Dear History, part two

6 04 2010

This letter was drafted “length-wise” on the page.

Oct. 27, 2008

Dear History,
Maybe if I write you sideways I’ll get another perspective on you. I know you maybe insofar as I know anything. I’ve read books about you, watched movies about your stories, and learned of how you are held in peoples hearts in different ways. Most think you are dead, at least where I come from. They speak of you in the past tesne. And so many ritualize you every day, exalt you in their prayer rooms and anguish over you in their daily lamentations. Why, oh why, History! Why did you take such and such a loved one? Why not a brief moment more of that ambrosia liquid affection that sustains our stories of ourselves?

I think I know the reason why, History. I think it’s because you really live backwards, reversing through the eons as we plummet towards you. The Universe is a giant swing and you and I play at different ends of the axis, breathing in the spaces of zero gravity and weeping when our momenta meet. Time is a parabola and we collide at the nadir before screaming back again into the space, the mystery of living. And whenever we collide, humans call it a moment of import, of insight, a moment of realization. They also call it rock bottom, because that’s where we see you the clearest and from there can see everything you have seen.



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