26 Jan Wish To Be Blinded
Come on, let’s be fun, let’s be interesting and interested. Let’s be together with no one else, despite knowing we have the world at our fingertips, despite knowing there are events happening without us. In fact, let’s rejoice at our not being there, at our not needing to be anywhere else. Let’s make fun of them. Let’s make fun of ourselves. Let’s, us, you and me, let’s be here without an awareness of anywhere else, just for a moment, a long moment between us that makes eternity feel like nothing, that makes all the waiting we’ve done before seem worth it, and anything we must surmount later seem small. Because now is everything. Let’s share now.
Come on, let’s be. Let’s be here and now without a thought of forever or yesterday or Ohio or Bay Minette. Let’s not think of our families, no matter how great they are. Let’s not even think of our own, that possible/impossible future thing, that is, unless it comes up between us in our here and now. Then it’s all right. That would be okay. But until then, let’s just allow our minds to explore this space, or our hearts, if you prefer it, as long as we are filling this space between us with ourselves and not the 8 second video of someone else’s night, someone else’s baby or idea of something funny. Let’s gather leaves and build a fort and lie beneath it as it topples. Let’s count to three and BLOW and watch it spiral up and across and back down, and wonder at how space and time have brought us together beneath a pile of dying leaves.
Can we tell each other stories? They don’t have to be true, as fiction can explore spaces the truth can’t touch, and can impart truths that real life only pines to know. Tell me how you first discovered you didn’t know yourself. Tell me how you first discovered you were living a lie. Tell me how you began to seek the truth. That’s a story I want to hear, and I don’t care if it’s fiction or non, just as long as you mean it when you say it to me.
Come on. Let’s wash our faces and scrub our teeth. Let’s clean our bodies and inspect each other’s moles. Let’s check for lumps. Let’s. Let’s. Let’s jump into bed and talk about how the fan makes our eyelids tickle. Let’s talk about the sound of the gulf as we hear the cars drive by. Let’s wonder if the wind chimes will blow away tonight, if we might blow away together one day, some world-ending storm that might carry us into the next life. Let’s talk about how we’ll go together, still laughing at those parties we missed and teasing ourselves until we get the hiccups from not breathing enough. Let’s rub each other’s jaws, sore from smiling.
Let’s go that way, flying through the broken glass and sheared wood, riding in the arms of our last storm, holding onto each other and nothing else, so that even the storm is forgotten in the space we make together, a pocket of nothing in a world of blinding everything.
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