10,155. RUDIMENTS, pt. 129

RUDIMENTS, pt. 129

Making Cars

One day I awoke and I just knew

I was different. Completely so, and
not just from the train accident, but

internally. I could sense that my

attention was elsewhere, and

my language came from another

place entire. Until I really got

myself up to speed, it was pretty

difficult. Something was going

on with me, a river was running

through me, of other matter. I

recognized it, I knew what it was

saying, and I had accepted the

assignment. I just wasn't sure

how to proceed. It took many

years. Awaking from that coma

I'd been in, all those hospital days

and the rest, I darted in any number

of precocious directions  -  seminary

for age 11, and all the great material

that brought me (that was all written

before me, I just was a walk-on), then

the desultory return for a short spate of

hometown crap again, then New York

City, and then all the Pennsylvania and

upstate stuff. Everything was germane

to where I was headed. There's a piece

in Proverbs that, once I bumped into

it, spoke to me as if a loud voice

in a deep cathedral was speaking :

"The Lord possessed me in the

beginning of his ways, before he

made anything from the beginning.

I was set up from eternity, and of

old, before the earth was made...I

was with him forming all things; and

was delighted every day, playing before

him at all times, playing in the world.

And my delight was to be with the

children of men." (Proverbs 8:22-3, 30-1).

Once that hit me, all was good. I was

soaring, unfettered, and free. I could

sense it, that part within me that read

such processes  -  the course of the

challenge after that was to align the

rest of the world with my vision of it

and my terms, not theirs. In the same

way that William Blake said he had

to 'create his own system or be enslaved

by another man's,' I too had to actualize

my own own comportment and means

and behavior. It was to be difficult, but

I knew I was to do it.

-

I had to wonder 'where' it all came from.

I had to wonder the language. It was

all a challenge, because there was no

one to whom I could turn, as a peer,

and as an experienced second. 'Are you

experienced,' as Hendrix put it, 'well,

I am,' took on a whole other, shocking,

meaning. Any of this, my wondering

'where it all came from,' had to touch

on certain mysterious, eternal, questions.

What is the mystery which I was imbued

with, what exactly was flowing into me?

It was certainly 'from beyond,' and still

is. Undeniably so, and only a fool would

turn away from the self-recognition that

makes things what they are. It couldn't

be taken for granted; it had to be groomed.

It demanded attention  -  in fact it demanded

an alteration to my entire life, if I was

to follow it. One interesting problem

was that I was tying to solve the mystery,

yet each thing I did tended to increase

the mystery  -  and most certainly in

the eyes of others. That became, for

one thing, a real problem within the

grotestqueries of the business and job

world I'd stupidly fallen into. I was

unable to adapt, and my floundering

ways probably did just look stupid, for

years and for at least 80% of my time.

Just more failure, just another unhinged

grip on jagged and dangerous rock. A

lot of people in my situation die. I didn't.

I was beyond the usual definitions of speech,

and beyond normal discourse  -  which is

all pretty much what you get paid

for at a job.

-

The riddle remains concealed. All I have

left is that which I do. There's no more

spinning than the tales I spin, which 

are what they are and come out of a

resource of real memories. Simple as

all that. When I look back on my life,

I see that it's broken into segments; which

are always surprising to me  --  there are

so many and the cut-offs between them 

all are seemingly so neat. They weren't

actually neat at all  -  each was painful 

and often audacious. I often do weird

little mental things as I think back. For

instance, right now it's late 2017, with 

the year quickly running out. I think back

to the turn of the millennium, or whatever

all that is called now  -  perhaps there's a

phrase already in place covering it  -  and

I can remember precisely and exactly the

times and the places, where I was and 

what I was doing, NYC, NJ, and the rest, 

day by day, and I will be, eventually, 

getting to a lot of that  -  but that is not 

my point here. What strikes me the most 

about this, the form and the working of 

it, is that that's 17 years. 17 years is 

also the period of time it took me to grow

from birth to age 17, probably the most

momentous segment of my pale life. It's

a bit shocking, being thought of in that

way, because I'm not so sure I have 

another 17-year segment to do, sorry 

and unfortunately. Of course, I can

stagger that time in any of many,

more advantageous segments, 12, 10,

etc., so realign this, or make it not seem

so major. It's all liquid time at this point,

and I can make it flow as I choose. 

-

At Mustang Sally's that Millennial day,

(that's a not-worth-very-much bar in

Midtown), I entered to see what was 

up. There were five or ten helicopters, 

high, high up, stationary, in place above 

midtown. From anyplace in the streets

below, even with the mid-day traffic 

noise and usual clatter, you could hear 

the thump-thump of these stationary

helicopters high above, so everyone 

knew and was aware. It was rather 

strange, almost eerie. Inside the bar

some bigmouth had taken over the 

proceedings, blabbing aloud about 

how he knew so much about the day's

security efforts, the week's, in fact,

because of the Y2K threats and all

that stuff. He said those helicopters 

above were watching everything,

radio contact was everywhere, and 

that, with their high-powered telescopes 

and things on board, if you were reading

a book down on the street below, they

could read it with you and see what 

it was. The TV's inside were all on,

the new year and new century had 

already begun, out in the far Pacific 

or somewhere, and they were tracking 

it all as it came westward, crossing 

Europe and all that. It was certainly

novel, and quite exciting and, yes,

momentous. Seated not too far from 

me was as interesting couple, happy

with conversation and such. In the

midst of this odd scene, we began 

talking, and it turned out - she was

from Missouri somewhere, and he 

was from somewhere else, Maryland,

Pennsylvania, I can't recall. They'd

never met before, except on some

online dating thing where they'd been

conversing, back and forth, and they'd

decided, each of them, to come to NYC

at the Millennium turnover, and meet,

right here, by some sort of pre-arrangement,

each other, for the very first time.

It was pretty cool, and quite a

nice situation. Anyway, that's one

memory. And no, even though the

thoughts crossed my mind, I didn't

ask them about any planned sleeping

arrangements or alternative plans

if they found they really didn't click.

I just hoped for the best.