More old letters

April 16th, 2011 So how has your last month been? My mind has been fucked repeatedly to the point where I had so many thoughts - how many blades of grass. How many creases and cracks in the tree bark, the distraction of branches and leaves.. and the ants marching back down the same tree to their hills in the grass. How many pieces of dirt make up that mound? Do the ants work together intentionally? Is it for their own survival? Like "every man for himself? " or are they working to save the queen? Or to create homes for their families? And if not, do they die? Does anyone die? I've never died... I've been told people die... I've seen people I was told were dead.. but does death really exist? No. Apparently not. So does anything begin? When did I begin? My oldest memory is when I was 4 or 5, but I was "alive" before then. So if I lived before I can remember myself, who is to say I haven't lived before ANYONE can remember? Wtf is going on in the world. Everything is shaking non stop. Do you feel it?

I wish I wasn't insane.

So many thoughts that I couldn't think anymore. I was exhausted. My brain was screaming. So I ran. Again. For 4 miles. And came to rest on a swing set. And I went back and forth. Swinging. Repeating. The same action over and over. Until I saw the lights. They lined the sidewalk. Tons of them, cause it was a park. ANYWAY, the lights were so many. But when I swung forward they became one. One light. And I was pulled back by gravity and it was many lights again. Then I pushed myself forward and saw them as one. Then fell back again and this time I became one of the many. I was just a speck of light. Then I pushed myself forward again and watched as that speck of light became one with all light. All existence. All things.

All the grass. The bark. The branches. The leaves. The ants. The dirt. And ME! I was comfortably dissolved into the air. The very same air which parted for me as I swung forward. The same air that pushed me forward. The same air that became me. That I dissolved into. It's so weird.

I'm broken. Strangely torn apart. But deeply interested in every crack and crevice on this planet. I talked to a man today about the age and vintage of fine Cheddar and soaked up all he had to spill about the differences between American and English cheese; the aging, the charing, the wood vs copper barrels. And I saw the glow on his face. The red in his cheeks. The glint in his eye. This 65 year old man had become young again before my eyes. His excitement and passion had over powered his body. And the same was true a few moments later when an older women shared with me her secret recipe for talapia. Her fingers bent and pinched as she relived every step of the recipe. The memory taking precidence over reality. Have you ever watched someone grow younger? It's remarkable.

I want to cry thinking about it.