You and I were in a bookstore on La Cienega. The lesser of the two corporate caverns. You sat plopped on the floor surrounding yourself with books on micro-economics and I gravitated toward classic fiction. I orbited your space between the shelves. We were strings and strings away from one another. Your Self had too much space between it’s own composition.  My particles were dull and sedated. Probably in a dying demention I spoke to you, words vibrating meaninglessly in half-hearted attempts to communicate untranslated feelings. 

That’s only a memory though. 

A moment that has happened and continues to happen just as they all do. Permutations and probabilities stopping at dead-ends or continuing forever, all exist. 

I watched The Fountain alone in my living room and really responded to the human parts. The point of existing before and beyond this small and most precious fragment known as our conscious human life was really drilled home. Maybe a little too obviously but probably necessarily. What sticks with me is the light, the all encompassing and infinitely bounding light. Our bodies and souls dispersed, we return to the light, all blissfully, all. In the story, every time he went away from her to find ways of scientifically prolonging her life, he lost the pieces with her that were already there. This was communicated directly and then symbolically through the cutting and eating of the small slices of tree bark in the traveling orb. It’s in our brief period of mortality that time becomes so valuable. While grounded in our experience as humans we have time.This current state and condition is precious. This exact moment will always be there, but not in this form. Enjoy the present form.

The feeling that love is on the way. 

Dependancy to another is not all the bad it’s cracked up to be. A psychologist theorizes that we seek nurturing, soothing, and security from our love and it’s healthy. If we are brought into this world under the best circumstances, we have a mother who provides these feelings of care and well being. The desire for those feelings to remain never leaves the baby turned child turned adolescent turned adult.

Another important thing to understand is…

The water doesn’t travel with a wave. It’s a vibrating movement that disturbs the water as it goes from it’s beginning all the way to it’s end at the shore. It disrupts the water as it passes, but it doesn’t travel as a mass of water. The building vibration simply uses the water as space to travel through. So the only traveling is done by the energy created from the molecules vibrating one after another.

We all move like waves, through an existence with no firm reality. We’re only noticeable because we are passing through a space. Even during the illusion of “staying put” we are moving, the Earth is spinning, our thoughts are travelling, and we are giving and receiving energy. We are all at once a wave and a space. A wave moving and affecting the empty landscape of the unfolding present. A space to be passed through by other waves, both heavenly and otherwise. 

There is no fixed point. There is no rooted home, only vibrations of varying strength that can send us around the world or leave us where we lay. 

It’s the waves that bring our two bodies into the fires of passion, gripped to one another, waves against waves, clawing, biting, gentle. Your lips moving with mine, a wave shivering my entire being. Hot skin vibrations intermingling with one another. Currents of my energy moving inside of you, deeper and deeper, waves of yours covering us in pure light. You and I catching fire. Igniting like the beginning of one star. The energy from our fusion could light cities. The friction from our touching bodies could melt a hole through the bed, the floor, and down into the earth’s core, burning like the sun. Warming the world from the inside out.

While afterward, in our own conscious reality, you lay naked on top of me. We share our sweat and breath like one wave together in the warm afterglow. Inhaling deep together, exhaling deep together. We are passing through together. 

 

 

Joshua Booth