I don’t move

August 30, 2018 § 2 Comments

My roots grow so deep that I can no more move. I shake, I stretch, but I don’t move. It feels like I will be here forever, long after everything is gone. But I know the world moves, and so do the galaxies. And the universe stretches, and yawns and scratches-but it doesn’t move either. At least relatively to itself. Am I the universe?

My mind runs away on its own, but I don’t move. When it is called to reality, it reminds me that I haven’t moved. When you don’t move, things that do move settle down on you. Sediments and old trees that turn into rocks and oil. Will America invade me? I don’t know, but I would like to visit it someday but without standing in a queue outside their embassy. What do they even protect? They seem to have nothing to call their own and so will claim everything as theirs, every sweat that ever was perspired is a patent.

I don’t move, I am here. The heart, as we put it remains stoic and pumps blood like it should. There are no dams here, or deluges, maybe someday there will be, but for now, it is a mechanical being without emotions, without a feeling. Maybe there will be a pain someday, maybe it will stop for a moment, and then I will move, if only for that moment. And then be everywhere forever, scattered ashes, fed to the seas, along with trash cans and sewage.

I don’t move.


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