Everyone is history.
Shortly after the bombing in 1993, I was held down on the grounds of New York University
The last one held on to was you who made it worth being human.
As you read this, The Platters are singing in the 1950s on your voice calling, on dreams untold, and on falling in love again at last at Twilight Time.
Head injuries sometimes can make strange matters in the mind happen.
Among broken dreams and memories, I awoke to life after high school. In a breathtaking escape from tyrants, I bypassed security and made my way to the heavens over Grand Central Station. Peering through a bright star in the constellation, humans became small as ants as I became The Silver Surfer, the better angel of my nature in childhood that recalls what Shakespeare wrote in the 16th Century: What a piece of work is Man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form, in moving, how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! I also recall “What fools these mortals be!” said a winged creature in A Midnight Summer’s Dream.
I write you the way a pearl is produced by irritating an oyster. You were right when you wrote what we had shared together was beautiful. I just didn’t know how to give you up, Perla. I was kin to The Lord of The Underworld who shook Earth to make the gods return Persephone to his arms and kin to The Phoenix that struggled to rise from the ashes of destruction. Try to understand why this happened as Albert Einstein believed.
Mystery is the source of all true art and science.
Mystery is the name of a star that went super nova trillions of years ago. Humans looking at night skies are just beginning to see ancient light surf all distances of space and time. This insight in things cosmic is a crash course in Higher Education. “Enlighten the people, generally, and tyranny and oppressions of body and mind will vanish like evil spirits at the dawn of day”, said Thomas Jefferson in the 18th Century.
I write to turn the page to future centuries.
Everyone is history.
