The Bear, The Bee, and The Rhino.
The island is a huge rock with grass and trees on it. I make an effort to be alone here, to take trails that are overgrown. I walk narrow paths above a quarry to avoid other people.
I sat out there, legs crossed, the hard earth pushing up against my ass, supporting me. Cradled by nature, thinking, "what should I do?"
I sat there and waited for a reply. None came.
Everything was so small, and yet, so big. The bank, with grass hair and root veins hanging over the edge--bees hovering through that tiny landscape. I realized something. I'm not sure what, though. The sun splashing on my retinas, several purple blotches appeared on my vision. In my state, I saw the formation of eyes, a jaw, and nostrils. The face of a bear stretched upon closed eyelids, and I had my answer. My vision was formed through delusional extrapolations of nature. Of natural phenomena. I, like the simple bear, am no different than my surroundings. That word, even, surround, to encompass, seems false because of the Bear. I was the "surrounding."
The "transparent eye."
I remember the point of recording this thought was to "be." Just. And experience all of the things nature can communicate. Even your very thoughts, your total sum of experiences effected and effecting. Inseperable. I came here to ask nature what I should do. I should do what this rock behind me does. It's huge, it's massive. Like a rhino. Not one on TV. Right in your face. A huge stone rhino that could carelessly roll over you at any minute, conjuncting your weak frame and internal organs to squish and splinter, snap. Just be. Experience.
Enjoy.
Suffer.
Every capacity maxed.
The awful, throaty, high-pitched metal bone scrape sound of the train on the mainland screeches. This is the sound Christians here when you use their lord's name in vain. Why is using the Christian Savior's name in vain a violation of universal rule? I mean, there are laws to this universe, but that?
I don't get it. I guess that's why I do.
