The cows looked so fluffy against cobalt blue skies of afternoon summer sunshine floating there in a stop motion kind of silent gaze as if my world might be paused just like theirs. Their legs just dangled there obviously theirs but somehow it seemed so unnatural, so protruding there as if I could reach up and grab their legs but even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach I reached up anyways and just as I expected, their legs were so far away. So I laid back and watched their utters, also dangling there in midair underneath the cows but not as far down as their legs and I noticed they were milking themselves giving birth to baby clouds that would float away and mature into new cows eventually so fluffy just like the others and they too became so still and tranquil. And it was one of those days where there were a lot of fluffy cows floating there piled on top of each other giving birth to one another and the sunlight was still able to shine amidst the back drop of cobalt blue skies. It was such a pretty sight that I just continued to sit back and lay there and I watched the fluffy cows float by as still as could be, without a sound, seeing to stop time and entertain me.
Friday, April 28, 2017
I sometimes miss those rainy dreary days when I’d wake up early in the morning to grey cloud filtered light, barely able to see the paper of my journal in which I’d write and I’d listen to the same music over and over again because it explained exactly how down I felt in anticipation of facing every inevitable bad day that I knew would always be the same, dragging me lower and lower nearly towards an inescapable fate. As horrible as those days were, I felt so real in the mornings contemplating what had become and where I was and what I wished for with just enough hope that someday a difference would come. My children, just babies then, would come and sit on my lap as I listened and thought and wrote sad things, sipping herbal tea through a metal straw that helped me hang on while I held on to them and the rare feeling in my world that felt right. By the time the first was older, the second came and sat on my lap just the same and I wrote more sad things in that same space under the grey cloud filtered light again as if the sun never shined but in those eyes, asking again to be held and content in that moment to be held by me is a feeling I can still remember and how it felt so right.
Thursday, April 20, 2017
On a rather boring day of a boring week in the middle of his boring life he decided he needed to do something different and so he additionally decided he needed to look for a porpoise because he heard they were plentiful in the seas but in all actuality he had never seen one in the wild. He considered his options for porpoise searching and wondered if he would need apparatuses such as rafts or row boats or motor boats. He had none of those things and began to feel his hopes of finding a porpoise drift away much like a school of porpoises swimming off in the sunset at hypersonic speeds, because he knew porpoises were fast. He resolved not to lose all hope and ran to the beach and striped off his shirt and pants and shoes and socks and ran and dove into the waves and swam out towards the horizon in search of a porpoise. In his excitement and enthusiasm he didn’t anticipate his body’s need to recover from the exertion he compelled himself towards so he stopped for what he thought would be a brief moment to catch his breath, but his mind took a brief assessment determining that his body was fatigued and relayed a message to his consciousness to take the appropriate measures. Upon the appearance of thoughts to find a place to rest he looked around himself for the shore because he knew he would need to swim back but was disheartened when he realized it was beyond sight. His mind began sending rapid fire messages to his consciousness to do something to give himself some rest, which caused a slight panic within him but he willed himself to slow down his thoughts and floated on his back while he tried to put himself in a state of mind where he could find a solution to his predicament. The shifts of waves and currents caused him to struggle and exert further energy and effort continuing to tire him when what he wanted was rest, but still he tried until he realized that in that moment what he wanted more than anything was to live. He realized he had forgotten all about finding a porpoise but he began to remember his quest to find one and thought about how his search brought him into his current circumstances. As his focus began to shift from holding onto life to finding a porpoise, his body slowed down and relaxed and sank down to the point that his face was all that remained above water, just barely able to breath, tasting drops of salty water and licking his lips. He didn’t realize it but he was compelled to only one or the other. As he thought about his desire to find a porpoise, he forgot about holding on to his life and he stopped trying. Without trying, he soon slipped under and succumbed to the weight of his exhausted body. Instinctively he held his breath and a panic began to build for search of a way to breath but then the thought of porpoises again filled his mind and he smiled underwater and it was the last thing he ever thought.
