As The Sailing Universe



As the sailing universe passes by. Silver tears streak amongst the sky. And the wonder and marvel unfolds its truth. Telling stories of destruction and creation both in beautiful facets.

Rain was what I heard pinging on metal. Constant rain, this city never caught a break. Riding in a dirty hauling line, the only ticket I could afford. As the dirt poncho covered me along with the darkness. Coughing and the occasional mumble or whisper. Who knows what they have seen or witnessed in their lives. Old and young flesh were in popular demand. The rumble shook everybody as the deck folded down and made a ramp at the back. The sun blocked by overcast lit only a tiny part of the deep and long hauling truck. The people to my left started to stand and I followed along. Shuffling out and down the ramp brought the city escape into view, the sound and sight of cars zipping by, floating. The rain is now light sprinkling. Blue collar jobs always have to be in some building that’s being built for people who will never even see our faces or who we are. Only reap the sweat and lives that it takes to build these corporate monoliths. Walking through the registration line was always the easiest part of the job. Scanning you into your sector and then getting the awful job you won’t ever wanna work. For me this time, luck blew my way, a chance encounter with someone I would like to say I had the pleasure of meeting.

Lance Jefferson. I had to take shipments of wires from point A to point B and all the while I had Lance in my ear talking and talking. I began to grow fond of him, nevertheless the job was wrapped up, and there we were sitting on a scaffold. The opening was on the side of the building that wedged us in between the two mega buildings.

“ Lance, how come you’re so talkative? “ I said, declaring my question perplexed him, his puzzled expression and his eyes doting around looking up at the mega building that seemed to ascend into the heavens above.

“ You can never be too talkative, think about it. ” He said,
” Oh yeah? ”
Lance stood up after I said this, and looked down. The street and bottom level are never visible when you work on buildings. The Bottom is covered by a fog, and so is the top of the building directly in front of us. Only the black void color that the building was made out of.

“ Millions of people, no billions live here in this very city and yet, we only see 10-25 max a day?!” Lance spoke sounding pretty annoyed and confused at the end. Finishing up his sentence and sighing.

“ I get it, you just wanna fumble around words with somebody “ I said confidently, Lance nodded and reached out his hand for me to grab and pull me up. He turned his back to me and walked off.

It’s been weeks and the conversation has repeated itself in my mind. The memories are hot in my mind as if I just finished the conversation. Here I sit, contemplating the past conversation in my apartment. A small can wedged between the 2000-4000th floor. The window opens with the night breeze blowing into my room. My body felt so lonely, the luminosity of advertisements touched my skin, its glow washing over my body. The striking red turning green then white, the infinite changing of color kept me awake till morning when the advertisements cut off. Only after weeks the conversation clicked in my mind, what Lance had really meant was all too clear now. Contemplation and the theory of conversation was ultimately the driving force behind his reasoning. Lance knew the odd’s of us meeting again were second to none, completing his argument. In the weeks I hadn’t seen Lance, I was growing my bank account. A ticket from California to Texas would be quite expensive, but I had managed to pay for it.

The metal zipper on the duffle bag moved effortlessly as I closed it for the last time before hopping aboard the bus. Its smell was worse than I had imagined but the windows worked. Teach lined the top of the bus, lights strobing from the front all the way to the back. The bathroom sign illuminated with a green glow. As I watched, the bodies loaded up on the bus. And just as the last person got on, the doors closed and movement began. Straights and turns, up highways and bi-ways. As we passed, the monolithic structures above us held my intrigue. Nothing more was more awe striking than looking at the full picture of the city. Building not in matching fashion dotting the skyline, it resembled a machine. And somewhere in the middle deep within the city had a heartbeat. Like veins and blood moving around pumping in and out and all around. Lance’s conversation struck me again. Reasoning only brought up more questions and more questions led to not enough answers but I had the whole ride to deal with this inner quarrel of mine. I wasn’t born in a city, but was forced to move when my mother made me go live in one. Streets and smog, lights and fights. The methodical day to day of coming home head on a swivel.

It hadn’t been long on the road when the person who had decided to sit next to me spoke up. An interesting fellow with a feminine twang muddled in his thick southern accent. His reason for visiting the great state of California was to visit his family. Someone I hadn’t heard of, someone in the city. He kept droning on about how he was so blessed to make it back to Texas. When I asked him what he thought about doing back home upon his arrival, I liked to believe when he arrived he would find what he wanted.

Time elapsed and I awoke surrounded in darkness, light pollution from cities far away. This distance had left me with this overwhelming of my senses, and a cool running of excitement hiding behind soft anxiety. I had never been outside of the state of California. Texas from what I’ve heard is open air and widening vistas, the emptiness of the sky void of rain, and clouds revealed stars, wonderful colorful stars, each twinkling waving at me. Their blips and twinkles spoke out in their own beautiful language, that’s all my eyes did, watch the stars as the bland dull landscape passed by in the window. Talking to the man next to me had made me wonder, What would I do when I reach Texas?

“ How old are you? “ I said turning to him, he picked out his ear bud and faced me,
“42” He said.
“ What do you do in Texas? “ I said, the open question was a dead giveaway. The man then sighed, taking the hat off and setting it on his knee.
“ You can’t find out what’s gonna happen before it happens, there’s no point in asking for a fortune to get told if what getting told is gonna happen “ I pondered his question more and more for a solid 3 minutes in silence, the hum of the engine accompanying our unbroken awkwardness

“ How old are you? “ He debuted,
“ 24 “ I replied.
“ I think you have all the time in the world ahead of you, its okay to not know what to do, just let the wind take you where you need to go “ He followed up, his calming demeanor made me feel at ease on this trip across the country.

We made it about a fifth of the way through Arizona. We hadn’t stopped for ages, so we pulled into this roadside gas station. The clerk was a big, balding man. The TV sprouted out on an arm from the top counter. Thick glass separated customer and cashier. The only opening was three or four holes for a voice and a slide hole for money exchange. The set up consisted of shelves with pre-packaged non-hydrated food. The only thing I could think of grabbing was water and a pack of peanuts. Synth food was the only food that could keep the economy inflated for it never to flatline again. Its brittle textures and flavors are kind of its pride and joy but mass food production was a must after population density rose over 200 percent in the previous years combined. More and more the fractures of my mind were filled with the scaffold scene. I was thinking of letting the cowboy in on it, but the thought ran away as quickly as I thought it up.

“ You’re always watching, never talking. “ He said brushing past me, looking at me then turning around. And there I stood facing the opening automatic doors when it all had finally made sense.

I walked out, the wide horizon endless black bordering pooling orange. Just at that moment, looking above. No more rain was pouring down, no longer did building cloud my vision and thirst for something else other than living day to day. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend this. I took a short stroll around the side of the building where the parking lot ended and the empty desert sand met. The horizon is in full view now. I couldn’t even begin to describe what the setting sun looked like for the first time. Moving my head down towards my arms I moved them around, washing the sunlight against my skin. Euphoric in feeling but my connection with what is above grew too. I was privy to knowing how it would feel. I recycled air in my nose out through the mouth, my lungs not being singed by the smog. I closed my eyes, and my ears began to hear nothing for the first time ever. I meditated on the never ending silence waiting for me to talk so I can begin again.