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Nov. 13th, 2010 05:50 pmPassing this threshold, you marvel at what difference you find in every part of the world and then a contingent of space aliens comes. They wear suits. They say together,
Finally you have realized there is nothing to be done. Now you know everything that any of us know. Now you see that life is just now and now beyond you. You'd regret having ever tried except it no longer matters. The sun heats the earth till the earth spins round into color and music and finally death. And what heats the sun we don't know, and if anyone did they'd still not know what heated that what. And so what. Enjoy heat, color, music and death and shut up.
Or they wear t-shirts and say,
Finally you have realized there is everything to be done. Now you know that it is you who must do it. Will anyone else? If so, they probably already have been, and look where that got us. No, it was you we were waiting for, to lift up your corner, build your machine from the fragments of others' spread 'round. The earth's incomplete. The sun's incomplete. You must scaffold the world and stoke the sun. That this often just looks like replacing the cap on the milk is important. It is important you never quite know if what you've done is right. You might get airs and stop. You must continue, must go on to do and to speak and shut up.
And either way they have a drink with you before leaving, and all of you stare down the slope to where the waters mingle and fall and part and reach their hundred seas under thousands of skies full of lights beyond number.
Finally you have realized there is nothing to be done. Now you know everything that any of us know. Now you see that life is just now and now beyond you. You'd regret having ever tried except it no longer matters. The sun heats the earth till the earth spins round into color and music and finally death. And what heats the sun we don't know, and if anyone did they'd still not know what heated that what. And so what. Enjoy heat, color, music and death and shut up.
Or they wear t-shirts and say,
Finally you have realized there is everything to be done. Now you know that it is you who must do it. Will anyone else? If so, they probably already have been, and look where that got us. No, it was you we were waiting for, to lift up your corner, build your machine from the fragments of others' spread 'round. The earth's incomplete. The sun's incomplete. You must scaffold the world and stoke the sun. That this often just looks like replacing the cap on the milk is important. It is important you never quite know if what you've done is right. You might get airs and stop. You must continue, must go on to do and to speak and shut up.
And either way they have a drink with you before leaving, and all of you stare down the slope to where the waters mingle and fall and part and reach their hundred seas under thousands of skies full of lights beyond number.
