Sipping the Line

 

Trapped against logic: the weather of human is what remains. Tones of grief we balanced in the walking, this photograph is part memory. The way childhood coalesces so even damage gets shaved down to a fine grit. You can take it up inside you in any manner of ways, hold tight the drawn over time feelings of regret and nostalgia. But to what end. To what end is the point of history except to rewrite, the point of remembering except to get it wrong. Love isn’t really an experience you can measure in time though they’ll lie to sell you dates and anniversaries. They don’t want you to realize love is happening every moment. It’s the way light enters all that we see. Even beyond eyes, light pierces all and if you think love is any different, maybe you need to listen.

 

 

 

 

being human is very important. being human is the consciousness with which the universe sees itself. if being human is very important, why does the universe not take more notice. if being human is important, why don’t we take it more seriously. do we take it too seriously. are we the universe in neglect. are we the universe in earnest.

 

i learned how to drink scotch in san ramon, costa rica when i was nineteen years old in a small bar where i met an elderly white man who was an expat now living outside the town for some twenty years, estranged from his family. we talked about rudyard kipling. he recited a poem from memory and we talked about life and time. he invited me to his house in the rain forest and we rode horses. when he mounted his horse, it threw him. he probably seemed older because i was so young. when you are a nineteen year old girl, men usually only want to hurt you i had learned. or i had not learned yet enough because i went with him anyway to the middle of nowhere but i have always survived by scent and he smelled harmless. once we were wolf cubs. once we were lizards. once we were hibernating in the dusty motes of space. what i am saying is every story is a myth. all of this true and always happening and so none of it is true and never happening. what i am saying is many things have happened to me as many things have happened to you. and at the end of the day, outside of entertainment, none of it matters. nothing ever stops happening.

 

if one hallucinates, one is said to be suffering from a mental anomaly.

 

but what we really mean is: If you perceive reality far from the collective, you are a type of dangerous to the flimsy threads of perception holding up the castle

 

you threaten to pull it all down around us.

 

what would you do first to collapse reality with intention.