The woman speaks:
And so they began one more time, adrift once again on their little raft. She, always the more prudent, protected her exile with silence, or at least quiet. Plain sentences, a nice easy place to hide. He preferred to protect himself with words. Silly, foolish monkey words, a fortress of chatter, a sort of short, goofy-looking Tower of Babel to hide behind. And the beautiful thing is that people stopped listening. From her, they waited for some word that would reveal everything, but from him they knew it would just be something stupid, funny but no more than that. He thought he was awfully clever. She knew why he did it, but she wouldn’t mind if he’d shut up.
The man: For a bit.
To begin is always to begin again.
At first it was just to get away. Anger and frustration and maybe shame, too. But then to begin again was to try to do better. To hope, at least. This time they had a car. That made it easier. This time there was a cat with them, in a carrier in the car. Maybe it didn’t make it easier to have the cat in the carrier in the car, but it did made it easier to have the cat.
Even on the lam, though, you can make choices. Even when your world is getting smaller, even when it’s very small, you can still make choices. And the world is still so big. Still so awful, still poisoned, but still not without possibility.
Sometimes, to begin again without even hoping that it’ll be better this time because otherwise, what. To at least pretend you have a reason for wherever it is you’re going this time. Something to tell people, even if it’s no escape at all.
Song: This Prison is a Paradise
And so they began one more time, adrift once again on their little raft. She, always the more prudent, protected her exile with silence, or at least quiet. Plain sentences, a nice easy place to hide. He preferred to protect himself with words. Silly, foolish monkey words, a fortress of chatter, a sort of short, goofy-looking Tower of Babel to hide behind. And the beautiful thing is that people stopped listening. From her, they waited for some word that would reveal everything, but from him they knew it would just be something stupid, funny but no more than that. He thought he was awfully clever. She knew why he did it, but she wouldn’t mind if he’d shut up.
The man: For a bit.
To begin is always to begin again.
At first it was just to get away. Anger and frustration and maybe shame, too. But then to begin again was to try to do better. To hope, at least. This time they had a car. That made it easier. This time there was a cat with them, in a carrier in the car. Maybe it didn’t make it easier to have the cat in the carrier in the car, but it did made it easier to have the cat.
Even on the lam, though, you can make choices. Even when your world is getting smaller, even when it’s very small, you can still make choices. And the world is still so big. Still so awful, still poisoned, but still not without possibility.
Sometimes, to begin again without even hoping that it’ll be better this time because otherwise, what. To at least pretend you have a reason for wherever it is you’re going this time. Something to tell people, even if it’s no escape at all.
Song: This Prison is a Paradise
Once this world was a prison
Where my bond had no price
I’m still trapped but thanks to you
Now this prison is a paradise
I couldn’t bear this tiny world
Marked only by sacrifice
But now you’ve transformed this cage
Now this prison is a paradise
Dreams, ah I have dreams
I see the world breaking at the seams
And yet somehow I’ve found peace
I’ve found release, yes I am released
In the void, in the dark
The slightest light will suffice
Now I bless you and I thank you
Now this prison is a paradise
2 comments:
Been reading Heraclitus lately:
A man when dying, kindles a light in the night when his sight is extinguished; living, he touches the dead man during sleep; when awake he touches the sleeper.
I was thinking of Heraclitus explicitly with the image of water/ocean as pre-verbal all-is-one. Paraphrasing very broadly from memory: Behold the drunken man. His soul is so filled with water that his son must lead him home. Glad the poster made it to you!
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