observation 309.24.13


I realized I'm in a state of transition. Again. I hope it's a good one. Can't think, but enjoying the time within immensely until someone of authority points it out in a bullying tone. If they don't get it, they never will. That makes me sad, but it comes off as mad. To amuse and calm myself, I turn a question over and over in my head.

It's one of those questions you carry with you an entire lifetime without a definitive answer most of the time, and it has the ability to delight you and madden you at the same time. The question swings back and forth from to one dizzying extreme to another. It's a question that throws your life out of balance but can also steady your life into harmony again. It is core information known to your soul yet unknown to a human existence. You revolve around while it rotates within you. But humans, and the ego that goes with them, think it's the other way around. And that's what causes wars more time than peace. It's what I've decided is the truth with no physical results or formulas to show as evidence for the human ego to comprehend or begin to accept it.

I try to think nothing of it my specific question, but then, I try to enjoy the open-endedness of the question which may never have an answer before my eyes. No one can show me on paper or give me physical proof of the things I believe so strongly, things that glitter throughout my unchosen path.

The path has always been just dark enough to see only shapes around me with the feeling something close is in the dark, but really, is it there It has to be. Or, does it? If nothing else, everyone has a path. Sparks light up the path just like fireflies on a warm summer night. You know they are out there, you realize you are within a swarm of them, but until they show themselves, you are alone with the knowledge that they were there last year, they will be here this year, and for the rest of your life unless something earth-shattering happens to either you, them, or the world.

I search for them, sometimes aggressively, sometimes dragging tired and vacantly, but autonomically grinding away inside me with joy, they search for me relentlessly. I don't know why. When I feel like letting them go, I feel the silken threads they've bound to me. Every time I almost give up the search of just being there with what makes me live and also kills me, the fireflies return, sparking and showing themselves to me, drawing me deeper into the darkness between day, night, and day, where I belong.

Year after year, I live for the fireflies in the night. I remember this as my heart asks the question, holding it close to my heart and feeling a firefly unseen in the darkness. My answer on paper is not there, but the reassurance comes in the form my forgotten song in a random play. It taps me gently. From the corner of my eye, I see it, he song is "subterranean homesick alien". Testing it, my eye flits to the time. It's 2:22am. One more test, the time left of its play when I look at it: -2:22.

Three tiny green lights in the dark rolling meadow of my wondering journey across the face of this planet and time, this time.

"The breath of the morning
I keep forgetting
The smell of the warm summer air

I live in a town
Where you can't smell a thing
You watch your feet
For cracks in the pavement

Up above
Aliens hover
Making home movies
For the folks back home

Of all these weird creatures
Who lock up their spirits
Drill holes in themselves
And live for their secrets

They're all uptight
Uptight.. (x7)

I wish that they'd swoop down in a country lane
Late at night when I'm driving
Take me on board their beautiful ship
Show me the world as I'd love to see it

I'd tell all my friends
But they'd never believe
They'd think that I'd finally lost it completely

I'd show them the stars
And the meaning of life
They'd shut me away
But I'd be all right
All right..

I'm just uptight
Uptight.. (x7)"

- radiohead