Thursday, May 28, 2009

Four Corners.

I'm floating on the ocean. I've got plenty of time to think. If I can let myself relax, if I can step back and see that against all the odds, with no sight of land, that I am still afloat, then I am able to let my heart expand over this vast emptiness and feel not think, breathe not beat, understand not see. Time, you see, is only the moment, never the dream. And understanding that, I can be present. The boat we held has been lost and now it is hard to remember if it was a boat at all. Hold on to something long enough and you can make it anything you desire. But let it go, let it go, frightened and alone, no more wishes, or expectations, no more needing, no more humanity to weigh you down, you are now liberated to sink or swim of your own volition. Isn't that the ultimate freedom? Being in a position to choose whether or not society, or economy, or relationships, or insanity are to be taken as reality? Can you not choose which is real for you? So I lie on the ocean, at any rate, and the Universe grows smaller yet closer with every reality I shed. I think, why was it my sense of humour that had to go first? I would have liked to share a joke with myself before it left. And as the moon pies its way across the sky I sense an altogether different joke. One I am yet to understand.


I am in a Bus Shelter. It's cold. I have no jacket, though I have new shoes. A charitable gift, so my feet will no longer suffer the damp embarrassment I have subjected them to for a week now. I'm sitting in a bus stop smoking and looking as though I have somewhere to go, the bus you see, an interview, an embrace, a meal, but really it's the shelter and this cigarette which I cherish. This present stretches out for eternity and I miss the calm of the sea. The bus comes. People look at me as though I am first in line but I remain seated in the shelter and watch as they scuffle and grunt their way on board. A young school girl stares blankly at me through the window and I smile at her. But the bus flatulates and moans and carries her away and we stare a slow goodbye until it has gone. This is the winter I had feared.


I'm in a bar. The man opposite me is tired and nervous and smokes my cigarettes and I smile at him and we talk of all the things that have been and the status of our friends. It seems there are more down than up. I order two more beers and in this moment I am strong. Strong for this man, I can listen, I can be present, I can empathise and strategise and the only thing my broken soul can't do is actualise. I am hoping this is enough. I am hoping when a man, this man is not the first man, says, if I make it that far, or, it's not looking good, that he is merely verbalising the helplessness that can be found in the bottom of a glass of beer. I try and forget that I am looking for a man to listen to me. I try and be a friend and that way, I know, I will cure myself of my own worries, if only for a moment. I will be a Giver. And I have clearly understood in my life, that Givers are far happier than Takers. Though Takers always believe if they take enough, they will find happiness. So I am a Giver, in this moment, though my heart cries out for all it can take, though it can take no more.


I'm in a lounge room. Through necessity I am a Taker. Though I try and hide my taking through apologies and manners and any odd job that presents itself. I say, excuse me, and please allow me, and I try to make my body so small that I am almost a pet, a stray in from the cold, who is tolerated so long as it doesn't break the rules. And there is a bowl of food and a blanket and a kind word, and it's okay to be a pet if you are in a house of Pet Lovers. So I lie by the heater and pretend to sleep, like all pets do, and my ears twitch every time I hear a familiar word, but I keep my eyes closed and I let my mind envision the surprises that tomorrow might bring. Will it be a cage, or against all the odds, might I even be returned to the wild?


I am nowhere and nothing and secretly,
I never wanted anything more.

But I will try to learn to want more.

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