I have few words to accurately describe what I have known and lost in years come and gone.
Or, rather – For those memories command eloquent language – I have not words.
One might say I am nostalgic, but as is often the case in this matter, single words fall short of a broad and glistening reality. For it is true - the majority of my feeling, due to my inability to express said feeling, will remain trapped in the folds of my mind. Though golden, they will be shrouded ever more. I would speak freely and truly to say that my greatest regrets result from those thoughts I cannot express.
But perhaps – Yes, perhaps it is not only me who cannot express those feelings! Perhaps there is but a sliver and a shimmering chance that one is born or progresses to the point where he or she can adequately convey images such
as those I would convey.
It is as if these thoughts are ghosts – They are seen – But only briefly. And perhaps you do not recognize horror, at first, in the face of that white mountain.
But I would ask, and forgive me for the question that perhaps you do not wish to answer – But do you remember that slope?
They would ask us to forgive and forget.
But I would ask, again – Do you remember those walls?
I would ask with all the passion I have – Do you remember the first time you picked up a wrench?
Do you remember?
Do you remember the very first moment you scrolled through ample cans of paint?
Do you remember?
There was something so fleeting about those golden days. But we did not notice at first.
No – We did not notice! For we could not notice that dreadful nightmare when frankly, we lived in a dream. We could not comprehend the wedding of death and destruction for we had only seen hope.
The world, truly, was yours. You and I were creation. You and I spawned worlds – Sprawling, captivating worlds of our own magnificent design! In your hands, in your hooks, lay the power to create the most basic fibers of imagination!
I shiver to think of what our collective dream became.
Do you recall the collection of dreams?
I relished them.
And it is sad to think that there was no end. There was no ceremony! There were no flowers and condolences when they stole our dream!
They took our dreams! They took our slopes! They took our visions and our hopes and they dashed them upon the rocks of “progression” with the swift ferocity of a full-speed ski crash!
And oh – I know those of you who are content to say and believe in that phrase – “move on.”
But I would tell you and I would have you believe that I cannot! I cannot move along for my heart resides in a world I cannot access! My heart lies in the doors of that fridge! My heart lies underneath the grey mattress! My heart lies in the sand dunes outside our house, in my jeep with flying wheels! And you cannot say to me, “Move along”! You cannot push me along when my peg-legs are planted in a world that was not flat! For all the flying carpets and tank turrets in the world, I will not, and I swear to you on the very jets in my soles – I will not move along! I will not /sit idly by while you destroy the very fiber of imagination! You may wish to watch our world crumble in that invisible flame of computer code! I will not /love at your fancy lights and shadows – For it is shadow that you have planted in my heart!
/alarm /alarm /alarm!
A thousand times, and to all of you who have forgotten, I say and I repeat, /alarm!
But alas, few are they who remember.
And I would /alarm.
But alas, my friends have disappeared.
I would wave my arms!
But who is there to see it?
If it must be that dreams die, then I will gladly die with them.
But I will be here forever.
Play me off, comrades, with after school special.
Let bass 1 play through the halls as I depart.
Or rather – as I roll on – For I will not leave. This is my epilogue, truly. But I will not leave for my heart will not allow it!
And so I will roll on. Water levels may be raised. Environments and sun azimuths may be altered but my spirit shall not be controlled so briskly and with so small a force.
I will roll on as all good onions do!
I will leave your harsh words and aftermarket schemes behind.
There is a demo home out there for me, somewhere in this green expanse! There is a green jeep and a brick for my light! I will find my home and there I will rest.
I may find peace in my virtually physical reality.
But forever, toward those white peaks and blue lakes, I shall roll ever onward.
I know they are waiting for me somewhere out there.
And when I find them, I shall /sit again.
And I will be at peace there - with the snow falling down on me once more.
