No Context Theatre Presents:

A lament for my Pony

Oh God of infinite wisdom and mercy
who made the heaven and the earth
and filled it with adorable
and delicious
creatures of meat and hair.

I question not your actions,
for surely, they are right
I question not your methods,
for surely, they have meaning
I question not your intent,
for surely, you are loving

I know that I shall live, as we all do,
and every living thing under the sun
to the existence of the very rocks and stars
Only as long as we amuse you.
But in this life, brief and pointless as it might be,
but for worshiping you,
Why did you let my pony die?

My one earthly joy
that brought me closer to peace
My one corporeal friend
whose warmth and companionship reminded me of you
My one mode of transport
as walking is difficult with this bum leg since my last pony exploded but,
I'm sure you had a good reason for that too.

You do things I cannot understand
For my mind could not encompass your meaning
The ways of the world are a mystery to me
and I must live in wonder
I must trust that you will care for me always
for you know me
You know my weakness, my frailty, my affinity for hyperbole.

People were jealous of my pony
her eyes a sparkling brook at twilight
her hair a field of ripe grainstalks
her temperment gentle as the first of June
Her strength as the storms of September

Please smite my enemies who caused her pain
who fed her too much candy
who caused her to run amuck
who left the gate open
who let her get away

I know that you have a plan for me
and a plan for them
Let me be around to see it
that I may know that you are mighty and just

I miss my pony terribly
my cart is very heavy
I know that you will set things right
that you will ease my burdens and fill me with joy

And when you have answered my prayers I will profess
your love from the highest mountains
when wrongs have been righted I will shout
your justice in the village square
when my pleas have been heard I will sing
your mercy to the wicked and goodly
When you have made my life livable again I will declare
that my Lord has given me, a pony.

I'll take painful realizations for $200

Much of my anxiety is really hubris.


Yes, that's going to leave a mark.

And some days the "fuck you" cake has frosting.

Today I discovered that what was, isn't.

What could be, won't.

What I want, I can't.




For John.

Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Everything remains as it was.
The old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no sorrow in your tone.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting, when we meet again.
---Henry Scott Holland

Ninjas

Me: so, new topic. unicorns and puppies!

Not Me: And the BEAUTIFUL BABIES THEY CREATE.
(Setting aside the obvious inter-species sex difficulties.)

Me: that's where the power of SCIENCE! comes in if we can make glowing monkeys, we can make baby unicorns with big puppy dog feet and waggly tails and wet noses. and they stab you accidentaly when they come snuggle

N.M.: But, see, being unicorns, they can turn off the stabby when they come to snuggle someone that they love, and they turn it back on when attacking hippies, mimes, and Wall Street stock brokers. For instance.

Me: no big thing. in fact, it's a feature. teaches the kids to be quick.
oh
my
god.
ok, so my brother was going into this pet store right? and as he's approaching the door there's this kid, like 4-5, who's standing just inside the automatic doors.
just standing there.
still.
until they forget that he's there, and close
*cleek* kid locks the door.
his mom is like "OHMYGOD I'm so sorry blah blah"
B is like "dude....that's genius, your kid's a Ninja!

N.M.: *snort

Me: then... as B is looking at rodents and they have that island of cages, the kid is tearing ass around the store, speeds round the corner and stops MILIMETRES from my brothers knee....looks up, takes off.....
mom again "OMG I'm so sorry etc."
B, "umm....my knee would have totally won that, and two, your kid has got lightening reflexes.
he totally wanted to be like, "when your child is 6, bring him to the stairs at the foot of the mountain that I might teach him the ways of the Ninja"


N.M.: I dunno. I might have been a little upset, but good for your brother for being Zen.

Me: no...dude.....you CAN'T be pissed at that. The small person figured out the auto door and how to hack it. that's AWESOME!
He shows problem solving and reasoning skill beyond his years, and the knack to use them for evil.
one of us, one of us

N.M.: Except that, in his zeal to hack the door, he's preventing me from smoothly performing my daily tasks.
I'd initially be upset.
Is all I'm saying.

Me: if smoothly performing your daily tasks prevents you from seeing and appreciating brief moments of awesome.....your daily tasks are totally running
your life
is all I'm saying


The End

It's almost like real life.

My cell phone wakes me up. I hit snooze a few times and check for messages. Eventually I get out of bed, stumble into the rainbox, dry off, put clothes on and apply minerals, pigments and pastes to make my face look like something else.

I go to the bus, tap my card, electrons and radio waves turn into permission. I get to work, take the pills that make me sit in my chair and pretend to be interested in the button mashing that occupies the next 8-8.5 hours of my day. I drink out of a cup so I have to take breaks to get more water so my legs don't forget they exist. I poke the buttons on my phone to send messages to people whose faces I would rather see, but I have to get by with their disembodied thoughts.

I turn the boxes full of information from people I'll never meet and places I'm not at off, push in my chair made of dinosaurs that supports this awkward phase of being, and walk back out to the bus stop. Sometimes I walk two miles to my second bus stop. it's a lovely walk along the water, I feel breeze, smell water and dirt, see sky and people doing things pass me by and sometimes even see me. On my walks I feel real. When I don't have 40 minutes, or energy, I take both buses, shuffling and swaying along with the others like pieces on a chess board with no winner.
tap the card, electrons and radio waves. The wages for my button mashing get zapped into my designated number, written on my piece of plastic.

I get home, turn my smaller box of unseen people and places on, punch up the configuration of on and off that signals the place out there somewhere to bring me food, because I can't focus enough to cook. I have to hit the keys of my idea box to make an 6-10 pattern than explains a thing to a professor I will never meet, who lives a theoretical life in some other state. I give them the numbers, they transfer other numbers across the network of encrypted mathematics and eventually a stranger comes to my door with a bag full of protein, carbohydrates, fats and chemicals made, not under sunshine but fluorescent lights, not in earth but in vats and pipes and tubes.

I sit on my secondhand couch from a warehouse of identical, practical and fleeting goods next to my partner as we both live in our laptops, the TV playing to pretend humans are talking while we work and eat and poke around until I can't keep my eyes open, I stumble back to the bedroom on my foam mattress and my pillow full of plastic thread, plug in my phone, check my alarm, and wonder why I cannot get to sleep....

And now the ocean is in my head.

In the last week, from several unrelated angles it has come to my attention that I haven't thought about what I learned in and from Hawaii in a long time. I lived there for 5 years as a teenager courtesy of Uncle Sam, and honestly it wasn't until I left that I really got involved with certain elements of the culture. I found a teacher without really looking (I find it interesting that I justify this thusly) who showed me ways of doing things that make sense in my brain. I've always felt at home on mountains and at sea, which is probably why I've landed in Seattle.
I have a thing, a project that simply must be done in a fortnight, and I've been working on it for a while. I'm looking forward to being done, to having time to focus on other things. One of the first things I'm going to do is re-read some of the books I have on how to connect with my feet again.

Yes, I'm Capt. Vague-pants of the Imprecise Infantry, 2nd Division. We've only just met. I'll warm up soon enough...