Early yesterday , the time of brunch the sun to the left of the sky,when the leaves are burnished copper and all or most is shadow,I took my son to the park and brought a book as I always do( though I never read them ) too interested in the oddity of things and my sons safety from the Earth, its forces against his frail bones, and general fate itself to really read the words, do more than lift the book like a totem to shush away people or animals or both, insects perhaps.
There are the cigarettes and the trees, the eyes downcast of others, some quiet, others brazen. A Gentleman with fishing pole and white bucket, fishnet cap on, inevitably representing a sports team or company of some sort( I never knew he didn’t turn around), merely looked at his line unmoving in the pond, the ducks flying overhead.
I wore a full denim outfit,despite the weather, which is hot by any standard. I prefer a full type of dress during all occasions, I am prepared for actions, can go into different environments, these are my reasons, on paper they sound like the ravings of a lunatic, but so do many of the things I am supposed to process as normal in my life as a functionary in a vast piece of ordnance designed by something or someone to do something for someone or something, none of us really knows if we know that we know, or how to question it if we did or what a question of something that is a paradox itself represents.
I noticed despite my state of anxious but pleased reverie, a gentleman in a shirt that I envied, (I envy anything authentic), and the shirt was itself and for that and that alone I judged him my type of person and herded him out from under the suspicious cloud of my social mistrust of strangeness or difference, and began to speak. I offered him a cigarette, he accepted. We sat and I listened to him ramble, I didn’t really need to hear his words, it was more a fugue, in his endless harangue I heard the voice of those different but the same as I, I knew I would go home and pore over words and thoughts, to try to come to grips with the meeting of this one human, and there will be more meetings,more humans, and ill be expected to act accordingly.
While Llewellyn for that was the monichre of the gentleman in the fancy rodeo shirt from the 90’s , was rolling a cigarillo of herbs, I pretended not to notice, I spoke of Wittgenstein, we both spoke knowing we wouldn’t understand each other, just bouncing our voices off of each other like sounding boards for some speech we had to give, but we had no speech to give, and yet it wasn’t odd. From a distance we saw a well dressed African gentleman, with a tie, impeccable glasses, even one hundred yards away ,I knew he would wear fantastic cologne, have a more fastidious bathroom sink than I. Inevitably he was a Jehovahs witness ( I have no irritation toward these people, and speak to them as I would anyone else, being a cock isn’t really ok for reasons we have). and he began to approach , I saw the tale tell sign of pamphlets in his hand and a heather grey bible, beautiful and well footnoted. His name was Dewayne, and other than a sense of mutual respect and incomprehension of each others fundamental rationales nothing had occurred in the whirl of our 15 minute orbit of each other.
Dewayne departed and Llewellyn lit his cigarillo and handed it to me, I accepted without thought, I glanced at the lake and the fountains, joggers passed, thoughts on goals, longer life, their age, dates they must go on, when they must return to work, my son slides happily , he has met two young girls.
Somehow that is all, I learned everything and nothing, but this is how all encounters seem to be of late, prophetic, pregnant with meaning, love and something alien and missing from what Ive been told the world contained, in it i feel a hot warmth, a breathing mammalian pulse from the very center of all life and know that Im not wasting mine and my children’s time, all is for play.