the slick ideas regarding those inventions were all here tidily hidden away in my skull...no, wait...wait for a second...scratch that...they were another person’s ideas...I know this because I read quite a bit of the relevant medical literature...it’s very important to be up-to-date in this category...I told the other people to leave me alone for awhile...they didn’t listen at first, so I had to come up with a strategy...become increasingly eager...tap new and hopefully cleaner sources of energy...display massive enthusiasm even if you don’t really feel it...venture out into the community and convince others to do something similar...initiate some sort of ongoing puppet theater down in the root cellar this winter...later on, if you want to disengage or disconnect from those promises, well, you can- but not quite yet. the scraps were too important to just leave lying around unattended.
the night sky. yes. pavilions. the desert spaces. long silences. threads and skeins drifting back and forth thru a network of nearly indivisible skill-shares. we wake up in the morning and immediately initiate a new conversation from fragments. we wanted those secret experiences. that’s not something we usually admit to.
around midnight. maybe later. pavilions. more than one. other people. wooden benches. trains and bridges. lights blinking and off. rivers.
it was a unique opportunity. other people didn’t have any awareness. I wanted them to, I did, honestly, I wanted them to set out in pursuit of higher-order awareness. the entire culture would benefit: the poor, the rich, and the medium. we would all eventually gather. I know it’s a strange thing to envision, but still, I think some of the people will enthusiastically gather. they may or may not have the same sick ideas tumbling around in their skulls- it was a matter of increasingly impressive technique and efficiency. a rutted road, an old cabin, an unwavering sense of commitment. all we wanted was the best education that money could buy. is that too much to ask? people make mud pies for a living. ok then.
indeed, the best conversation that money can buy.
