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A long time ago I received an invite to a birthday party. I really wanted to go and marked my calendar. I waited a very long time and lost my calendar. I remembered it was close to some other celebration but exactly when was hard to pinpoint. Never-the-less I got my self a birthday suit like no other I have ever had. It fit me quite well, even if a bit tight in some places. It was used and a little worn but looked new. Should I have gotten a new one, even if the cost was more than I could afford? In principle that might have been the proper method, but I'm particular and getting a new birthday suit that would fit was risky at best. They don't even look good until they've worn a few years. Birthday suits can be difficult to find. I was ready but there didn't seem to be any way to tell when the party would begin. There was no one else here that knew about the party. Sure everyone knew about the celebration, the party apparently was a secret of some sort.
I waited 40 years. Some I met heard about the party but I began to suspect I had leaked the information by asking about the party during those 40 years. The natives were clever and smart creatures but so very few were able to imagine and conjure. Even fewer ventured out into the nothing. It was backwards in the strangest way. Compelling and nearly real as far as I could tell. Was I the only one here for the party? Was I too early? Information is not reliable. This place can weave thoughts into reality, taking metaphors and turning them into life. My own thoughts were now intermingled with this place. Despair wasn't an option. I couldn't return the suit without paying a re-stocking charge. I settled on futile. It felt better than hopeless. Spinning my wheels was better than waiting or so I thought.
I produced an enormous volume of words, notes, and pixels, arranged and organized to evoke some idea or concept. I scatter much of it to the winds of electrons traveling through space and time. Some I keep to myself, like a fine wine, only to be shared with the closest of friends. Futile it seems no less. My future self remains silent. I only hear the quiet.
By morning of the day after, I slip, to fall into the forever, tumbling now and then catching a glimpse. A flicker light moment etched into the now, drawn by some over zealous particle of time. Ever willing to perform the sublime moment by moment. It wasn't mine. I had nothing to do with time. God only knows who let time out of the bottle. That means, only a creature insane enough to be God would let time out. The party was supposed to be here now in the middle of nowhere. I am sure of it. Futility is just a word I am sure of that.
The party might have been canceled or I might be a million years too early. I don't usually miss by that much and I'm sure if it was canceled, I would have gotten a notice. I can't help feeling sometimes like I'm the only one who cares about life and everything, the way I do. In love with everything, yet unable to actually touch anything directly. The atoms in you never touch the atoms in me. The best I could hope for was sharing. Sharing an electron here and there. Until we can do it forever. There's no beginning to end. Ideas come and go as do eternities. Some days it feels like I can't see right, tumbling still. I make out a face or two. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of the Shy One. I love you. Draw me near, hold me still, I love you. All that might ever be was just that. Might ever be back?
Years pass moment by moment each filled with time. I encoded my thoughts and replaced the time with their content. After 40 years I had learned a lot about this space and time. More than I may have wanted but most of it sublime. You see I have no memory except what is in my mind. So what I learn must be true and there all the time. I use equations and concepts that anyone can find. Even if you are blind.
First you have to find the fountain. The fountain is glorious. Majestic in its reach. Drops of time shower and cascade. Like a motion picture, space and time play out in the foam. There if you were to reach, you will find a piece of my mind. I can not imagine how it got there. But for me it is out of reach.
It was an unusual evening, nothing was the same, not even the sounds. Music was playing like never before. I got to hear it like it was performed, the sounds of reality, spinning its stories. Finding meaning in words not found before. It was a magical time on planet earth. Technology and sophistication grew exponentially. Those who rode the waves told of a new and perhaps spectacular new world that was just a few beats aways. We gathered our simple ways and tucked them into the cubby holes of our lives. While I was still here I thought why not join the celebration? We all grabbed the seat of our pants and held on for life.
