by Pat A Physics
Before you start making your noise and walking your way, know
that the spirits of your relatives are tracking your every move.
You knew they were there long ago. It was this distant hum or a
belch coming from a grave stone. Over time, you lost the ability
to notice the sound. It blended into the pachinko machine din
of your life. You took those old ears for granted. They told you
if the silver ware was clean enough for guests, if the color you
were wearing would denote a certain posture among friends, if
you could be nominated, if you could be by yourself. Rewinding
through the noise, you notice pivotal moments that shaped you
over time. The time when you made a critical desicion based on
their impression is now an illegible blur. You took all the credit
and that is fine. No one has to know about them except for you.
You can fly and say and rip and share all that you want and none
of them can do anything but passively observe you. They watch
the result of perpetual burning while the energy spins off of you
in many directions. Remember this for a moment in the quiet of
their unmoving gaze as you clean the slate with your squeegee.