The trouble with telling it on the mountain
I venture out at red dawn.
This little schoolboy determinedly shuffles his way to the future, gingerly hanging on to his big sister's hand. The sun has begun its slow ascent to the heavens in the horizon beyond them painting the illusion of their own emergence from the darkness. Schoolboy falls back, momentarily escaping the grasp of his nonchalant sibling, instinctively cautious of the attention seeking light. But big sister knows best; ignoring his hand now, she grabs hold of his schoolbag and drags poor schoolboy into the mirage of spectacular illumination.
What is light if the road astray be lit?
Weeks off my medication and it becomes clear to me that here is where i want to be. Wandering through this concrete-free jungle, waiting to be mauled by my own misadventures. Civil unrest abound, a city populated with poverty. And the dust... in mushroom clouds of dust and doubt. Yes, certainly where i want to be. Only -and this merely a light inconvenience- but not how i want to be.
Who was Sweet Coraline?
Will i ever know? An angel sent to piece me back together? Or the love of my life, divine but mortal? Sent to get me through and if through then for what and for whom?! I am confounded by this enigma, consumed by every dream and every delusion. Driven from immortality to insanity. All for what? But He does not answer for i should not ask. Who am i to question so loving a Father? Yet still why, why, WHY? My faith is at risk.
This hill is as steep as it seems endless. The mighty sun rests heartily in its berth now but has not yet punched in for the day so the morning air is still crisp and moist. I must rest; I crouch by the side of the road to catch my breath. The world around me has begun to come to life. A not so desperate housewife sweeps a pile of dust into a larger pile of dust in her front yard, hoping to find some fulfillment in her cloud of doubt.
We are kindred spirits.
Her broom stroke is wide and strong but there is no energy behind it. Her back gracelessly hunched over, her face more focused on the dirt ground than is necessary. Barren, i assume. Her sympathetic husband's reassuring kiss on the cheek as he leaves for work confirms it. "I love you regardless." I wonder if she hears this. And if she doesnt, why go on sweeping? Is it a leap of faith or a question of keeping up appearances? I need to understand it.
Cora, Cora, Cora! Was that even her real name? Will happiness without her ever be the same? Or even possible? After my "episode" a bunch of people came to see me. Mostly my family, well most of the ones that dont hate me, friends, some others that mistakenly presume to be friends.... everybody. Everyone except her. I'd stare at the bedroom door, hoping to telepathically woo her into coming to see me but apparently lacking the cosmic energy to do so. Waiting for a bus that was never coming.
At last i reach the summit. I make it a point not to to look over the edge of the cliff; not yet. I must savor this moment. this pre-climactic orgasm of anticipatory achievement. This is where i want to be; standing on the edge of the world, happiness and true accomplishment within my grasp. She should be here with me. You should be here for me.
I open my eyes.
Reality couldnt be any clearer. I look down on the rest of these mortals from the summits above and see ants in a liberated colony. Free with no idea of what to do with their freedom. The air has never been fresher, the warmth of the sun just starting to seep through. Do any of them know? We work, we push, we march, we seek.... but here at the summit, the answers dont even matter. The world is simply a bigger place than we will ever be able to comprehend. So the rules, the routines, the norms.... yes, they do apply in the real world. But in the scale of things, they are not what matters.
She once said to me, "forever and ever and ever and ever...."
I open my eyes.
This little schoolboy determinedly shuffles his way to the future, gingerly hanging on to his big sister's hand. The sun has begun its slow ascent to the heavens in the horizon beyond them painting the illusion of their own emergence from the darkness. Schoolboy falls back, momentarily escaping the grasp of his nonchalant sibling, instinctively cautious of the attention seeking light. But big sister knows best; ignoring his hand now, she grabs hold of his schoolbag and drags poor schoolboy into the mirage of spectacular illumination.
What is light if the road astray be lit?
Weeks off my medication and it becomes clear to me that here is where i want to be. Wandering through this concrete-free jungle, waiting to be mauled by my own misadventures. Civil unrest abound, a city populated with poverty. And the dust... in mushroom clouds of dust and doubt. Yes, certainly where i want to be. Only -and this merely a light inconvenience- but not how i want to be.
Who was Sweet Coraline?
Will i ever know? An angel sent to piece me back together? Or the love of my life, divine but mortal? Sent to get me through and if through then for what and for whom?! I am confounded by this enigma, consumed by every dream and every delusion. Driven from immortality to insanity. All for what? But He does not answer for i should not ask. Who am i to question so loving a Father? Yet still why, why, WHY? My faith is at risk.
This hill is as steep as it seems endless. The mighty sun rests heartily in its berth now but has not yet punched in for the day so the morning air is still crisp and moist. I must rest; I crouch by the side of the road to catch my breath. The world around me has begun to come to life. A not so desperate housewife sweeps a pile of dust into a larger pile of dust in her front yard, hoping to find some fulfillment in her cloud of doubt.
We are kindred spirits.
Her broom stroke is wide and strong but there is no energy behind it. Her back gracelessly hunched over, her face more focused on the dirt ground than is necessary. Barren, i assume. Her sympathetic husband's reassuring kiss on the cheek as he leaves for work confirms it. "I love you regardless." I wonder if she hears this. And if she doesnt, why go on sweeping? Is it a leap of faith or a question of keeping up appearances? I need to understand it.
Cora, Cora, Cora! Was that even her real name? Will happiness without her ever be the same? Or even possible? After my "episode" a bunch of people came to see me. Mostly my family, well most of the ones that dont hate me, friends, some others that mistakenly presume to be friends.... everybody. Everyone except her. I'd stare at the bedroom door, hoping to telepathically woo her into coming to see me but apparently lacking the cosmic energy to do so. Waiting for a bus that was never coming.
At last i reach the summit. I make it a point not to to look over the edge of the cliff; not yet. I must savor this moment. this pre-climactic orgasm of anticipatory achievement. This is where i want to be; standing on the edge of the world, happiness and true accomplishment within my grasp. She should be here with me. You should be here for me.
I open my eyes.
Reality couldnt be any clearer. I look down on the rest of these mortals from the summits above and see ants in a liberated colony. Free with no idea of what to do with their freedom. The air has never been fresher, the warmth of the sun just starting to seep through. Do any of them know? We work, we push, we march, we seek.... but here at the summit, the answers dont even matter. The world is simply a bigger place than we will ever be able to comprehend. So the rules, the routines, the norms.... yes, they do apply in the real world. But in the scale of things, they are not what matters.
She once said to me, "forever and ever and ever and ever...."
I open my eyes.
posted by R. Wagaba at 8:43 PM