It looked deserted, just a faint outline on the canyon floor of countless footsteps tracing a circle. Someone named Fred touched a rock and it began to glow, softly and warmly. He handed it to one of the celebrants, who began to glow, before long the celebrant touched us all. Our Bodies began to glow. I could tell something was happening but couldn't seem to participate. My body was certainly involved. Unlike the others, my body stopped glowing after a few moments. I tried to duplicate the experience. After 40 years of practice and experimentation it wasn't very hard. I had the glow back but was it the same as everyone else? Futile, it was futile, I reminded myself. I shut it down and wandered away.
Looking back, never do that without supervision, I watched them begin to walk the circle, round and round. They began to blur, individuals absorbed into the whole. It was beautiful and remarkable. Celebrations of existence, always suck me in. They are beautiful and quite the conversation piece. The entire circle was now glowing, a giant spotlight etching a hole into the sky. I could hear the sounds of eternity. The great klanking and whoosh. That got my attention.
The next moments were filled with more then time. Maybe it was squashed time. I may not have survived, I realized, if I had not duplicated the glow. Perhaps.
They stepped down from the sky gracefully belying their enormous size. They brought a table and chairs, a very large tub of time, and some sort of robot looking creature. They set their umbrella into the glow. The sparks and lightning were so lovely. The beam now hit the umbrella creating showers of twinkling stars. They arranged themselves into their seats. They began to glow. The robot like creature began picking things out of the air and placing them into the tub. I was too far away to determine what exactly was being put into the tub, but I could see it slowly filling up. Eventually dipping the pitcher into the tub, then filling each empty glass. I tried to leave but was mesmerized. The body wasn't going anywhere. It was futile I reminded myself and fell asleep or something like that. Like a dream that lasts forever, I couldn't seem to wake up. The birthday suit was affecting me. I struggled to get it off but it was futile. Had I inadvertently created a futile reality because of my thought? Was it really that simple and profound? The reality hugged me. It is futile to resist. I struggled but in vain, thinking I might change reality with thought.
That's when it hit me, after all these years the reality had become me sort of, echoing my thoughts. I realized possibility and began to implement it, slowly of course. My first action was to change the meaning of futile to 'few till'. You know, like, loan me a 'few till' I can pay you back and 'Few till' but many eat. The reality hugged me. The spectacle in the canyon was at full pitch. Sparks and lightning everywhere. I could not see clearly but it seemed to me that there was froth or foam or scum at the top of the glasses. The content appeared to be churning. The held up their glasses and with a heave hoe chugged the drink. Describing what happened next would take years but when they disappeared it shocked me. There was a loud whoomping sound. Like a great sucking that was suddenly plugged. The canyon was empty. I went to inspect. The circle was still warm. I finished my investigation and headed back. The celebration was interesting and a nice distraction but was it also influenced by my thought? Reality hugged me. I experimented with other sound alikes: moving from 'few till' to 'few will' to 'fuel' to 'fool' to 'full'. The hugging was my feedback signal. I never really noticed it before. Sure I felt the hugs before but had no idea what they were all about. I was distracted and the birthday party, the party that never was, seemed impossibly distant. I continued to refine the word speak machine.
The celebration mostly emptied the town of people. The few who were there seemed empty of spirit or being. Zombies or phantoms who did things as life but seemed to have no one home. Intelligent animals that could speak but could not or would not consider alternative realities. Every now and then I'd come across someone who was not affected by the word speak machine. I examined them closely. Some were just slow to respond, others had specific filters, the most interesting were those that seemed to have circuitry for my language. Most interesting indeed. I settled in a place where reality was thin. There seemed to be a better chance of something. I don't even know what something is. Every now and then I took a trip to the canyon. The ground now stone cold again. No sign of any one or anything I had experienced that day. Was it a dream? Despair sent me a note begging me to share a dance. I so wanted to but had other commitments. I was tired, my birthday suit well worn and old, for why? Had I so misjudged the date or the place? Am I so very early? I know I am not late.

To be continued



 
 

 

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