The table is the first thing to be set, but
the stage is always being dismantled by some Joe with
no remorse for the carpentry involved in that particular sorrow.
He's always standing in the wings with his cardboard box
in his hands waiting to sweep the place clean the
silent moment you exit. Time for something else to start,
the next chapter. Immediately, if possible. You can join in
or you can bloody well fade away. Being on the
lonely outskirts of newly happening towns is no summer picnic.
It only causes your own forgotten parts of a dream
to glow again for a lost moment in muted recognition.
Nothing stays the same. It doesn't matter how much love
you added to it in your eight days of heaven
or hell. It has used up all of itself in
return. At least you gave it some of your own
motion. At least you made it move toward the freedom
of silvery dancing in the alive moonlight. I know how
much it took out of you. We all do. There's
only one thing that can come alive now in that
same way, just not in that same room. Don't cry
for birds. They get to fly, whatever else befalls them.
You and I get to be ourselves, if we can
find ourselves, amongst all the modern wreckage. It all ends
up in the same warehouse, after coming off the same
barges, to be unceremoniously dumped into the same mountainous hole
full of cracked, broken and used stars. Even the ones
who remember your name won't want to carry that burden
forever. You've got to be the one to say your
own full name to the whole damned, indifferent universe and
mean it for as long as you can muster a
somewhat steady whistled tune. It's not a prayer. Don't bring
that nonsense into it. It's a declaration of independence, a
self-proclamation of being alive, no matter what dimension you find
yourself inhabiting, before the big red balloon pops, and spoils
all the fun and misery of life itself. Solving the
mystery doesn't solve anything. It only makes it go that
much deeper. The mystery of the mystery is an onion.
It will make you cry if you don't chew some
long lasting gum in the process. Turns out, the answer
is whatever it wants to be, because it's all in
your head. So choose wisely. Be mighty. Birds have very
little to do with it. They are the representatives of
just one simple and at the same time grand possibility.
One unsure outcome among many holy ways to go home
again to the place where you will always belong. You
can never get far enough away from yourself to forget
to remember the human folly, but you might to forgive
yourself for being curious of the obvious dangers so often.
We aren't the angels. We are the people. We made
beautiful music out of stones and storms. That's our story.