Thursday, March 30, 2017
It had been decided long ago in ancient tombs as they buried their dead, in the embryonic days of time, to forge a mechanism by which they could maintain power for themselves and their kind. They realized that desire was as strong as anything they could create on their own and so they wrapped their intentions in the folds of the fresh milky white flesh of desire and cooked their creation in the darkest hollows of the earth from where their predecessors first crawled prior to the dawn of humanity’s birth. They marveled at their creation and called it greed and were taken with its appearance because it was infinite black, knowing no limits, able to continuously devour without satisfaction and they placed it in the unsuspecting hearts a nascent people who misunderstood the greed to simply be a moral justification from beyond their own minds. The last of the ancient ones eventually died knowing the knowledge of their hand in the creation of the greed would be buried in their own tombs but they also knew that the greed had been buried in the hearts of so many and that it would go on spreading to others without end because the greed was black and without end and the people who carried it were largely lacking in the ability of self-reflection or at least that ultimate bit of self-reflection that allows one to admit that they might be wrong. While the greed went on to corrupt humanity’s interactions, causing distrust, fear and destruction, it also went on to propel humanity to great feats of civilization and technological wonder causing humanity to also marvel at itself and sacrifice forethought of consequence in favor of seemingly ever greater achievement. The ancient ones looked on from beyond the tombs where their bodies were buried with quickened vision, unencumbered by their previously finite minds, and they looked on with a fullness of vision they hadn’t previously possessed. They were pleased to observe that the blackness of greed had spread to so many in such diverse ways from the innocent and well intentioned to the most hardened and gluttonous but ultimately only advantaging an elite few who they longingly admired and originally intended as its beneficiaries. They were eventually also surprised to see a light that they had never noticed during their living days and whereas the greed was infinitely black, the light shone infinitely within as well but also radiated infinitely out and beyond itself forever, sharing a brilliance beyond anything they had ever thought to desire and it shared itself freely with all who were willing to see it or who happened to find themselves within its warmth and shine. It even displaced the greed where ever it came into contact with the greed. The only place it did not shine was within the darkest shadows of greed where some purposefully withdrew not wanting to ever know anything other than the familiarity afforded by the blackness of the greed. The ancient ones who created the greed were among those lost in the shadows, the only difference between themselves and the living being that they could observe the light as well as the dark and be conscious that the light existed and further conscious that they had never experienced the light in their lifetime. Still possessed, not only of the darkness but also of an innate desire to experience the unexperienced, their satisfaction of the accomplishment of greed soon began to share space within the realm of their own desire with the curiosity and wonder of what the light might be and they wondered what it might be like to experience the light. Their satisfaction of the greed continually diminished in the light replaced with a dissatisfaction for their inability to know the light and the tombs that forever possessed their bodies seemed also to forever enclose their existence in such small dark confines as they had not anticipated and which saddened them as infinitely as the greed they created.
Thursday, March 2, 2017
They were syrupy memories that kind of oozed down his brain slowly and seeped down deeply causing him to occasionally stop whatever it was he was doing and pay attention to each detail that made itself apparent in all dimensions of sight, sound, feeling and significance. Those dimensions coalesced together and aged so finely that they eventually began to glow causing a paralysis within him as he savored these old memories of friendships long deceased. Maybe those memories wouldn’t be so disruptive if they didn’t stand in such contrast to the watered down future that became the daily routine of his life. He wasn’t even sure if it really was his life that was so watered down or if it was just the future in general and whether those old friends were living watered down lives as well. He wondered where they were and whether their memories where nearly as thick and syrupy but while he might wonder he really didn’t want to know so he never attempted to contact them. Maybe they weren’t living as some diluted version of their younger selves and knowing that would place the blame squarely on himself for the choices he made that ultimately didn’t follow the trajectory he had begun so long ago. In the back of his mind he might actually know that the blame was his but that was too painful a truth to bring into his conscience; although, he also wondered where he went wrong. What bad advice didn’t he think through and adopted as his own because of a blind faith assumption that people knew what they were talking about? He could think of a few but it all felt too late to do anything about. He could throw out those assumptions now and in part he already did, which is why he knew he went wrong somewhere but there were too many consequences piled on top of consequences that he had to sort through before he could ever be free and from the bottom he was looking up from, it all seemed too far away to try to do anything about so he went on living his watered down life, watered down every day just a little more.
All he really wanted was the best ceviche in the world but instead he somehow ended up with piles and piles of the unwanted detritus from circumstantial consequences. Eventually it got to the point where he felt so cluttered with stuff he never even asked for or wanted that he began indiscriminately hauling thing after thing to the curb where it piled high and was obviously visible to any passersby. When he finally finished carrying the stuff out he noticed a sense of vacancy that he looked forward to enjoying. He looked at the pile of stuff and it seemed like more stuff than he had ever remembered taking possession of, as if it had expanded and multiplied once out in the open. He had hoped that people would want his unwanted things and would take them from the pile to keep as their own. He left the pile alone for a while and eventually wandered back to see if anything had been taken and to his satisfaction he noticed the pile had somewhat diminished and he felt a further satisfaction that maybe other people could use the things he wanted to get rid of. Eventually everything was gone except for some scattered papers that he thought he should pick up and put in the garbage. He picked up a few of the papers and noticed an unfamiliar bowl of average size that appeared to having something in it. He picked it up and examined it looking at it, smelling it and eventually tasting whatever it was in the bowl and it was exactly what it he thought it might be. It was ceviche and from what he could tell, and to his surprise, it was the best ceviche in the world.