Another Half-Hidden Hideaway

Now that I've reestablished that I can't say something that hasn't been said before, I'll move on.

Yes, I still have all the tools for seeing every moment that has existed and will exist but I don't want to do anything with them for my sake.

All I want to do is write in an easily-accessible place without affecting the lives of others.

So here I sit, having moved very little in the past few days, deciding the next storyline directions.

In a dream this past weekend, Dolly Parton appeared next to my wife and me.  Dolly told me in her own way that I have the courage, grit and determination to pursue my dreams, no matter what they are.

That's what I get for reading "1001 Things Everyone Should Know About The South" in the throne room (and Mario Vargas Llosa in the sunroom).

Believe nothing is real and reality becomes clearer than ever.  More clever than a cleaver, too.

As always, I am ready to die at any moment, no great cause driving me to live forever, allowing myself the simple pleasure of knowing that the species and the ecosystems upon which we depend live in relative perpetuity without me.

Jesus and Mohammed are sitting quietly next to one another, watching the world in action.

"Tell me, Jesus, what does the 'H' stand for?"

"'H'"?

"Yes.  So many people call out your full name, I just wondered what your middle initial means."

"Haha. My parents had an ironic sense of humour.  The 'H' stands for Herod."

The Buddha walks up and sits down next to them.

"What are you two up to?"

"Watching the world of people.  How about you?"

"I am contemplating..."

"The unknowable or the unthinkable?"

"Yes."

"So are we all."

Why do we not quote the humour or funny sayings of the ones we call the wisest of the wise?  If we did, we would see what our seriousness keeps us from seeing.

I live in this moment.  It's the only moment I have.  I cannot change the lives of seven billion people in this moment.  Every one of us is responsible for the change around us in the moment.

When you see that all is all, a metaphorically curious combination of words meant to evoke the image of infinity, including the profound and the ridiculous, then, if you can get over the realisation that nothing is truly new, you live a different life in the next moment.

Every subculture contains wisdom, both heavy and light.  I do not understand more than what my body understands so I accept that the unknown and unexplainable aspects of other subcultures have important wisdom to impart to me should I willingly open myself to observe them without judgement, bias or prejudice.

And from that grows an unfettered view of how unformed moments play out.

What will happen when plankton lose their sustenance?  What are the tipping points for gas concentrations in the atmosphere?  Can you see the types of living beings that thrive when states of energy rebalance?

We talk of hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen and other substances as if they're real.

When a human being no longer depends on water as the primary transportation medium, is it still human?  If all of us, as a species, had to reconfigure (i.e., reengineer) our basic makeup in order to eat, breathe and eliminate in a completely new environment (whether here on Earth or elsewhere), how do we see ourselves in relation to the wisest of the wise who existed before us (and/or after us, if you will)?

Some changes appear so gradually that we will not see them in a lifetime or many lifetimes in a row.  The ones who see the changes decide how to accommodate/assimilate the changes into the moments in which they live.

My dream's to write a palpable fable, a tale of realistic mystery.  Nothing else.  Everything that feeds the story is an element of fiction, no matter how much it appears to predict moments you've yet to live.

My fables are written for the 10-year old boy in me whose 10-year old girlfriend died and never got to enjoy the rest of life - ups and downs, joys and disappointments.  I'll never see Renee again but I can keep on writing to her over and over and over until my last thought and finger movement.

Meanwhile, the real angel in my life - my wife and companion - keeps me alive and away from the deepest despairs that wrack my body with occasional debilitating depressions.

I am not a superhero, a hero or even a great role model.  I am me.  Faulty to a fault.  Subject to mosquito bites and clinging ticks.  Sunburnt within 15 minutes.  A broke millionaire unable to touch his money, looking for a low-tech, stress-free way to make a living and keep myself out of debt.

Maybe no one will find this blog and that's all right with me.  I'll go on writing this tale of a parallel universe (using the word "universe" for those who believe in such concepts), seeing as how that's all I've got to write about in my observations of the moments in which you and I have lived together.

I'm not trying to hide.  I just want to live a low-key, anonymous life where I can enjoy my family without feeling like people are leaning over to hear my every word.  I'm not that special, I promise.  I know many things and most of them are uninteresting bits of trivia I've collected for inserting into stories.

One more time, I'll say that just because a person can build a network of associates and colleagues to nudge along the world doesn't mean the person wants to or has to, despite people claiming that's his/her specially selected destiny.  I only played along in order to write a story interesting enough for a 10-year old to read.

If the 10-year olds of the world want to use information in my stories to move this species safely along, then go for it.  Otherwise, I'm just an amateur writer who wants to see how many ways he can combine words to entertain himself, knowing the attempts will fall short of immortal perfection (not for lack of trying, of course).

It's my small way to keep myself out of trouble and out of your way, hopefully encouraging myself to believe our species can save itself from itself.  Humble as hominy grits and not nearly as delicious with butter and cheese.