The End

It’s so tempting. I really like the idea. It’s logical. It makes a lot of sense. I really want to do it. The big question is not why, but how. It’s the how I can’t get a handle on; the reason is quite clear, at least to me. I know, I know. When a person needs to make a life-changing decision, or take a step forward into uncharted territory, nothing should be done lightly. After all, one misstep and all the effort would be for naught. Naught means zero, nothing. I have never liked doing things that are useless or worthless (which might be the same thing). I like to do what’s appropriate, as they say when talking to children nowadays. Only they usually say something, some action or words, are not appropriate. Or they’re inappropriate, which is just another way of saying it…

She had been going around in circles for days now, maybe weeks, but couldn’t get beyond the recognition that it was so tempting, even though she was not convinced it was a good idea. There were so many things to take into account, so many arguments against following her heart. She was following more than her heart, though: she was following her intuition, which her whole life hadn’t been too far off. 

She was fairly smart, well, at least a bit above average, and she always tried to do the right thing, even if ‘right’ wasn’t always obvious and sometimes her willpower failed her. She had a cowardly streak in her, which was probably a characteristic that helped her appear to be a good girl long after she’d stopped being a girl. Also long after, despite her good intentions, she’d started being not such a good girl.

She needed to find a solution and the old saying about getting off the dime and moving forward was ringing in her ears. The hardest part, perhaps, was knowing she couldn’t tell anyone about her dilemma, since they wouldn’t understand how tempted she was to get off her dime or nickel or penny. They would all tell her things that wouldn’t help, even the people who had good intentions. They weren’t inside her head the way she was. 

She had too choices. The choices were based on things people had written. Two people, two ideas, both worthwhile.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer  

Beware

Beware.

Out of the ash

I rise with my red hair   

And I eat men like air.

I love this poem. It’s so harsh, so courageous. If only I had been able to meet the author. So many questions. So much temptation. I wish I could have written like her. Like her and like Dorothy, who knew so much more than she wrote. I’m a coward, and didn’t. I don’t like what I was taught and what I was never told. However, others wrote instead. I’m not doing much of that any more…

 She never said these things out loud, but I knew. I am the only one who understood her perfectly, but I couldn’t tell her. All I could do was watch that dime and see what direction she went, then follow her. Sometimes she never took a step. She would sit down on that dime, take out a book, and read. When she read aloud, I was able to keep better track of her. Then I might offer some advice, as cautiously as possible:

“You know that fellow who has a space in the flea market? He plays the guitar decently and sometimes jams with a couple of his friends. They seem really happy, swapping songs and memories amid all the second-, third-, even fifth-hand things in that place. They’re ageless, despite hair color (white) and clothing (also very used, almost colorless). They’re nice people, energetic, with a sense of humor.”

I don’t know why, but I think I’ll go to the flea market this weekend. There’s a song I’d like to request, if they know it. They must know it. Maybe it’ll help me make a decision. If I give in to temptation, so be it. Time to stop being the perennial scaredy-cat. I’m not sure where the idea. To go came from, but I’m going to follow my intuition.

She did go to the old building that had been a factory many decades ago, and I could tell it had been a good decision. I heard her go over to the trio with their guitars. She watched for a while and then spoke up:

Could you play “Imagine” by Lennon? I hope you take requests?

One of them laughed and flashed the lovely smile of the elegant, never-to-be-elderly male as he nodded to the others. Then he turned back to her, his dark brown eyes glistening.

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us, only sky

Imagine all the people

Livin' for today

Ah

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion, too

Imagine all the people

Livin' life in peace…

She was ecstatic, I could tell. Anybody could tell. Her eyes crinkled, her torso followed the flow of the song to peace she had always loved, the air was redolent of the joy we feel when our past memories fit our present memories perfectly. No trying to stretch them or tuck them in; they have returned and will stay. I was happy for her and, to be honest, I thought I could detect a hint of attraction between the guitarist and her. Not romantic love, but something of a closeness bound up in time.

Then she left and the curtain came down on the flea market stage. I followed, uneasy. She was moving her lips, and I thought she might be mouthing the words to the song that had just made her so joyous. I didn’t know she was painting with her mind, didn’t know the picture she was painting.

The hills step off into whiteness.

People or stars

Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.

Was followed by more fragments. I was reading the lines for myself, but she seemed to be mouthing them. When I said I knew her well, I was being sincere. Maybe I should have said too well.

Color floods to the spot, dull purple.

The rest of the body is all washed-out,

The color of pearl.

It’s so tempting. I really like the idea. It makes a lot of sense. I really want to do it now. The big question is not why and I know the answer to why. I just don’t know how. It’s the how I can’t decide; if a person needs to make a life-changing decision, or take a step forward into uncharted territory, it should not be done lightly. I’ve already said that. Maybe Sylvia and Dorothy and Anne can help. They saved themselves through their writing. Now I can read their writing and save myself in the same way they and so many others have done.

I think I imagine I guess we just have to take the first step and not think about how it could be the last.

I think she found peace. I hope so. Our paths have not crossed since then.