Epistle. To: Berlin Film Actress

Yea of course the rapture didn't happen either. And after all that advertising.  How do you face down the end of the world anyway? Despite the advance publicity - and ahem a world wide following of millions  - yet here we are as the world keeps right on going. Did you ever think that maybe god is laughing? Or even the text we're presented with is nothing but laughter? It was a bad enough movie back in the day. Maybe Mimi Rogers was just trying to get over the break up with Tom Cruise? Forget that business with the white horse with wings as the jail breaks down... I'm glad to call in and say that the tulips are fine and am having a meal with fresh asparagus from my neighbor's backyard garden. There's nothing to do about it. Wouldn't heaven just confuse you anyway? Why believe in hell other than a sick bedtime story to scare the pants off you and so you developed a fondness for horror movies later on? And as ever - tempting the fateful strings of this life - I scratched around in the garden yesterday. Took a pain med and fuck it let's see what happened later. A lovely hot spring afternoon. Slowly, back and forth, a zen-like rake though by no means was this an attempt to establish credentials. What I really wanted to happen was to go deeper. With a shovel. Turn upside down what was the low dirt in the vegetable box and move it up closer into the air. But it didn't happen that way. For obvious reasons. I keep reminding myself.  Even though I dislike having a self to be reminded about, it's still fun to do it! And pushing the surface back and forth was work plenty. It's still the wound and all that. I try and do stuff before a calamity sets in. An experience really. A fall back moment where engagement stops and a little wire in the brain sends out a warning signal that begins to echo oh-oh in the ears. This is like being reminded what a fool it is to have a body. And speaking honestly - well maybe just this side of a lie - wouldn't want to fall into a habit one way or the other - but having a thought about the evening was enough to have me stop. Pain in the future is a big enough suck anyway. If this were a spy thriller there would be coded language to decipher and it would read abort mission. Not that I'll ever get the girl in this script but hey! But hey - despite fear of the future - and the future does not exist but it is here anyway like a twister puzzle in the back pages of a comic - what was happening was so entirely pleasant. The sunlight - the dirt - the pain med - someone across the street was strumming a guitar - figuring out for later which plant goes where and so on - was like being swept into a lost afternoon - was like having shangri-la tossed at your feet - well maybe for only an hour or so just this side of honestly. That's the problem and the beauty. Even though living was as burdensome as ever it was I can say it was deeply satisfying to be poking around outdoors. A sideways glance at the marvelous even.