Innocence. It's the most important part of childhood (yet God guarantees nothing). The longer you can keep it the better off you are. Mine ended one day throwing rocks into a swelling pond after a few rainy days. When other boys threw their rocks in, vast ripples were made and, hell, watching the waves was half the fun of throwing in the rocks. But mine simply sank with no ripples at all.
"Whoa, how did you do that?"
An innocent question from an innocent time. Later, we all "grow up" to become judgmental and righteous over anything different, but as kids we're more open-minded (and therefor more intelligent). But I said I couldn't explain it even after I duplicated it several times. As I began to think about it, though, I became ashamed and concerned about something I couldn't explain. For days afterwards I'd throw rocks on my own but never a ripple was made. How the fuck does one explain defying the laws of physics??
So, I never threw rocks again in the sight of others. Most of the time it didn't bother me but it always lingered in the back of my mind that I'd have to avoid natural bodies of water. I refused a scouting trip to go camping because I knew it was by a lake. There wasn't a soul alive I could tell why. I started to separate myself from others, the shame snowballing in secret consternation. It was the beginning of the running.
Who could I have a relationship with? I'd have to lie. If she ever discovered my secret, then what? Would she have the absolute faith it would take to believe there was nothing wrong with me despite this inexplicable phenomena? No, that's too much to expect. I'd get my heart broken for sure. I stopped doing any outside activities to lay the groundwork for not being an "outdoor person". I kept obsessing on how to not be discovered until it became a full time job.
Forever forbidden. Un-fucking-believable.
Every once in a while I'd hike out on my own and try a few rocks. The wrenching emotions as I'd trek up to the water like Charlie brown with the football. This time will be different! It just has to be! But, of course, hope is forbidden. I cursed God and prayed for God to die so I'd be free of this prison because who else could cause this to happen? Who in human history has ever been cursed as I am? I decided I had a right to be angry with God - until I realized that mattered not. Nothing would change my situation, right or wrong.
I even tried going to a counselor because that's what you're expected to do even though I had no faith in it whatsoever. She kept thinking - insisting - that I was speaking metaphorically. Worst part was when I said I could prove it to her I chickened out. I really didn't want anyone else to know my secret with certainty. So that flamed out. Then I started a blog.
My readers were like the counselor, thinking I was speaking metaphorically. By this time I'd learned what to expect and could manipulate them. Everyone read their own shit into what I wrote, as if looking into a mirror. How could anyone possibly suspect I was telling the absolute truth? I found out a lot about people that way, but I never found an answer. God damn.
In the evening time, I sit alone in the dark. I see the point of nothing. Eating and not eating are the same. I can say words of truth that literally no one can understand. And because I fear to remove all doubt by demonstrating proof, no one will ever know of my dilemma. At this point, I'd have to show the whole world, become freak of the year, and be branded in infamy for all time. It's such a trivial thing in so many ways yet so horrific in its nature and consequence.
I will die without knowing. And I do know I'd be crucified if found out by the wider world. People are savages and attack what they don't understand (because what they do understand about themselves is bad). I'd be called a con artist or a trickster, deceiving everyone with my ripple-less rocks. I can just imagine the phony "scientific" explanations offered because science is a religion trusted by the angry masses. In a way, I understand. It's no fun being confounded. The only thing that makes sense to me is that if Jesus were to return I know I could tell him without fear or hesitation - and maybe even get an explanation.
But lacking that I'm stuck in solitary confinement for life. I feel rage, overflowing and out-of-control. It's a constant battle not to let the despair overwhelm me. I have no choice but to operate on faith as I must live with something no human can quantify, you damn dirty apes. I'm sure somewhere in the universe there's an explanation, one that is beyond science and our puny understanding. With our morbid outlook on life I even wonder if my curse is actually a gift in disguise, something beyond our power to reason yet can still be appreciated.
So now I've told you without really telling you. I'm writing a script where you unknowingly recite lines per my intent. You'll walk away vaguely unsatisfied but won't be able to get to the bottom of it. The only way it could possibly make sense would be to accept I'm telling the actual truth. But that can't be! you'll say to yourself as I have you join in my perpetual frustration and conundrum. It's a sad game nobody wins that we are compelled to play. My only solace is in knowing revelation will have its day in all things and then everyone will know and understand. I live dependent on the kindness of the universe.
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