The first time I heard them was when I was small. I was thrilled. I told my mother, and she screamed at me. She said I was bad. She said that there was something wrong inside of me. She did not share my enthusiasm. I spent weeks talking to doctors before I wised up.
I never mentioned the voices again.
What they don't understand is the STRENGTH. The voices make me powerful because I have an understanding that eludes you. That eludes my mother. The doctors. Why should I care about daily stresses when I know that there is a plan?
I am a cog. That is all. The strength is in the whole machine.
It's been years now. Decades. So many nights spent listening. Learning. Planning. When the end comes, people will be surprised, but the voices will laugh in harmony. I may or may not be there to enjoy it in the flesh.
I might just join the multitude of voices.
Mader space.
ReplyDeleteYou don’t know this world. It wasn’t what was promised in the travel brochures. A trip into the future! Flying cars and robot maids! No. None of that. It’s…disappointing. Construction equipment still beeps backing up and belches noxious gas. Planes touch occasionally, according to the news stories, a thing that shouldn’t happen. Cars are woefully still earth-bound. You want your money back, but the guy said no refunds, no promises. No shirts, no shoes, no service. You hoped for a clothing-optional kind of future, a grassy hill overlooking wildflower-dotted meadows. Peace.
ReplyDeleteThere’s none of that, either. You just plopped down your money and bought the dream, bought what the carnival-barker was selling, and you only have yourself to blame.
But it would have been cool to have a flying car.
The point of it all escapes me, as summer draws to a close.
ReplyDeletePurple and yellow loosestrife explode through the underbrush, languidly bobbing their heads under the pressing heat. Cicadas run through their endless chorus, rising and falling, singing a song only they understand.
Feet drag. Thoughts drag. Life…drags.
Why are we still here? Are we the penultimate shape of mankind? Have we evolved to the point of causing our own extinction? Tell me straight, should I bother with the life insurance, the healthy diet, the five-year plan? Or should we be uncorking the champagne we’ve been saving for a special occasion that might never come? Will the financial advisors and the morticians have the last laugh?
Tell me.
Don’t tell me.
I don’t want to know.