If I think about the world as a unit, with racing cloudcover and weather patterns blurring one into the other like someone pushing on a radio dial, and the sun up on one side while the moon cools the other, and if I think about history how it chews(more) forward like time is only something to be eaten, and if I think about people I love and how there have always been people who've been loved and how it doesn't protect them, I grow very sick.
Today is one of those days. I have to be very careful in every little thing I do. At work, the bare basics of my responsibilities seem unreal. I might fly away if I try and walk across the room without thinking first about my destination.
In a fog I carry loaded trays from the dining room to the kitchen back-and-forth, back-and-forth, a lick of sweat at the small of my back just where there's an ache forming.
The old Hobart steams like a dragon, eating dirt, emiting scaldingly clean dishes in rackfuls.
What am I doing and am I only here to clean dishes, clean up dirt, clean up after people in our senseless veering forward? The notion of our collective helplessness makes me smile.
I'm still smiling at lunch time, at the staff meeting where management orders pizza to bribe people in when they could vanish instead for 30 mins., there's a lot you can do in that spell to distract yourself. Smoke a joint, walk in the park, look at junkies and feel comparatively better off.
I can't stop smiling although I feel so small, a mouthful of cold pizza (the deliveryman got lost), my legs crossed, one girl, one world, one universe, and everything passing by at a sad distance.(less)
The complex was so sprawling and ancient that we knew it had to be important. Important enough, at any rate, to drag a team of respected anthropologists from all corners of the globe to a desert in Turkey for the greater part of the next 15 years.
(more) It was easy-going at first. The most recent building epoch consisted of a ring of megalithic stones, roughly 15 feet in height. Despite their rich and unusual carvings, the method of their construction was not unlike the work of other peoples known to have inhabited the area. Carbon dating of stone tools suggested that the site was constructed by a previously undiscovered ancestor culture. An absolutely monumental discovery on its own.
A comprehensive geological survey confirmed that beneath this layer were at least three more stone rings, older and larger than the last. The largest of the stones in this period was roughly 115 tons, pushing the boundary of the archaeological achievements of the ancient world. The stonework was breathtaking, and unmistakably superior to the monument which had been built on top of it thousands of years later. It was baffling. This was the kind of discovery that could push back the timetable on our evolution as a species several millenia.
It was only after 13 years of excavation that we became aware of the third layer. It was impossible to tell, but early indications suggested that it was massive, about 100 feet deep of clean-cut monolithic stone spread over a square mile. We were all dumbfounded. It was like these people had just emerged from the bedrock, fully formed. But we would keep digging backward in time until there was nowhere left to go. After all, how we can possibly know where we're going if we don't know where we came from?(less)
I use to work in a convalescent home. Mostly I tried to keep a friendly demeanor with a thick emotional wall between me and the ones I cared for.
But then there was Ira B. Ira was a tall and sturdy man. His age couldn't hide the fac(more)t that he was, at one time, a very handsome and active man.
According to Ira's chart, his Alzheimer's began manifesting itself when he was only fifty years old. By the time I met him he was seventy-one and in the late stages of the disease. Yet I swear to this day, there were moments I could swear he was lucid. In those lucid moments, Ira and I had memorable coherent conversations. Then there were the times when he claimed I was an angel sent from God to take care of him in his time of need. Most times, Ira sat silent. His large eyes, dull and empty, staring off into space as I fed him liquefied carrots.
I always knew when Ira was showing signs of lucidity. His eyes seemed to turn on.
He would whisper, "Hello."
"Hello, Ira B." I would say, "It's really good to see you again."
"You too." He would tell me.
I wold ask him to tell me about his younger days. So he would. Week days of hard work, weekends filled with fishing and hiking. He told me about the day he met the love of his life, his late wife. The day he welcomed his son into the world. Which was the "Happiest day of his life".
Then the confusion would begin to set in.
"You're leaving again, Ira. Where are you going?"
His voice was distant, "Nowhere, my angel. Just becoming nothing in no place particular."(less)
This map doesn't tell you anything you need to know...
This map won't take you any places that you need to go...
But this map gets you there in a hurry
This map gets you there without a worry
(more) This map... ohhh... this map!(less)
I lost my direction when I was following a yellow pyrite fool that was using a map to nowhere. Guessing each stop with a roll of my ivory eyes we often landed on snakes in olive branch disguise. Swirled in circles by a spoon in the road, I reversed course(more) and lost the fool in a poppy seeded abode. My faithful leap landed on this road of pebbles that often isn't polished smooth, yet it comes with scenery of golden metaphors and channeled love as the view. (less)