As I sat outside bathing my face in the warm sun, of an intensity reminiscent of summer, I realized that I am still that scrawny boy of eight. I am taller, grander but still small; I am insignificant.
Under the auspice of childhood, I re-enacted my fantasies, I saw myself as the chief actor. I was the God of the Jews; I participated in my creation. The world was reduced to a stage, upon which I played every conceivable rôle; all eyes were on me. But not really, no-one really cared, and I knew this. And it wasn’t just that no-one cared, the World did not care. I could have failed in my acrobatic pantomimes, taken a fatal step, lost my footing and fallen. Were I to arise, albeit injured, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Had I broken my neck and my bloos seeped into the soil, it still wouldn’t have mattered. I was nothing.
I walked away; I stopped caring about the world. Why should I care?
Now, in the guise of an adult, I continue to re-enact similar fantasies, though they are now more complex, more absurd. But they are different; I am different.
So I sat outside, not knowing what to do with myself, worshipping the memories of New Mexico. It is a land of quiet skies filled with rolling fluffy clouds, imbricated over vast stretches of emptiness. It is a state of endless summer days, gorgeous days that always seem to start, but never seem to end. California has endless blue skies, but not a cloud in sight; they are oceans without sailors, without adventurers – without humanity.
New Mexico has this wonderful smell, of rain mixed with its caramelized dirt with a hint of lavender. I smelt it the second day that I arrived and I continued to delight in its newness, in its magick for an entire week. New Mexico welcomed me home, spilling forth endless water – a deluge. I was in awe, mesmerized by rain in summertime. I had come and liberated this land from its drought.
I shall miss New Mexico. I love New Mexico, but foremost, I love what it represents: utter desolation. Here, I relearnt to be alone. I rediscovered the joy in reading. I will definitely miss it, after all, it has left me with many a sad and beautiful memories.
To-morrow: warm kisses; hugs; smiles; faux-smiles (Jess loves these); delicious food at El Farol; awkwardness; laughter; conversations; mirth; and perhaps some tears. I shall experience many faces of humanity. I can hardly wait. Oh, I almost forgot to add to the medley: photos!