An object at rest.

What keeps us moving?

Really though, what keeps us moving?

What keeps us moving? What keeps us moving? I just keep asking. I need to know? What keeps us moving? So I just keep typing? I’ll keep typing because I have to. Because I’m afraid if I stop the idea will disappear. The idea is disappearing. Going. Going. Going. Stop. Stop. Turn, take, explode. IN MY MIND. IN MY MIND. Explode in my mind. NOW. Stop. This ephemeral shadow. Stop. The dissolve. Stop. Explode in my mind in my mind. These pieces these fragments of an idea are so much more attainable. I need it bite size. Give it to me bite size. One at a time. One at a time. I can take it now I can take it now. One, now the next and now I begin to see what you were. What you meant. And that damn explosion propelled me forward. Forward. To what. To MOVE.

Motion is not enough. MOTION WITH OUT MEANING IS IMPULSE IS A COVER UP A MASK, A MOTION TO LIE. So lie. I lie. I will lie.

Because I KEEP MOVING.

That first law will break me. It will break me. This rest will remain if I don’t explode into motion. So I need to move. I have to move to keep going forward forward. I refuse to look back, to go back, to walk back. I am of the present and in tomorrow

thoughts for a dead friend

“hello, how are you?
this fear of being
what they are… dead”

Bukowski, I love you
but oh how I would
have hated you
So bitter, so cynical, so resigned
everything I fear in myself
Did you fear happiness Charlie?
so hungry, and yet so scared…

Did you figure it out Charlie?
did you get your fill,
of women
of rage
of passion.
were you addicted to feeling
so much that you didn’t care
if it was pain or pleasure
or do you know the difference?


“All we need to continue alone
Are the dead:
Rattling the walls that close us in”

But Charlie I’d rather keep
better company than you.
You my darker side,
You my guilty laugh
A fearful threat
To what is good in me
To what is left of hope in me

Is that it Charlie?
Your dead entourage in tow,
did you forget to be
For fear of becoming?

I would like to take a train...

Travel
-Edna St Vincent Millay

The railroad track is miles away
And the day is loud with voices speaking
Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking

All night there isn’t a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming
But I see its cinders red on the sky
And hear its engine steaming

My heart is warm with the friends I make,
And better friends I’ll not be knowing;
Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,
No matter where it’s going

Science without wisdom leaves man enslaved to a world of unrelated objects in which there is no way of discovering (or creating) order and deep significance in man's own pointless existence."

-from Gandhi on Non-violence

Rebooting

I think sometimes, we need to treat humans a little more like computers. Yes, I did just say that and yes my nerd percentage just increased. But really. When your computer starts slowing down, or randomly freezing, you don't just ignore it and wait it for it to spontaneously combust. Well actually, I did that to my computer..but the point is it's a bad idea! And damn expensive.

People who take care of their computers do updates and when it starts to slow down or randomly freeze, you reset it. I think we need to allow people to have a reset button.

Today I needed a reset. A hard reset; you know when your phone's on the fritz and the only thing you can do is completely start over. I need a clean sheet. Normally I just push through the day, but I'm realizing that the more I just push my way through things, the more they pile up on my back. It's time to clean up. I wish it was as easy as rebooting a computer or resetting my phone. I'm not really sure what the method is for people. But I'm going to figure it out.

So far it involves biker boots, red lipstick, and coffee. Today I mean business.

The Little Girl: Part X-XII

X.

Now, the little girl had not really thought things through too well. She was so focused on helping the turtle herder, that she hadn’t thought through the simple things: for instance, where was she going to find a boat? She had promised she would sail across the sea, but she didn’t even know if this place had boats. She didn’t know where she would go, or how she would get back for that matter. And even if she found a ship and made it across the sea, how was she going to send word back to Mr. Jo? Did they have paper? Could the turtle herder read? What if she had to pay?

All these questions came storming down on her. For a moment she froze in the sand. How could she even go forward without knowing how anything would work out?

She thought good and hard. Perhaps she could walk around the sea instead of sailing? No, that would take too long, and she had no idea how big the sea was. Maybe, she could make a raft out of trees? No that was an awful idea. There were no trees and with just herself, there would be no way to craft a vessel. Maybe, she could just go back? She could explain to the turtle herder that she realized she hadn’t thought things through clearly and maybe another time they could go.

The little girl stared at the blue waters just ahead of her. She thought of the little turtles and the poor turtle herder who never made it to the sea. No, she most certainly could not go back without even trying. And even if she couldn’t cross the sea, she would at least swim in it. With a nod of her head, the little girl was decided. The sea it was.

XI.

