Freed from the restraints of meaning, I proceed out into the Universe unabated
I’ve got no picture postcards,
I’ve got no souvenirs
***
Nothing to live or die for/No religion too
Don’t get any big ideas. They’re not going to happen.
***
Stuff
I don’t know enough of it
The End
***
A beautiful girl can turn your world to dust. Sometimes I look at her in the rear-view mirror and see her gazing out the window. I wonder about what she is thinking, her synapses firing at an indeterminable rate. I wonder if it was the same thoughts I had, and perhaps we all have: flying, falling, slicing through rock and hills with our hand-scythes, wondering what things look like, layers peeled, on the insides.
***
1 A.M. Flashlights danced. Some giggling and brisk conversations above me. The chill of the water hit my feet as I stepped down the ladder at the end of the dock. Exhale. The muck in the end-of-summer shallows was to be avoided at all costs. Paddling on the surface, swimming out. Lake homes’ reflections on lake. Rolling on my back looking finally to the less-polluted heavens. The remnants of the Martian near miss stole the show. Three shooting stars and, my God, the Real Milky Way above me to the West finished the show. The chill and the muck brought me back to the flashing of lights and libation-induced laughs from the dock. The warmth of my towel. Sweatshirt back on. Mind finally cleared of The One Thing I Wanted to Do Tonight (I’m 30 for Christ’s sake).
Before I turned, the stars reflecting on the smooth surface left me with something new to dream about when my happy head finally hit the pillow.
Last night I realized (again?) that I’m going to die. And it made me sad to think that I won’t be around to see how any and all things progress to their ultimate ends. Even in my own city. It came from reading the Sunday paper – an article about the city where I live is potentially heading in the next 30 years. Yes, given a healthy existence and no 16-wheelers to run me over, I should be around to see 2033, but I was talking about AFTER.
It’s kind of like when Rae doesn’t want to go to bed. She’s afraid she’ll miss something … I can remember that feeling growing up and I suppose it’s the same for dying.
On another note, I had my first Ironman Triathlon nightmare on Saturday night. I finished the swim in a comfortable split, but couldn’t find my bike right away, and neither could the volunteers. I looked down at my watch after getting to talking to people (Lynn, family, etc.) and I had been in transition for over an hour and a half.
I guess that means all is well with the world and I’m right on track for my goals.
