Pocket Full of Seeds

The following is a brief characterization, a study in street level thoughts—including phrases from the little voice within…

Wear good shoes. Who said that? In all this stress!? Who made up this complex stuff anyway? Why do people keep on fighting and fighting? What’s the economy gonna do? Now there’s another flood. People are losing it. And look at what’s on my back, bills, the house, work sucks right now. The kids are OK, they understand—but they’re stressed, too, and quieter.  I turn on the news—there’s another shooting. Only, this one’s local, or somewhere, I don’t know. I’m all confused. The Middle East is crashing, what about Saudi Arabia, or Lebanon, or Greece, or California? And I don’t know if the weather’s more severe or not. I didn’t keep charts. Winter comes every year, doesn’t it? I’d go to the mall, but I get claustrophobic. I wanna be out—in the open.

Everywhere. What do you mean ‘everywhere’?” I’m stuck on the history channel. I wanna know about things, things I’d didn’t get a chance to learn in school. I feel like I have to absorb it all so quick. Romans, Greeks, Sumerians, Mesopotamia, Egypt, Turkey, The Balkans, Europe, India. The despots, the lost civilizations. I wanna see the old stone, artist renditions, almost like I remember it. Weird?

Patterns. Oh, it keeps coming on—anxiety—and everybody’s so wrapped up. So tight. Collective apprehension, hehe. Drive here and there and the vibe is on the street. Oh yeah, they’re nice in the line up, polite, but back on the street it’s edgy, like ‘go away, you—‘. Not all the time. I shouldn’t say that everybody is weird. Some people shine. I recognize that. And then some jerk brings me down. Up and down. Up and down the ladder. I’m getting tired of this pattern.

Over the hills. Where is Lebanon? I can’t picture the Middle East—I have no reference or scale. Here it’s just rain. Rain and gray. Rain and rain and rain and gray. How big is it there? How far do you have to drive? —to see a park, or to watch someone play music? Is the coffee good? Or does it rot your gut, like here? Teach me your ways. I want to grab handfuls of sand and embrace dust of ancestors, turn around, and see if it reminds me—sends me somewhere over the hills I can’t quite put into focus. That would be wild, to track down the ancients, to go waaay back. Doubtful, though, if I’ll get the chance. I just like it here. I’m still finding this place. I have to get psyched up to travel. Everyone’s such a fatalist, “I have to have it now.” Who cares? Whatever. It’ll come round. Vacations, I mean.

Pocket full of seeds. You know what I really want? One of those little pocket helicopters. It runs on batteries, remote control, I dunno—fifty foot range? It’s a toy. Reminds me of my youth, I guess. This would have been a cool toy. Zip, zoom, travel the room. Man, they have cool toys for kids now. With all the junk they have now—I’d a been off in my head for hours. Like a bird… Hey, I got some seeds. Seriously, a big bag of seeds—twelve bucks. I store it right under the shelf at the kitchen window. Toss a handful on the window box. Sure enough, birds start showing up. I don’t know what they all are—little guys—finches, sparrows? Two of the little buggers are pretty bold, they come right up, even if I stick my head out the window. Zip, zoom, they come right up and land, I can hear their little feet smack. If I put my head low enough, and stay still—and don’t even look at them—they fly right up next to me, I can almost hear them breathing. And then they squawk, or skittle, and chirp—then they’re gone. They flutter, real fast, brrrrrrd, hehe.

A little voice told me. You get that? Impending doooom. I thought it was vitamins, so I started on a soy-based, organic, no artificial, protein powder. It’s actually really good. Grrrrrrr—one minute in the blender. I just add some juice—the vanilla flavor is best—first thing in the morning. It’s a bit frothy—use a spoon. Smmmooothie. So, yeah, I can see why some people are stressed. Probably just some collective morbidity, is that how you say it? Nothing new, really. No stress. Make what you want, and all that. It’s your life. People freak out all the time. Welcome to Earth. Didn’t you read the brochure? And me? I’m so beyond that. 2012—poof! See, I can’t control anything, so I just enjoy. The universe is soooo big—we’re just a blip. I know that because I get premonitions. Oh, yeah, real premonitions. It’s hard to explain… things line up, like a events. One day you’re going through your routine and then something catches your eye, a little flash. Then you turn to see something else, and its related, but you wouldn’t know it, if you didn’t turn and look. It’s hard to explain.

