photo: me by jacs fishburne
4 Aug 17
An empty mall before it opens, no stores on. All music lowlight and dead mannequins staring. How much time goes by before we begin? I’m an hour early for the Apple store.
Quiet now, you have arrived. At material things. At human beings. Made of mass that takes up space. Take up space. Take it down. Out with it. Outer. Space.
Inner space. By being we have space of inner-me. Me-ing and Being all through to the space. Lift heart. Lift your eyes. Head down, chin up. Work. See place through time and secrets. Inner time. Inner thoughts that make up my life. Go in and see out.
How many lights are on here?
Von Maur. Starbucks. Apple Store. Express. And the golden elevator. Going up. Taking space. Out and in. Breathe. It is material, same as me. Fabric breathes. Tea breathes. I breathe. Leaves. Lying low and coming up, gasping. Gasp. Come up. It is about time.
What isn’t about time? Measured. Wrinkles in fabric, in folds of skin. Space in time.
The light changes.
I woke before you today – I watched the Northwest sky change in windows big as can be. Changing the blinds repeatedly, now you see me, now you don’t. And what is it I see? Or want to?
I woke and immediately swept the floor. Lay down on it, moving. My body moves as it wakes. It dreams dance beforehand. Before my hand was my cord – spinal. Umbilical. Connecting me to life. Changed. I play in my aches. And feel ready.
They walk, they change hand-in-hand through the mall.
I don’t want someone to mall-walk with me when I’m their age, but holding hands will be nice.
These two walk side-by-side, but not hand-in-hand. She smiles after I smile at her. I like them. And here come this two more. Slick at Starbucks. Not a couple, but maybe so. The skin. It catches my eye. Honey black and mahogany tones. I am juicy, in mouth and in my bone. Horny bovine, these bulls are too young for you now. Let them graze with that young, lovely sweet cow.
Let go of the idea of thee, of partner, of other. And let all beings be.
They all walk counter-clockwise so far. And then she appears from nowhere – clockwise just to prove the point. My perception is marred.
As soon as I see it is, it is not.
They come again, still hand-in-hand. I think they’ve walked the whole place by now.
She cuts through, awkward on heels. Could not run away. Pushes the golden button. Going up.
And then them again – the two that I like. No smile this time, but counter-clockwise.
There is a bright-eyed jolt. And then a puff.
[…] Genius Bar. My computer in tow. A 35-40 minute wait. “That’s perfectly fine” I say.
Wait.
The three fixing hair at Starbucks are here. The youngest, that said “Don’t touch my hair” does not even care. The mom touched her hair and spoke to the eldest, flipped it back with a flare. The eldest then took her’s down from its ponytail, fixed it absently, methodically, looked here and there. Shifted feet like a two-step. Like she had to pee, standing right there.
Wait.
Bless you. The dog helps him work. It seems sad to do so. Try not to hurt anyone. First, do no harm. Do nothing at all. Leave it as I found. But when? When do we go? When do we leave well enough all alone?
“It’s either the RAM or the Logic Board. I’m gonna take it in the back and try to reset it, see if that helps.” Great idea. How can I reset my logic board? How do I see what helps? Logically.
Pay for what you get. Screens are ever-present. Hard to get; easy. “I don’t want to lose anything here”, she said. “Yes.” The kids walk in, take straight to the screen. They are absorbed. Instantly.
Cole G 