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Dance Upon Earthen Stage
by
Adam Gilson
I will tell you what I find interesting.
this societal predisposition towards time.
I firmly believe in the rhythm of the body as it beats in time with the heavens
- the moon orbits, tides roll; all the while our heads are covered in sunny
skies.
however, as we have become more and more artificial - clothing, clocks, light
bulbs, electric tooth brushes - and more and more superficial - liposuction,
weight loss programs, true.com, buddy pagers - we have lost ourselves in a
milieu of modern man-made mockery.
the most perverse of these additions to our lives is nothing material.
you can at least identify material crutches and heal your wounds from their use.
but a mindset...a mindset envelops you in ways you could never admit.
a blind acceptance towards the concept and utilization of time. it has engulfed
us beyond all reasoning. we accepted its final yoke over our lives just a little
over a 100 years ago.
where we are is meaningless unless it is the right time.
we would rise with the sun and sleep with the sun. there was no alternative. you
could not do much at night.
as the equinox and solstice would pass unwittingly over our heads, we would
continue our dance with the stars from our earthen stage.
then faceless men created zones of time, forcing us into a man made day and
night. the power over time we were given was paid for with the loss of our
individual definitions to the Rhythm.
artificial light out shone the idea of too dark to do anything. late nights were
born and infant earlier mornings smelled of thick coffee.
we began to stumble.
the beat is artificial now.
the steps are cluttered, overlapping.
it is time to get ready when I wake.
let us dance.
the curl defining shampoo and conditioner goes well with the aloe infused body
wash that I smell as the clay and apricot facial scrub tingles on my face while
I reach for my MSM infused facial wash bar which I drop when I wrap myself in a
230 thread count towel thick with the cotton picked in fields from far away that
I do not even know by faceless faces looking out across the horizon to where I might be finally drying off with their labor right before
I apply my extra
sensitive gel shaving cream that glides so effortlessly off me with my 4 blade
shaving system that I bought at a store from someone that was my first kiss and
I think how well we acted out our parts of not knowing each other perfectly
while I put the leave-in conditioner with hair hardening balls that absorb to
lock in wetness which I admire while washing my face with a paper towel dripping
in witch hazel that is eventually covered by MSM infused face lotion that will
be drying when I am putting on my gap khaki's and my banana republic sweater and
my dash of cologne that my father bought me because he loves me and then I take
deep breaths of myself in the cold cold air in the morning cause my car has no
heater so I sip my coffee that is too strong and eat my banana which really is
not a banana it is a pastry cause they are faster to eat and the best of
intentions are substitutes for a healthy life which means I will walk it off at
lunch which I wont do cause I am not going to remember as I flip through the
stations on the way to work with the sun behind me while all the while an
ancient bellowing in the depths of my apathy is trying to tell me that
I have lost the feel of the sun on my face.
when I leave work, it is hiding behind me once again.
my dance did not sound like a stumble, I know.
it was very well orchestrated. years of practice has gotten to where I will only
nick myself shaving or at the worst spill some coffee on my khakis.
that night, I was called to an encore. everyone is so approving.
I get a call from someone that I drink with all the time but don not really like
but hey what else am I going to do tonight it gets too quiet at my house so we
all get in a car and know no one cares who drives cause we will all drink and
what does it matter anyways so off we go after some food at a fast food place
that threw the bag at us before opening a trap door to get us out of the way for
the next person then we ate that in about 2.3 seconds on our way to a club that
costs more money to get in than my towel making friends will make in a life time
but that ok cause the drinks at this place cost more than my towel making
friend's country makes in a decade which is something I bring up and we laugh at
while the music gets louder and the drinks become easier to swallow and the
conversation is easier to swallow and on and on and on we go till a song comes
on I know so I dance and dance and dance but don not feel any flow because that
ancient bellowing is telling me that it feels good now
but this really is not you.
I cover up that sentiment with a couple more shots of some glowing green thing
that makes my head woozy but my friend has a pill that does the trick so while
we are blasting his music player in the car and swerving to keep in a straight
line I notice the girl sitting next to me that has hopes of using my MSM infused
face lotion tomorrow morning that I was impressing her with because I am
actually 25 but I look 21 while I feel 80 while we were smoking out front of the
club we got kicked out of for a case of mistaken identity between a booth and a
stall but that of no consequence as there are plenty of other places that will
take our money that we worked so hard to smile while making it and while that
girl continues to massage my arm in a way that suggests the pills really do do
the trick I notice we have not stopped talking about things that really do
matter to us like what we saw on tv last night and our favorite mocha latte spot
and our favorite file sharing client and how it is so hard to do those things
when our parents call wanting to hang out but we are waiting for our drinks but
the wifi is slow at this internet cafe so we are not going to finish downloading
a song to upload to listen to before we have to make our movie about how the
world is moving too fast but we can not really talk about it cause that girl is
not going to hear me with my tongue in her ear which makes it hard for me to ask
her her name which I would not hear anyways over this ancient bellowing of
watch out you are going too fast. you might just break yourself.
I can not care and she can not care because this cologne is really making her
look at me like I was an omaha steak and was about to be pulled out of the oven
which would make my dad proud if he could just stop being so busy all the time
and talk to me but I can not think of that right now cause I should really be
driving and not air guitaring this song by a band that has the love song that
was playing the first time I kissed that girl who sold me the razors that made
my face so smooth which made it easier to impress this girl who right now thinks
this car is a manual but I wont tell her she is wrong because it feels so good
even though we are flying but she has not looked up so everything must be ok and
even though there is shattered glass in my eyes and screeching in my ears and a
friend sized hole in the windshield it is not nearly as awful as the deafening
silence of the ancient bellowing in my head which all along was saying
I will tell you what I find interesting.
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