments or faith in any one thing. He had no pride in ownership or shame in poverty. Jonas, no matter which direction the currents of life pulled or pushed him, had only one concern and that was to watch the colors change.
Jonas, when challenged, penetrated those around him with an intimidating look of honesty and simplicity. Often mistaken for sarcasm, the look in his eyes forced others to think before they spoke or to say nothing at all. His thoughts in any given conversation were well articulated and his words were sophisticated and diverse; however, what made Jonas appear to be illuminated in respect to the gloom that surrounded him was his honest and simple belief that he knew nothing. Of life, of history, of religion, of facts and untruths, Jonas Martin Cassidy proudly admitted to himself that he knew nothing. Regardless of how many books or newspapers he had ever read, how far back in history his mind had delved, or how many religions he had studied, he realized one day as a summation of his efforts to learn as much as he could, that he knew nothing. A point in anything seemed elusive yet he found everything to be perfectly necessary. He believed in disbelief and this worked well for him.
Because he came to terms with this curious truth he chose to deliberately exploit the fact rather than hide behind its awkward reality by capriciously owning objects he did not need and owing worthless debt he had no desire to pay so that he could appear to be somebody who he was not. Jonas sensed early on that there was an imbalance of priorities that existed in everything that was Human. It had much to do with power and money, both of which concepts have been emblazoned upon Man’s most inner precepts since the first traces of human civilization.
Generally, people in this country either have more than they need or they have more than they want. If a person has more than they need then they have too much. Having too much creates fleeting and sparse feelings of guilt, but only every once in a while. These feelings of guilt are easily diverted by purchasing more things, which in turn alleviates the doubt that anything is wrong at all. When people become so easily persuaded and disillusioned as to believe that purchasing overpriced appliances and electronics in excess or financing unaffordable vehicles or homes, which they know will only put them at a financial disadvantage for years to come, becomes a measure of character, soul and integrity, something is wrong.
If a person has more than they want then they, also, have too much. However, these people do not suffer from guilt. They are completely apathetic to those around them who have much less and they intend to keep things that way, while convincing people otherwise. The masses of those who ungraciously have more than they need constantly praise and desire to be like those who have more than they could ever want. Allowing this absurd goal to pummel their pockets and fetter their futures with fear and greed, only expressing blurry glimpses of moral discontentment within the silence of their own homes, they strive to become the enemy that they are so envious of.
Jonas had an inclination that others felt this same way, too. But there seemed to be more allure for others to simply blend into society and its programmatic ways. Every few weeks or couple months people seemed to get the sudden urge to sporadically buy a CD, unnecessary home décor, uselessly elaborate electric appliances, a new computer because the one they got nine months before was apparently obsolete, or a new high definition television with surround sound just because the one they had was a couple inches smaller and the newer model was a few decibels louder. And once the purchase was made everything became all right again, at least for a while. They had succeeded in occupying themselves for a couple hours and it had made them feel important to make a purchase. What they had missed from the beginning when they had found themselves alone, sitting with nothing to do, impatient, bored, and desperate to not have to be forced to think about the most simple and obvious of natural thoughts, was the idea that everything just might have been wrong. And the reason they couldn’t sit still was because they knew they were a part of the problem.
What separated Jonas’ cloaked intelligence from the others was the fact that they seemed to think they knew everything and that if they ever doubted themselves they could simply medicate their arrogance with commodity purchases and the financings of unaffordable objects. Jonas, on the other hand, had thrown away everything he owned long ago to begin searching for something he was fairly certain he would never find: a reason to join society. His largest obstruction was the unwritten law that one could not join society; one had to blend into society. Jonas did not look at himself as a soluble ingredient for a social elixir.
Jonas had no available answers for the most minute of philosophical dilemmas, but he would utterly and accurately disprove any idea set forth by another. He could find no meaningful reasons for the movements he made in one direction or the other on any particular day, but he was determined to keep making them. And he lived by one single creed, which encapsulated his uncertainties in certain terms. Where there are problems one will always find solutions and where there are solutions one will always find problems. Even he knew this and he knew nothing.
1,447.9 miles to go.
