Where It Is That Is Not Me

 

On a blue ball hurtling through the dark and teeming void, the
cluttered emptiness…a spark is born of an errant chemical process, a
mistake in a recipe

Electromagnetic energy absent mindedly nudges a nerve ending, annoys
a dendrite, causes a chromosome to misstep and fall in line
behind the wrong scout leader.

The beginning, the nexus of the germ of an idea, a long term plan imagined
in an instant; kind of sort of probably and maybe not but always
always always facing toward the end of time.

Follow that path a million years with fins and feet, teeth and tails, with
the entire knowledge of a world implanted in no more space than
the original idea, the impetus…

Wrap that in the understanding that we arrive alone, we leave
alone…and all the tears in between, the laughter, the moments
captured and lost belong to no one else.

I understand the need to gather, the requirement to share, to spread the
emotion, to hide the fear, to promote and exhalt…
to make the perspective the wrong end of the binoculars…but…

I can’t tell you without fact or fiction or choice or destiny but…I know, I
know, I know where it is that I am not…where it is that I will
never be…where it is that is not me.

And I am not god…or I am…or
we are, or they are, or it is…or….much much much
more likely…

replace “or” with “and”

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