The little girl walked forward with a gleeful smile and dipped her feet into the sparkling water. The cool water was refreshing and the little girl stretched her arms up into the air and let out a silent yawn. In the distance came a loud moaning call, “AAAAHHHMMMAAAGGHHHH.” The little girl stopped, clamping her mouth shut quickly. What was that? She was silent, listening for another sound. But nothing came. The water was still and nothing was in sight. The little girl cautiously backed away from the water. She must have imagined it. The sun was hot on her back and the little girl was beginning to feel drowsy. She stretched her mouth wide open, allowing another yawn to escape.

“YYYAHHHHHNNNNNNFFFFFF.”

She clamped her hand over her mouth. The sound was louder this time. Whatever it was, was getting closer. She looked over the glistening water, standing on tiptoe in hopes of finding its source.

Then she saw it. A break in the water, not too far ahead. She could see a patch of ripples pushing outward in circles. Then slowly, very slowly something began to emerge from the center and with it came the resounding, “YYYYAAAAAHHHHNNNNFFFFF.”

From the shore the little girl watched as a fuzzy orange face emerged attached to a long slender neck. It came closer and closer until it loomed just a few feet from the shore. At first the little girl thought that the creature in front of her was a loch-ness monster. She had heard of the Ness before and had seen pictures of it. But this creature was not quite so big and looked oddly like a camel. The creature stretched its neck upward pushing its face forward toward the little girl.

The little girl stood face to face with it, unsure if she should be scared or not. The creature began to open its mouth and the little girl clasped her ears and ducked her head ready for its loud call. But there was no sound. Cautiously, she opened on eye and founding herself staring into the eyes of a she could only assume was a camel. The camel opened its mouth, “Care for a ride?” It asked in a jaunty voice.
The little girl just stared.
“Ship sails in….” the camel turned its head up toward the sun and the back at her, ”Oh goodness, I’m late… the ship sails now!”

XII.

The little girl stared blankly. “Excuse me?” she managed. The long neck stretched and the camels head came nearer, if that is conceivably possible, now eyeball to eyeball with the little girl.

She stood paralyzed, continuing to stare blankly back into the large eyes of the camel. The camel held the stare and only when the eye contact was almost unbearable, did he pull his head backward. The little girl did nothing.

The camel raised an eyebrow. “Quite as I thought. Indeed, quite as I thought.” He smacked his lips and made a “tsking” sound. The little girl was still standing unmoved and seemingly incapable of response.
“Hm yes, well then my little opossum. You’re not quite what I expected. I do suppose I can still give you a ride.

But, really you must come out of your shock so we can get going now.” He dropped his head down into the water slurped some water and then spat it abruptly into the little girl’s face.

Immediately, she snapped out of her stupor. She held her clothes out from her body allowing the water to slide down towards the ground. “You spit on me! You dirty camel!” she exclaimed indignantly.

The camel drew his head up high, clearly upset. “I’m sorry, but did you really just refer to me as a dirty camel?! I am no dirty camel and I did not spit on you! You are out of place little opossum! I am a member of Her Majesty’s Royal Fleet! You are crossing the line little opossum!”

Now it was the little girl’s turn to be upset. “Spitting? Yes that’s what we civilized people call it, and we civilized people don’t spit on others! And..And” the little girl was in a huff, but out of words…”And don’t call me an opossum! I’m not an opossum, I’m a little girl!”

The camel drew back his head and let out a loud guffaw. “Civilized? How dare you speak to me of civilization? Do you know even know how to spell it, let alone what that means?!

The camel’s irritation faded and now it was clearly amused. “Oh you poor little opossum. I’m sorry, we’ve started off so wrong. I’m sorry I “spit” on you (if you must call it that). I was merely trying to startle you out of your state of shock. Not only did I manage to frighten you but then I’ve offended you by spitting on you. Please accept my apology.” The camel was chuckling to himself, but had ducked his head down so that it was not touching the ground, but hovering it a few feet above.

The little girl was standing, her clothes wet, her hair knotted with sand and salty sea water, and her face bearing up her look of indignation while trying not to cry. Her lower lip began to tremble.

“Come come little opossum. Clearly you’ve had quite a day. Let’s start freshly now. I am Sir Archibald Fresnatt of Her Majesty’s Royal Fleet. I oversee these waters and transport guests from the South Shore to North Shore. I am terribly sorry for upsetting you, but you must accept my apology knowing how incredibly much I hate delaying my schedule and I am now precisely one hundred raindrops off scheduled departure time.”

The Little Girl: Part VII-VIII

(And the story continues. Parts I-VI are two posts down!)


VII.
Jo the turtle herded did not need much prompting. He immediately started into the history of the turtle herders and how it all began on the very sands they now stood upon.

