Patience.

Journey

 I’ve been taking walks for as long as I can remember. It started when I was around 7 or 8, and I would take walks to sneak out of my Grandparent’s dinners. This year, I took a walk during thanksgiving dinner. Nobody noticed. The great thing about living in a city is that there aren’t a lot of places you can’t walk. And when you designate that time to thinking, you get a lot of it done. 

 Whatever has been going on in my life, I’ve been able to walk away from it for about an hour and consider it. Failures, successes, deaths, breakups. It’s all relative. I can think about it and process it and make myself believe that I’m better because of it.

 It wasn’t until we said goodbye one last time that I realized how her nose wrinkled when she cried. I had seen it happen dozens of times over the years, but nothing helps you gain an appreciation for something like watching it disappear as you sit underneath a motel awning. 

 Our relationship wasn’t sexual. It was a true friendship. But neither of us could appreciate that. We outgrew each other like a kid outgrows their favorite shirt: quickly and unwillingly. We didn’t want to get rid of what we had built, but it was collapsing on itself and if we didn’t get out soon we would be crushed by its sheer weight. If only the base hadn’t been playing cards. 

 To be honest, I only left because she left. I yelled her name a few times, and I cried for a few hours when I knew it was over, but I accepted the fact that I had to leave. Even then, though, I tried to get her to come back to look at what we had built, but she wanted nothing to do with me.

  It wasn’t until we said goodbye one last time that I realized how her nose wrinkled when she cried. I had seen it happen dozens of times over the years, but nothing helps you gain an appreciation for something like watching it disappear as you sit underneath a motel awning. 

 Our relationship wasn’t sexual. It was a true friendship. But neither of us could appreciate that. We outgrew each other like a kid outgrows their favorite shirt: quickly and unwillingly. We didn’t want to get rid of what we had built, but it was collapsing on itself and if we didn’t get out soon we would be crushed by its sheer weight.
 To be honest, I only left because she left. I yelled her name a few times, and I cried for a few hours when I knew it was over. But I accepted the fact that I had to leave. Even then, though, I tried to get her to come back to look at what we had built. She wanted nothing to do with me.

 It took me a little while before I started going on my walks again. I found myself unable to do it, though, without some sort of inanimate companion. I was getting too distracted by my thoughts and  surroundings. I’ve always prided myself as being comfortable in my own skin, but for the first time I was itching to get out of it. My thought process is very forward. That’s why the walk is so beloved. If my body was moving onward, so was my mind. In my walks, I was usually able to maintain internal sidebars without letting them derail me, but now this was not so. I would try to think and my stomach would possess an empty feeling that could not be filled with food. So I just wouldn’t think. And eventually my brain would fill with thoughts that were supposed to be had, and I would feel the need to light a cigarette or listen to a song just so that I wouldn’t have to be by myself. 

It wasn’t just my internal watch that noticed a change, though. It was the physical world around me. The trees seemed to be thinning, and the sky was further away. The river didn’t meander the same way that it did before. I was not naive enough at the time to think that I was changing nature, though I was not sure of what was happening. It scared me, certainly. But I kept walking.

 I kept walking until I couldn’t recognize the buildings. This bothered me more than it probably should have. It’s obtuse to think that one could know all of the buildings in an international city. Still, this new territory did not jive with the theme of my walks. I stopped in a diner and got a very angry cup of coffee from an impatient waitress. It was like she knew that I didn’t belong there. Like I was disease. A vagrant. A stowaway.

 There was a point, though, where we made eye contact. I want to believe that she saw the fear and confusion in me, because her face softened for a second. I know she felt a connection, because she turned around almost immediately and returned with my change. I left a tip, but I don’t know why.

 The wind began to nip. I zipped up my jacket and kept walking until there weren’t any more buildings. It was just houses. This made me feel a little better. It’s not strange for houses not to be familiar. It doesn’t matter much though, because soon the houses were gone too.

And then nothing was around me anymore.

  I looked down at the road that had been supporting me and found that it was there no more. I looked back to see when it had left me, but could not see that far. There’s comfort to know that one does not always need a road to walk on, but it’s difficult to come to terms with the fact that the road eventually stops serving a purpose. 

