So my mother tells me almost nothing. Basically it’s like she’s mute. I might as well learn sign languange, but then, with our history she will likely go blind the moment I can communicate a sentient idea. Oi vey. I’m not Jewish, but sometimes I think I was in another life, or meant to be in this one. How do you explain the love of pastrami? And the suffering? Ya, “that’s life” they say. Well, they’re right, but they forget to mention all the beauty in between the bouts of suffering. Ya, well, how ‘bout that then? What does it all mean. Am I insane to think that there is a purpose greater than us all….man my head moves way faster than my fingers on this keyboard. And by head, I don’t mean that I mean to give it, but that my brain is frighteningly quick in it’s stream of consciousness. Where does it all go? Youth beauty, resilience – I watched a young kid playing on the beach – running and playing with a soccer ball – he had legs like elastics, like Gumby, and I remembered what it felt like to be so limber. “Youth is wasted on the young” – a statement I always responded to with complete disdain and now I understand it. Age. Inevitable. Irrepressible. Ignitable? Definitely irrequitable. However, also inevitable and embraceable.
The grey hair starts very subtly. You don’t even see them especially when you have the sun-kissed blond hair of a surfer “girl”. Unfurl. In the curl. Curt. oh, I can’t possibly write the next word in the sequence. god help us all. And he does. May you be struck dead if I am wrong. Lightning. It hurts when it travels through your arm, down into your body, out your arm and down your core, into your legs and out your feet into the thankfully wet ground….leaving no burn marks…could it be a miracle. how could this be? Miraculous? or just damn lucky. You decide. Again, was consciousness altered maybe some neurons fried and others welded in a way that only divinity could?
Never mind. It’s all just a crap shoot anyway.