“The great turtle herders were formed out of necessity. It did not take long for the people of these shores to find that there was something curiously wrong with our native turtles. We began to notice that when the young turtles hatched from their eggs it was with a general sense of stupor. At first we figured it was just the shock of being born. I mean if you think about, it really must be frightening to open your eyes the first time to something completely brand new and unfamiliar. But these poor baby turtles were utterly and completely lost. They would start out crawling in one direction and then the next, and then the next until they were just spinning in circles. Eventually, they would just freeze and remain still where they were. They wouldn’t budge. The sad little things eventually…they eventually…”

The turtle herder had paused with a sad look on his face. The little girl encouraged him, “What happened Mr. Jo?”

“…they eventually died” he dropped his voice barely whispering the word,” they died on the sand in the very places they were born. Our beautiful sands were littered with the lost lives of these helpless little turtles.”

“We had to do something. Eventually we discovered that these turtles were born missing something: they had no sense of smell. They could not smell the crisp seawater to direct them. That mixed with the fact that they were being laid too far in on the sands to see the water left them in complete confusion. We began to keep watch over them, posting ourselves near the eggs and waiting for them to the hatch. Then slowly, patiently we guide them to the waters where they begin their lives. We know they will return to leave their eggs and every season we wait for them, ready to guide them back to their home.” The turtle herder paused in reverent silence at the end of his account.

“Mr. Jo,” the little girl broke the silence, “Mr. Jo, what will happen to the turtles after your little brother takes over? There’s no one after him, to take the job! How will they find their way home?” The little girl was concerned. The image of dozens of baby turtles frozen in confusion was haunting her mind. “How will they survive!?”
The turtle herder was silent. Then quietly he began, “They will be fine.”

“But how?” she asked.

The turtle herder was hesitant, “They don’t need us anymore. You see long ago, one of my relatives realized that the way to prevent this tragedy was to retrain the returning turtles. You see if the mothers would leave their eggs within in sight of the shore. The young hatchling could use their vision to guide them home. It took years, but eventually they learned.” He paused, “So you see I’m not needed anymore, I need the turtles more than the turtles need me.”

VIII.

The strange orange man stood in somber silence. The little girl could tell he was on the brink of tears again, but she wasn’t sure how to comfort him.
“Mr Jo. How long have you lived here?”
He sniffed, “All my life.”
“Then you’ve never left these sandy beaches? Ever?”
“No. No this is my home. I don’t want to leave here. Why would I even want to?”
“Mr. Jo maybe the turtles are giving you a gift.” She started gently, “Maybe they are thanking for you for guarding them for so long and now they are releasing you to leave…Maybe…Maybe they want you to go find somewhere new.”
“No, no, no” the turtle herder moaned silently.
“But Mr. Jo, the world is so big! Why this morning I discovered a different side of my bed, it’s really quite amazing!”
The turtle herder appeared confused by this statement, so she continued on.
“You have so many places yet to see. You can’t know if you’ll like them until you go. And it’s not like you won’t be coming home…the best part is that no matter where you go, you can always come home. These beaches aren’t going to move, but you can!”
The turtle herder sniffed and wiped at his eyes.
The little girl continued, “You need a vacation.” She said this in her best mom voice possible, “You help these turtles to the sea every year. Each year they get to start off on a new adventure when they reach the water and you just go home. Maybe, it’s your turn?”

The turtle herder looked down at the turtles and then far across the sandy dunes. His eyes were dry now.
“I’ve always wanted to see what’s on the other side of the water.” He started slowly. “I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to take a little trip. I mean who knows what’s on the other side out there!”
He was starting to speak rapidly. “I could ride on a ship, I could swim in the sea, I could…I could..” He fell silent again.
“What’s the matter Mr. Jo?” asked the little girl.
“How can I go, where I’ve never been before. How would I know where to go or how to get there? No, no it’s best for me to just stay home.”
He paused, “And the sea, the sea is dangerous, I wouldn’t want to do anything foolish. No, it is better for me here where it is safe.”

The little girl smiled up at the turtle herder. “It’s okay to be afraid,” she whispered gently to him. She stopped for a moment considering the turtle herder’s predicament. Then she found it. She found the solution to his anxiety.

“Mr. Jo, I’m moving on. I was planning on heading toward the sea. What if I went first? What if I went to the sea and sailed across? What if I sent you back word when I reach the other side? Would you feel better than? Would it help to know someone else has gone ahead of you?”

The turtle herder considered this. He looked across the sand toward the sea. He looked up at the sky. At last he looked down at the 8 turtles.

The little girl waited for him to speak, but he remained silent.

At last he turned to her, “But you’ll go first?”