John Lacey
Musings From A Hotel Room
I sit in a cheap motel room and wonder if this was how Moses Shapiro felt. Of course I haven’t found scrolls (Dead Sea or otherwise). Indeed I haven’t found much of anything… and not for lack of trying I might add!
Truthfully I lay here thinking. Thinking of others as strange extensions of myself. Of would-be lovers across the seas. Of correspondence unsent, unwritten. The gulf between having what you want and wanting what you have.
I get an incredible sinking feeling when I realise, slowly, day by day, I have less idea of what it is that I do want. All I really want at this point is to feel good. But I acknowledge nervously that that’s all any alcoholic wants. All any junkie wants. All any religious fanatic wants. Surely I’m just setting myself up to be programmed by the universe. To find the very small “niche” that John A. Keel wrote about.
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