What words can I say that have not already been spoken? What paths can I walk that have not already been worn down by feet surer than mine? What monuments can I build that were not already built and demolished or long ago forgotten? What new and original and pure and true thing can I offer in this world of repetition and fallaciousness? What do I have to give, and who will be the one to say to me, "I want that" and hold thier hands out for me to fill?
I sat on the fence and I let both yards of grass grow equal alongside of me. But then nails and boards came loose and I was tossed to one side and while they had looked equal, when I landed I looked up and found myself in a barren field. There were no blades of grass, no harvest this year and I felt it like a slap in the face or a punch in the stomach. I tried to make an offering. I even had my head bowed and my hands clasped and I said, "Take." But this sort of thing is really give and take isn't it? Scratch my back and I will scratch yours if my hands are not tired right?
Maybe it was because I had no insight, no real direction. I did not think it through. All I thought was mine, joy, forever, mine. Mine, mine, mine and me, me, me I guess was not the correct giver's attitude. But I thought I was not alone in my want, my need, and if I got my wish and shared it then wouldn't that be ours, ours, ours and us, us, us? Funny how that works. Because right now I am looking at the grass on the otherside of a line that I cannot seem to cross and I am weeping alone. It is me, me, me who is crying in the dirt. I don't see you, you, you anywhere. And when I looked for you to dry my eyes, hold my hand, stroke my head and tell me lies of better days all I saw was my, my, my reflection.
So where the hell are you? Where did you go? Why... Why what I am not sure exactly... but it could be a good opener. Just why? For once just give me an explanation. I need to know because the not-knowing is what made my fence break in the first place. Shoddy craftmanship on your part and I trusted you too much to ask for a warranty. And while I may learn something from this episode, I know that I will not retain it. You will come to me again with your hammer, nails, and wood and ask to build on my land and I will oblige. And I will watch you from my window, and nod approvingly, trusting you completely to not screw me over. And a new diaster will strike and I will named fool again. Maybe next time I should just go to Home Depot and build my own damn fence.
