Musings over coffee

[Sepia]

"'m a rocket ship on my way to Mars
On a collision course
I am a satellite I'm out of control
I am a sex machine ready to reload
Like an atom bomb about to
Oh oh oh oh oh explode

I'm burning through the skies Yeah!
Two hundred degrees
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit
I'm trav'ling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic woman out of you"  - - -   Queen


We climbed for you father, we've been climbing for you steadily, we've grown blunt in our understanding and we never climbed for ourselves, we climbed for since the day you told us that we fell. We've grown older now, father, we've been tasting the ashes you left in our mouths and we've felt the guilt you placed in our hearts or souls, we've touched the open sky with our fingerlids and we have seen so much of it all, more than what you designed it for and as we climbed we told eachother stories and we spoke often of you, always in reverence, always with a heartfelt gratitude towards what you taught us, our upbringing, the fatherly way of life we should adhere to become the good men the world needed.

As we climbed some of us realized that what you told us, that life is a well written story where everything is connected, is false. Life is not order. Reality is an attempt to create order from our minds souls or chakras but we are never bound by it, there is no sensation of impending doom for righteousness is on our side, the way you raised us, the way you taught us that no man is bound to any law unless he has written it himself. This is why life is chaos because this wasn't the way you sold it to us, this wasn't what our hearts were looking forward to, it was something else. In this abyss we built reality, this sprawling abortion of order as vile as fatherly advice govern us, some of us thought it was the fall, we thought this was the fall represented through our hearts, living with us still, evolving and developing in places we did not but we were always part of it.

We climbed for you father, we spent eons on that dry rock with our broken hands, we climbed the tower, knowing the fate that would eventually become us and this was the fatherly harshness, this was the strength that sent men into war, this was the strength we called forth from the top of delphi, these were the sacred mystical visions we had, this was where life became more than reality, this here is the eyes of the beast we killed, the fluttering of wings that brought us our discovery, the mind that saw the eye and was transfixed as we became transfigured, we became tar in the face of the sun, we lived through our childhood with you once more and our hearts were torn from our bodies and placed on marlinspikes.

We had always fallen, from the second of our conception you cleverly devised the fall, you only told us what would happen if we did fall so we stole your ideas after we fell and we tried to act like you, we mimiced your movements and copied your words and we thought this was what made us into the good men but it was only your voice we couldn't forget no matter how hard we tried, like unseeing the fedex arrow or a gentle whisper, a gentle command made by love. We thought all your teachings were tangled, we thought that if we changed or nullified something to fit us better, the education you gave us would collapse, everything was there for a reason, each bit and part of it made every other part work, we saw the world as a clockwork orange.

We saw the world from the belly of you father

[Cramulus]

Startling
painful to read


this weekend I move into my father's old house

I mean that literally, but I suppose figuratively as well



all I can think of is this photograph of him at my age
holding baby me
snow on our eyelashes