Trampoline Breath

“Faretheewell”

I had this dream once where I didn’t have to worry about what to say or what to do, it all came right to me, like nothing like water like this. The trees had dignity and the ground felt like a conveyor belt. It was blue outside. And when I woke up I cried for a million seconds. Apart of me was lost there, as it is whenever I visit a place of true love.

A plexus of irritation waits below all of this banter; there is a beer in my hand and some man singing in bel canto on a guitar made from the strings of his best friend’s dead heart. I can’t see him, but his voice reminds me of an iPod, if iPods could speak. He is singing about nothing. It’s boring as shit.

You have to sit and ask yourself at times, what the hell is wrong with people? What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? All these questions leading up to a birthday I don’t want to have, but must. Because that is what time does. Goes-that-a-way…

At the end of tonight, things will have happened that can in many ways never be repeated again in their exactitude. Where one event could have gone this way, it went that way — vice versa you get the point. No one ever wakes up and says, “Hey, pass the nothingness.” It’s the same story. It’s frightening.

Makes you want to just go home in the middle of the night. It could be in a diner across the dead of middle America, in a bathroom in some terrifyingly lonesome gas station where people forgot how to talk, or in an old backyard where you never speak of the things that happened… Anywhere. That’s where it is.

At night during the long walk back to your apartment that you share with 3 other people near a metal bridge that always twists, that’s where you live. That’s where you learned the importance of nothingness. Deep thoughts on a deep night; moonlight that cuts little pieces into you and out of you. And you get up because you never sleep anymore anyway, and look into the washable shadows on the walls around you.

And then it sets in. The whole of it all. You are there. Wondering, waiting, waiting. You have the whole world, right there, in your own senses. Those free thoughts, the ones that language doesn’t touch, can’t touch. Those sacred moments of wordless feelings…you can live for that and that only, before the calm takes you into another world of armor-plated waiting.