I was reading my parents' will. That's how I found out they died. Someone handed me some complicated financial forms on their estate. Then I woke up. It was 7:30 in the morning and the sun was bright and silent, unearthly, coming through my window. I lay there for about ten minutes staring at the sunlight convinced both my parents were dead. The world had changed. I called them and woke them up. My mom said, "yes, its funny how dreams are, isn't it." Then she went back to sleep.
So things go on,
the feeling of facing the world of death still hangs around, like some beautiful image you wish you didn't have to leave. Which may sound strange but the sudden silence... ah what can I say? It's silence, for fuck's sake.
the gut feeling that they are gone forever, that time flows on like a big river and you too will vanish, all of your friends, every one you met or didn't meet, all these moments good and bad, and that is what I miss about watching the morning and the sudden emergence from the fog of dumblife and the precise and water-clear feeling that death is a sudden gone, and time- time in each moment of now,
time is but a flood and the modern world is no eternity, we are as much living in sandcastles as the oldtimers.
And I remember crawling in to the lodge on my hands and knees, and it was total dark in the there, here there is pitch darkness only. And they bring in the rocks one at a time, big rocks that have lain in the fire all day and are covered in ash. It was spring.
It was pitch dark and it was hot in there. It got hotter and hotter until it passed the point of bearability. And you could see nothing, just hear the discomfort and sometimes fear of those in the lodge with you... what mad, creative geniuses are we, to fashion such a thing... in the dark of nothing but pain, I saw a red glow, so dimly red that sometimes it vanished into black again, like in the beginning, and there is a reason I see why infrared is the colour of the lowest frequency of light, (light congealed is matter), infrared is the border between nothing and something. The red glow was the hearts of the rocks, the hearts of the rocks, honest, I could see through the rock into its core.
The man who spoke called the rocks the Grandfathers. We are their children. We are the children of the rocks and the trees and the sun. It was so hot I could listen but I could not think. To think one bullshit thought brought pain, but to listen brought relief. Poison began to come out of me in sweat.
When I crawled out I saw the world was beautiful in one of them days of green trees making that hiss noise of a good wind that is pushing the clouds against a big sky. If I am to die let me live with no fog.
So I tell you my friends, who one day will most likely vanish into a dawn sunrise, or may have to endure one for me, there is great love in my heart for you. You are all far better than anything I could write or any thought I could have.
yes, yes, I realize there are no jokes in this one. I apologize.