Periscope up.
Whaaat? I try not to think about everything. Maybe my life is boring. Maybe I should just start walking. It’s a big universe. I mean some star could pop and we’d never know it. Wake up one morning and the alarm doesn’t go off—it’s melted, hehe. Yeah, maybe that’s why I like the Discovery Channel stuff, makes me look at the universe. There’s whole dimensions out there—whatever they are. We could be in one right now. Imagine that, this our dimension, but there’s all these different ones just floating around. That’s why this earthbound stuff doesn’t bother me. I could be just thinking this right now. I am a fluffy dog eating candy by the fireplace. I don’t have a master, but I have a family. Do you have kids? I don’t know if I want kids. Maybe we are our own kids—spooooky. I don’t mean like our own own kids, but maybe I’m my great, great grandmother. Or her dog, hahaha.

The wonder starts slowly. So I get smart. My neighbor’s shed is all overgrown and the roof’s gonna give out. Yeah—and I have to park next to it. It’s got leaves and twigs all over. I tried to pressure wash the worst off, but if you don’t get up there on a ladder—I’m afraid I’ll blast his shingles off. So, I get an idea. Throw a bunch of birdseed up there. Bingo. Birds are stripping away all that peat and moss like a little work crew. It’s cool, I just move them along each day. They scratch and clean—now you can see the whole peak. The roof looks good. They’re working near the eaves. What am I out? A few bucks? I like those little buddies—the finches.

Forward, freely.
Stars collide, man. Happens all the time. Makes all this seem small. Somebody said that joy is mortar, concrete in another dimension. Was that you, Gaboo? We make it here, the joy, then we export it somewhere else—build stuff with it. Sort of like, if you think it—a universe can pop up somewhere. I mean, that’s what I’m doing—thinking, plopping out universes. Everywhere I go. Lalalala. Cool, heh? What a job! But if you get down—if we get sad and blue—well, we slow down the universe—dark matter stuff. Everything spreads away from us, cools everything down, makes it all dead. So, like, that’s my job—creating universes. I don’t even get an office. I just cruise around spreading joy. Plop, plop, plop. But hey, I had to give up a lot to do this. I mean, I don’t eat what doesn’t lie itself down on my plate. I eat a lot of rice and corn, nuts, beans, vegetables—and I have to watch what I say—so I don’t spread bad vibes. You know, drain the joy. That slows me down a fair bit, thinking things through. I’m learning how to think things through. They’re right about that karma stuff, you know it. Comes around, goes around. But it’s a little different, and not so clear cut. It’s more like “whatever must be done, will be done.” That takes a lot of heat off of my head, more time to create universes. Lalalala. Plop, plop.

All things return to the ground. Sure, I hear ya, even the crows.

 

Pocket Full Of Seeds © 2011 Gaboo for now.readthisplease. Read more Gaboo opinions and experiential writing experiments, click here.

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4 Responses to “Pocket Full of Seeds”
  1. Adrienne says:

    You have a wonderful voice G, and you just planted a field of thought. Thanks for this on… let me check…yes, another grey morning.

    • Gaboo says:

      With you, Adrienne, there’s always a sunshine spark somewhere. Thanks for popping in to read! I am humbled.

  2. Amanda S says:

    Yikes Gaboo, me thinks you had quite a lot of coffee this morning. So many thoughts packed into that little bouncing head of yours.

    • Gaboo says:

      Thank You@u Amanda! Yes, a glimpse into the ruminating mind. I meet a lot of people on the street who ramble like this and hope to catch the essence. Bouncing a tennis ball of happiness at you… catch!

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