For some reason, I am enthralled by these tiny islands. I think they are all gorgeous and the few remaining wildernesses that aren't all icy (i.e. Antarctica). Nothing against Antarctica, however! There was a Blogger Blog of Note a few months back that chronicled one man's sojourn in Antarctica. The pics were great and I wished I had saved that link to share with you. Oh well, here is what I got. Peace.
_____________________________________________
I invented a mnemonic device in college to help me through introductory physics. It was more of a way to understand the concept of quantum mechanics then an actual memory jogger. So, if the entire universe is unpredictable then, in theory, I can just sit here concentrating on that cup on the counter and at some point, maybe in a second or maybe in a millennium, the cup will come to me. The only limitation is my own life.
I found the entire thought a bit spooky. Anything can really happen if stretched along a long enough time line. It was hauntingly clever and it lingered on my mind, a neural aftertaste.
I also took a geography class in college. The professor talked about a pet project of his on the last day of class. a day where most of the students showed up drunk, if even at all. He blasted the standard, ho-hum globe that did nothing to show the true makeup of our planet. The Pacific Ocean isn't just a swath of blue with a bunch of speckles to the eastern end. The big blue space between the green of New Zealand and the barely purple dot of Easter Island is full of islands too! The professor wanted to create a true globe that would render the planet looking like a spherical colanders colored in the neons and pastels of average cartography. He also told us there are decidedly less oceanic islands in the Atlantic. He was fine with the current presentation of that ocean. For now.
I think too much when I try to go to sleep. I hit the lights at 1am, but do not fall asleep till 3 am, 2:30 am if I am lucky. I am tired, but my body won't fall asleep. I thought this was due to some chemical imbalance and that a pill would help solve it all. However, for all of junior fall, I remained in bed. Thinking.
If quantum mechanics is right, I thought, then the universe could burp up some little wrinkle in space time and suck me into it. I dremt about this once and imagined I woke up naked on an island. More of an islet, as in a quick 30 paces I can cross the length of it. Scrubby grass pokes from the center of the sand bar. A trio of coconuts throws up their young fronds into the air like snails pulling wheelies on the back of their foot. I don't know why I am naked. I never have slept naked in my life. Apparently the dynamics of my teleport also favored the possibility of all my clothes coming off.
All the islands have names.
Tromelin Island.
Bassas de India.
Bouvet Island.
Howland Island.
Niue.
Henderson Island.
Desecheo.
They all look the same; that's the catch.
I did not wake up immediate. After realizing there was nothing to this blister than just the circle of sand and ankle-high jungle in the middle, I tried to panic. I tried to scream and run around the circumference of the earthly pimple, ripping up vines and sending the coconuts back into the sea. However, in retrospect, it was a dream and I only shivered. The wind came over the ocean and only clinked against the low sides of the islet. I studied the tides in the moonlight. I hadn't noticed there was a moon till that moment. I find out how far up the water reached and then lay down on my stomach. I clawed my fingers into the edge where the damp sand of the constant side meets the dry, loose sand unaffected by water. I stretched out y legs as far as they could go, wanting to hear something pop. The soles of my feet can't reach the scrub in the middle, but then wind kicked up again and throws a bit of spray over the island. I felt like the island was all mine. From tip to tip, I was engulfing the land like an oil slick. I knew I did not reach that far, but I stayed anchored.
Then I woke up.
I invented a mnemonic device in college to help me through introductory physics. It was more of a way to understand the concept of quantum mechanics then an actual memory jogger. So, if the entire universe is unpredictable then, in theory, I can just sit here concentrating on that cup on the counter and at some point, maybe in a second or maybe in a millennium, the cup will come to me. The only limitation is my own life.
I found the entire thought a bit spooky. Anything can really happen if stretched along a long enough time line. It was hauntingly clever and it lingered on my mind, a neural aftertaste.
I also took a geography class in college. The professor talked about a pet project of his on the last day of class. a day where most of the students showed up drunk, if even at all. He blasted the standard, ho-hum globe that did nothing to show the true makeup of our planet. The Pacific Ocean isn't just a swath of blue with a bunch of speckles to the eastern end. The big blue space between the green of New Zealand and the barely purple dot of Easter Island is full of islands too! The professor wanted to create a true globe that would render the planet looking like a spherical colanders colored in the neons and pastels of average cartography. He also told us there are decidedly less oceanic islands in the Atlantic. He was fine with the current presentation of that ocean. For now.
I think too much when I try to go to sleep. I hit the lights at 1am, but do not fall asleep till 3 am, 2:30 am if I am lucky. I am tired, but my body won't fall asleep. I thought this was due to some chemical imbalance and that a pill would help solve it all. However, for all of junior fall, I remained in bed. Thinking.
If quantum mechanics is right, I thought, then the universe could burp up some little wrinkle in space time and suck me into it. I dremt about this once and imagined I woke up naked on an island. More of an islet, as in a quick 30 paces I can cross the length of it. Scrubby grass pokes from the center of the sand bar. A trio of coconuts throws up their young fronds into the air like snails pulling wheelies on the back of their foot. I don't know why I am naked. I never have slept naked in my life. Apparently the dynamics of my teleport also favored the possibility of all my clothes coming off.
All the islands have names.
Tromelin Island.
Bassas de India.
Bouvet Island.
Howland Island.
Niue.
Henderson Island.
Desecheo.
They all look the same; that's the catch.
I did not wake up immediate. After realizing there was nothing to this blister than just the circle of sand and ankle-high jungle in the middle, I tried to panic. I tried to scream and run around the circumference of the earthly pimple, ripping up vines and sending the coconuts back into the sea. However, in retrospect, it was a dream and I only shivered. The wind came over the ocean and only clinked against the low sides of the islet. I studied the tides in the moonlight. I hadn't noticed there was a moon till that moment. I find out how far up the water reached and then lay down on my stomach. I clawed my fingers into the edge where the damp sand of the constant side meets the dry, loose sand unaffected by water. I stretched out y legs as far as they could go, wanting to hear something pop. The soles of my feet can't reach the scrub in the middle, but then wind kicked up again and throws a bit of spray over the island. I felt like the island was all mine. From tip to tip, I was engulfing the land like an oil slick. I knew I did not reach that far, but I stayed anchored.
Then I woke up.
_____________________________________
I always feel dirty after writing first-person monologues and trying to hawk it as a story or even an exercise. This style is completely "do-able," but I always feel iffy. However, I realize that this is all in my head. Entire novels could be considered first-person monologues/narratives (American Psycho, much?), so I am happy I got this out in one piece. Stutter-steps and half-starts. That is FOP writing. Peace, again!
No comments:
Post a Comment