1) A God. A real God. Any color, bearded, buxom, or otherwise will do.
2) That I never got this high up on the evolutionary ladder. I miss my shell. I miss the slime that oozed forever. I miss the darkness of the calciferous haven. The cool of it. The isolation. The loneliness. The sacred escapes.
3) That I could be a Star. A Lone Star. That hangs up there, away from everywhere. It doesn't feel giddy at all. It's too far away from everywhere to know that it is, in fact, away. It's loved because its away. Because it's never there. Just.
I am sleepy.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Monday, August 06, 2007
Bus Stand
I am stranded at a bus stand. It has yellow painted iron tools. I don't want to sit down. I am standing here looking for a bus. Or pretending I am. I know I will never get up on a bus. But I like this. Straining my eyes to see when a bus is coming. And then people darting forward. For that window seat. For that rod by the door. For that girl in blue. For the sake of years of darting forward...of dead habits.
People come and go. While I wait. I don't really. I pretend. I just like the feeling. Of waiting for the bus. Or pretending to wait for a bus. Or pretending to pretend to wait for a bus. I like specially that part when the bus whooshes past me. Leaves me standing. Waiting for another bus. Or thinking that I am. When I am not, really.
And while I stand here, I see all kinds of people. I am surprised most of them don't really like waiting for a bus. They are just here to get the bus. And I figure the buses don't care too much about people waiting for them either.
Some times it will rain for hours. And people take shelter here. All the time worrying about getting late for their parties, offices, dates, dentist's appointments. They hate waiting. And then when the sun comes out, the long road shines like a silver ribbon. It hurts to even look at it. Its beautiful. The road. The ribbon.
People come and go. While I wait. I don't really. I pretend. I just like the feeling. Of waiting for the bus. Or pretending to wait for a bus. Or pretending to pretend to wait for a bus. I like specially that part when the bus whooshes past me. Leaves me standing. Waiting for another bus. Or thinking that I am. When I am not, really.
And while I stand here, I see all kinds of people. I am surprised most of them don't really like waiting for a bus. They are just here to get the bus. And I figure the buses don't care too much about people waiting for them either.
Some times it will rain for hours. And people take shelter here. All the time worrying about getting late for their parties, offices, dates, dentist's appointments. They hate waiting. And then when the sun comes out, the long road shines like a silver ribbon. It hurts to even look at it. Its beautiful. The road. The ribbon.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Have heard this song before. It came back to me with new thoughts yesterday. Adds some sense, to the senselessness all around. The sense in the senselessness. Here goes:
I'm the world you'll never see
I'm the slave you'll never free
I'm the truth you'll never know
I'm the place you'll never go
I'm the sound you'll never hear
I'm the course you'll never steer
I'm the will you'll not destroy
I'm the gin in the gin-soaked boy
I'm the half-truth in the lie
I'm the why not in the why
I'm the last roll of the die
I'm the old school in the tie
I'm the spirit in the sky
I'm the catcher in the rye
I'm the twinkle in her eye
I'm the jeff goldblum in the fly
Who am i?
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