by Jim Meirose.
stop
Do not look up at the sky, it is much too large, and you are very very much smaller under it, and must stop knowing that. So; look down, and stop knowing. Do not look out, head into the miles-thick transparent reach of nothing, no, not at that horizon which always stays the exact number of whatever you measure things by ahead of you. It is so tantalizing so very very tantalizing and you will never reach it. Think of it. Think of it. In a way in a way it is in a way some sort of part of you, of you, it moves as you move, you step out it slides out the same exact distance you stepped. And. And. And like you, and as you walk, the world (so they say it it that at all NO NOT NOW) slides by under you so easily, slowly, no snagging, no need for lubrication. It is a slide lubed forever, of the order of {do not blaspheme or mock the word of God, sayeth the throne up someplace}; well, all right, okay while I may seem to be blaspheming and mocking the “word of God,” please remember I am nothing less than I ever was. I have nothing, and that may be forever, and {{that I something you know of God, you know how this final misery will end, so ////////why don’t you tell me if I am ////////doomed///////////// tell me in your mercy, so I may lie down here and stop trying because trying is hard, and if I will not be delivered at the end, that is something you know right now; so have pity and tell me. }} Have pity, and say, Lie down now and soon it will be over—I mean, it makes no sense, anyway. You said keep on trying, and keep on pushing, and if you have faith you will have your reward. And, you say this while knowing if or not I’ll succeed, then the following realities may one of the other or both even be; 1.) If you know that I will succeed why punish me by making me struggle to within an inch of my strength to gain something that was waiting for me to have the whole time, regardless of if I worked hard enough or not? Was this not lying to me, and deceiving me? And, 2.) If you know I will not succeed yet encourage me and tell me to keep trying and that if I strive hard enough, I will have my reward, was this all a cruel lie to me? If I was unchangeably doomed, why keep a false hope alive in me? Have you some need to see the doomed suffer as much as possible before they receive their punishment? Yes, their punishment which all along you knew they could never escape, no matter what they did, or didn’t do? Is that not cruel? Are you a cruel God? Are you too cruel, if cruel at all? I see them coming they’re coming, they are glowing white why you send them? Oh, I bet, it’s how I “got your goat,” oh my God, I “got your goat” and you’re sending these to sweep me up and what it is //upwake// bright and yes, the morning out here has come again.
The Caretaker rose to their feet, and the morning made them aware once more that they were not hungry, and thirsty, and—catching sight of the sky, they looked down. Fearful of something, but—wait a minute, no, what’s there to fear but, okay now, why am I not hungry or thirsty? It has been a whole hell of a long time, eh?
Catching sight of the far horizon, they looked down. Fearful of something, but—wait a minute, no, what’s there to fear but, okay now, we are, I am you will or we all were at some point looking down at—a pebble. See it. There, among the pebbles. Has anyone or anything seen that exact pebble before? Since there are trillions over trillions of pebbles o’er the face of the land ///there have to be, have to be, having confidence that this is true does not take a terribly great brain/// So, bend down, let down on one knee, lean into it, reach out, thumb and forefinger ready and get it and lift it and bring it to your eye, the surface. Is complex. If not. Then look closer. Because, yes. It is very complex. Across its face there are pits, scrapes, gouges. The stone is mottled in color. Black specks and veins, red dots and—look whoa-wow, there’s a crack all across, long and deep looking, as though it’s the margin of a “stony flake” that could shear off and—God! God! So much to study, so much to know. And that was just part of it. Turn it to see more. Star shapes. Cloudy, mottled, veiny, but—at the same time, not. And. It is not round {{{but it looked to be so }}} but no no no, it is not. It is not one clearly defined shape. Turn it this way it it oval. Turn it that way it is flattened. Thurn it a third way, it is—impossible. Look up from it, see its universe spread ‘cross the ground. Of all these trillions of trillions all around, this one’s this one. Why did this one get picked up? Did you really pick it up? Did you really—but. The sky, and horizon, and underfoot swirl, and wrap all r’ ‘round—huh? Must be, ‘cause of this stone. It’s not just any one. It is a special one. Sky, and horizon, and underfoot, go away(!) or, I will toss it back into its nothing. You better listen, yes, better better listen, or else it’s else I will, but—all clears. It’s at last morning. Clear. Good day for walking. Yes God I can keep on. Which way. That way? Good.
Step out.