the garden path (a guided meditation)

I'm going to take this thread of your mind and twist it unravel it, don't worry just trust me, follow my footsteps leading down a garden path, sunlight leaves under an arch of boughs--to the edge of the garden is a cliff over which we smooth and zoom through the water, waves, ocean, and underneath? keep moving--


here again its morning we’re in a mcdonalds in the middle of nowhere, ohio--black coffee and a mcmuffin, hold the ham--you have to pee so you stand up to walk outside. I ask you for a hamburger. you grab my arm as if to say what the fuck are you talking about (or to lean in for a kiss), but instead I fall to the ground, motionless. you start running. outside the mcdonalds is nothing but the faint impression of hills and breathlessness in the sudden cold--you still have to pee but instead you keep running to the car, leaving me behind on that beige-tiled floor--how could you do such a thing?


you’re walking on a road

and you’ve been walking for a while

great big lumps of earth in the distance and tall grass at your sides

a path cut thinly through the field and you’re walking


we're walking on a road together, and the grass is all around us but the feeling of momentary pain can’t seem to be shaken from your skull and the wind whips into your eyes--for a second the world is drowned out by sense and force and air, and then you look up and I'm gone.

you're walking on a road, the grass is up to your chest and the lights are far between, there's a path cut thinly along the highway, and you're walking.


time passes like never-ending twilight and there isn’t a feeling but forward motion, your only goal is to keep walking--the fly swats in your way, the smell of dead earth and living air, the way the no one calls and the enormity of the emptiness beyond the ridge edge eyeline sightline byline wayside---can't be thought about. you’ve reached a town, but there aren’t any people in it--they pass but don’t look into your eyes. they scatter as you walk their dusty street and they move past, around, and through you but you aren’t theirs--they don’t mind, they can’t mind, there is no mind, are you the only one who looks? no matter--you're out of town now and the road stretches before beneath between you and sooner or later it always comes back and every time you walk it’s alone and further past the hills. and maybe you’ll find another mcdonalds in the morning, or maybe a soft delectable piece of mind to hold for a second, but the feeling of walking and knowing the road you're always lost on never leaves


maybe you’re looking for a crossroads--and maybe one day you’ll finally see it--but how long can you wait there for your travelling companion to arrive? how long can you walk and not realize that now you have to wait and not realize that this road alone takes you nowhere but the next empty town and the next empty eyes? face in the ground damp in the dirt morning comes as snow on dead grass and the possibility of something new


listen—you’re walking on a road, and it’s starting to spring. the sun rises over newly-blackened fields and a sense of readiness knows in the hills--let it sweep you out with wandering and the feeling of going home, and keep walking


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