Whatever happened to the days of yore when the sky tasted of avocado and wind was sweet with the smell of trust. What happened to then really? Some say that they packed their many belongings and moved to a train car whose tracks are submerged in just a few feet of water and whose trip is never done.
I think about that place often with its clean air and billowing clouds that too often take the shape of Paul Atreides from Dune the move, the 1984 version. I do think of that place. I think of the strange denizens of that fair and soft train as it barrels along with the sound of water and bells forever in the background.
Then I weep. I weep for the last super balls and the misplaced legos. I weep because I know that you know. I weep because the words don’t make sense but somehow still capture meaning. I weep because meaningful things can only be hidden. Otherwise, if you just leave them out in the open the world tries to cut their bellies and devour their intestines. Also because I am sure someone is trying to steal my orange juice.
The days of yore are gone yes, but I am still here. I am still here caught in the undulating shapes and imaginations of my own mind and it is so cathartic to simply type out how much we will need to forgive in the coming years.
I watch as my own beloved cat changes, turning inside out. She splits open and from her emerges technology that you could not comprehend. This is the real thing we have to ask ourselves what happened to those sweet winds and the technology that we all hoped for jet pack and, food dehydrator and, me and, you.
from Enigmatic Texture