Thursday, March 4, 2010


I wake up from a dream. I hear, I feel, I taste, I cringe. I twirl around and fall and pick myself up. I'm always falling and picking myself up. Sun heats up my face and the moon cools it off. I long, I dislike, I hurt. I confuse illusion with truth. And I sit, I stare into the distance. I yell. I scream. No one hears. I walk ahead but turn around. I'm distracted. I distract. I remember. I forget. Then, I remember again. I connect. I want. I need. I want nothing and need nothing. My mind contradicts. My feelings lie. My intuition tells the truth. I'm unequipped. I carry every tool. But I'm unequipped. So, I sit and I stare into the distance, the sun heating my face. And I turn again and the wind whips past. The water startles me. I take a step forward. I turn back again. Nothing but mountains and clouds, more mountains and clouds. The water speaks. I'm reminded. I move in a little closer. I'm okay. I'm not okay. This is good. This is not good. The old me laughs. The new me cries. It's unfair. I am unfair.

A muffled sound reaches me from behind. I think. I'm sure. I can't make out the sound. I don't turn around. Not this time. I keep walking forward. The water and I know each other. The sun gets jealous. I'm furious. I say, Back off, but I'm unheard. I say, Slow down, but I lack meaning. My legs feel heavy. The rain arrives painting everything grey. I smile. I frown. And smile again. I'm good. I'm bad. I sin. I don't sin. I'm kind. I give. I take. I'm weak. I look up. I look down. I ask the world what it wants. It whispers. I can't hear. The scene changes. I want more water. I'm afraid. I'm not afraid.

A little girl asks, What are you looking for? I say, The book, the book. I think of Nick Cave when he yells, The plot, the plot. She asks, What's the title? I panic, I don't know. I don't know! I see people behind a faint curtain. Turbans and garments, soft creams and whites. I'm hot. I'm cold. I'm safe. I'm floating. And he says, Don't place too much importance. It's just music. He isn't real. He lies. I let him. I see the instrument. I like. I detest. I'm drawn. I'm indifferent. It wants to be played. But I'm unequipped. I'm a fool. I'm no magus. And I stare, look ahead, think back. I analyze. I cut. I dissect. Like a sword.

I'm empty. I search. I ignore. I notice. I care. I don't care. I'm curious. I lack substance. I absorb. I saturate. My heart wells up. Like a cup. I fill. I pour. I fill. I pour. I let go. I hold on. And I remember that I've forgotten. I'm a child. I'm a woman. I'm somebody. I'm nobody. And the water comes rushing in like a river. I'm consumed. I'm swallowed. I'm small. Insignificant. I feel. I feel. I feel. I'm confused. I confuse. I see blues, greens, and purples. I think, Take me. Take me along your contours. Just do it. And then, Throw me away. Spit me out. I don't mind. Because I belong to the earth. Maybe one day, I'll belong to the realms above. Maybe. Maybe. But for now, I'll have to settle.

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