DETOUR down The World's Most Dangerous Road
BUT First: a SATURDAY teaser-
It hurt hard to watch that mystic tableau shrink into a tight microscopic blur, blotched by the bus’ steam hot exhaust. It always hurts to leave a deep romance in the distant behind. It shouldn’t hurt one bit, but it does.
******
The bus rounded one final elliptic curve, bouncing into the Bridge’s elastic steel howl with an electric jolt that shook even the most passionate dreamers bright awake. The shock knocked Crazy John’s American stitched Stetson straight off my shy hairline, sending it on a one-way no-return tumble down the dim aisle, inches ahead of my determined clasp
*****
Near Haight the wine fled with its kit of anesthetics. I tried following its lavender footprints but sobriety had settled in and all my neurons, recently revived from paralysis, had a bone to pick with my toe
*****
An eerie, indifferent silence, a silence fit for damp cellar tombs sealed air-tight with brick, a powerful inebriating silence that carressed the deaf landscape in a strong suffocating grip settled in seconds before impact. The freaks and weirdos were all too accustomed to the drill. They had heard the silence many times before, and would hear it many times to come. Behind battered cardboard bedsheets and recycled paper pillows they fingered their empty lighters in search of one last spark to mend their shredded nerves before disappearing into the bush. All this, of course, in silence.
******
"What's with the hat?"
"Oh, a friend gave it to me."
"Who?"
"The only real crazy person I know."
"I once had a hat like that. It taught me how to let go."
"A lesson I'm a little late in learning."
"It's never too late to learn"
"You're right Tim. Here. Take it. It's yours."
"What are you doing Seth?"
"Just letting go."
*****
It hurt hard to watch that mystic tableau shrink into a tight microscopic blur, blotched by the bus’ steam hot exhaust. It always hurts to leave a deep romance in the distant behind. It shouldn’t hurt one bit, but it does.
******
The bus rounded one final elliptic curve, bouncing into the Bridge’s elastic steel howl with an electric jolt that shook even the most passionate dreamers bright awake. The shock knocked Crazy John’s American stitched Stetson straight off my shy hairline, sending it on a one-way no-return tumble down the dim aisle, inches ahead of my determined clasp
*****
I spoke into the window, my gaze still mesmerized by the ecstatic city air and its vibrating pinwheels of sharp light. The words clung like vapor to the glass and quickly disintegrated into a deep unknown.
*****Near Haight the wine fled with its kit of anesthetics. I tried following its lavender footprints but sobriety had settled in and all my neurons, recently revived from paralysis, had a bone to pick with my toe
*****
An eerie, indifferent silence, a silence fit for damp cellar tombs sealed air-tight with brick, a powerful inebriating silence that carressed the deaf landscape in a strong suffocating grip settled in seconds before impact. The freaks and weirdos were all too accustomed to the drill. They had heard the silence many times before, and would hear it many times to come. Behind battered cardboard bedsheets and recycled paper pillows they fingered their empty lighters in search of one last spark to mend their shredded nerves before disappearing into the bush. All this, of course, in silence.
******
"What's with the hat?"
"Oh, a friend gave it to me."
"Who?"
"The only real crazy person I know."
"I once had a hat like that. It taught me how to let go."
"A lesson I'm a little late in learning."
"It's never too late to learn"
"You're right Tim. Here. Take it. It's yours."
"What are you doing Seth?"
"Just letting go."
*****
posted by Chris Fleites @ 5:34 PM
2 Comments:
Why should leaving a deep romance not hurt one bit? Are you being sarcastic? I think quite the contrary. Unless you think Love and Romance are contraries of each other.
I mesmerize at the way you can play with words, make them your own, and then just like that, let go... and give them as a gift.
...seth hollow doesn't really believe in attachments...he knows that good things come and good things go and to try and hold on to the good things when you inevitably can't will ultimately lead to sadness...this does not mean that he is unappreciative of moments, just that he doesn't live his life by the feelings those moments bring...of course, this is just his theory...putting it into practice is a different animal all together...we are sooo conditioned to rely on the feelings that the outside world 'inspires' that it's hard to break loose...true happiness is internal, unaffected by daily going ons and abouts...i know i sound like the Gita and that what im saying is so removed from conventional reality that it seems nothing more than ideal, but hey, awareness is the first step...
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