Sussurations

Wow, it's been a week? I am so lazy.

Extrapolations of quick jots from my fast-filling little green notebook:

Susurrations:

This is a word I learned about twelve hours before its application organically arose in the following rant. What does that say about semantics? Is there an incubation period for certain words? Do some words instantaneously fill a void in vocabulary? Or do we actively seek to find a use for our new tools?

I'm sitting in a car next to, in particular, a boy who should not be so nervous to be sitting next to me, because I'm very glad he's there. Semi-familiar music I'd like to hear more often is playing around semi-familiar people I'd like to see more often. It's not so early. But it's very very early. Night was not a thing that happened. Hardly even the sun-rise was. The grandfather clock chimed indeterminately every hour or half hour, but always so unbelievably soon after it's last chiming.

And so and then it was morning. We let it be, reduced and bonded by our weighty words to funny little noises. And he went out for a cigarette and I fell asleep and instantly afterward was woken with "Diner? New York City?." "I'm up!" And everyone was surprised to see me dressed.

(I came in alone fanning optimism and I left with people and high hopes I tried to stifle. A lovely asymmetry, if You ask me.

They are talking. I am silent. I close my inner ears trying to keep the phrases fresh. Eager to preserve the sanctity of the evening/night/dawn/morning's conversation, or maybe I am just still so full of words to digest. Mulling. Mulling. Mulling.)

As we drive, we pass many farms. A farmer sprays his crops.

I feel the sussurations of the earth call out to me. I try to rise out of myself and go down to that place inside the earth where it hurts and weep with it. My skin pinches up and my hair stands on end. The me that is me stays in my body and I know it would have done me no good to go down to that place and weep. The earth knows no difference. It fights the infection with no discretion, a fever here, a plague there. We duck into our air-conditioned buildings and take our medications.

We've found a way to deflect its curse and pass it off on those who deserve it least.

^

This thought is so incomplete from the panorama-sensation followed by the poly-sensory pictogram which presented itself on this occasion. But there You have it, for now.