I got home eventually. My legs were cold and I wanted to got to bed. The walk had fixed me, for I had not felt tired in days. Although one thing that perplexes me to this day is that there was no point in the walk that I remember turning around. I’m still not sure whether or not I turned around at the point in which nothing was around me, or if I just kept going forward. 

Typing II

I walked over to room 556 and opened the door. I looked back over at the repair man. He was just standing there, staring out into what I still assumed was Kansas. 

I entered the room and looked around. The room was nothing like 555. For one thing, it was about three times larger. It was also dusty, crooked and damp. It reminded me of an attic from an old World War II flick. 

There wasn’t much inside. A few half-finished paintings,some empty luggage, and that was it. I walked down towards the other side, and couldn’t find a stair case or any windows. I heard rain pouring on the roof, and figured I was still in Kansas.

I reached the back of the attic. There was a large wooden desk with a new, polished type writer on top of it. I walked behind it and sat down. I looked through the three drawers on the left side and found nothing. The right side only had one drawer.

Inside of it, I found another envelope. This one was yellow, and it didn’t have my name on it. I wasn’t sure at first if I wanted to open it, but it appeared to be my only way out of this place. I slowly opened the three fold and read in horror the five words hastily typed. 

kIlL the rEpAIR MaN befORE iTs TOO LATE.

I dropped the letter. The blood was frozen in my veins. I didn’t know what to do. I looked up at the door, and tried to make my decision. I could answer any of the questions my brain was throwing at me.

 Was this another test? I had no idea who this guy was. How could I kill somebody I didn’t even know? I guess that would make it easier, wouldn’t it? Could I even kill this person? He was so much bigger than I was, and he had all of those tools. He would destroy me. 

Still, this stranger seems to be the only person I can trust. If they say I have to kill him to escape, that might be the only way I can see daylight again. Maybe I missed something. I looked down at my desk to see if I had.

In life, a lot of things come and go that people are sure they want and need. Cars, sex, a new promotion, a big house. They get upset to the point of throwing tantrums after they don’t get what they want. I used to be one of those people. I used to cry until I got what I wanted, and I thought I would be satisfied with material items for the rest of my life.

 After sitting down at that desk, and seeing and reading that note, thinking about what it said, all I wanted to do was read it again. I would have accepted not reading it, so long as I could see it and feel it, just to know that at one point it had been there. For when I looked down and saw that the note had disappeared, I lost any remaining trust in my sanity. Once that trust is lost, it can’t be brought back.

I tore that attic apart looking for that note. Every crevice, every trunk, box and drawer. It took hours. I must have broken down at least three times.  I didn’t know what to do anymore. I was in hell.

I sat back down at the desk and opened the top drawer on the left side. Inside was another envelope, pristine white. The color made me feel safe. I wasn’t even concerned that the other nine times I had opened it the drawer had been completely empty. I was just relieved to have some instruction. 

I carefully opened the envelope, making sure not to damage the flap or the letter inside. This was my only contact with the outside world. It was the one thing that I could rely on to get me out of this attic. I needed to make sure I treated it as a relic.

Ray-

 We’re sure you have questions, and at the right time there will be answers for them. You must understand though, the answers you’re looking for are not in the attic. If you look for them, you will be wasting your time and ours. We highly suggest that you do not attempt to find anything, for the sake of your own sanity.

In regards to your job, there has been a slight delay. By the time you are done reading this letter, however, you will be ready to start. A man is about to bring you in a new letter, and you will transcribe the words in that letter on your type writer. When you are finished, put it in the right drawer and exit.

I looked up as the door opened. In walked a man wearing what appeared to be the most meticulous suit on the market. His blank face looked like it had been in the room for hours, and his body was just getting with the program. He was very slim, and took long, slow strides towards me. I was startled. I stood up and pointed at him.

“Hey man, I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you better tell me what the hell is going on or I’m out of here.”

A smile started to crawl along the left side of his face, but stopped once it reached daylight. 

“Out of here. Out of here? Out? Here? If you knew where you were, neither of those words would have been used in that sentence.”

I paid attention to his wit about as much as I understood it.

“I mean it man,” I replied. “If you don’t start speaking quick, I’m busting out of here.”

The man sat down in a seat in front of the desk. If I was a betting man, I would put all of my life savings that the chair hadn’t been there until he wanted it to be. 

“Let me ask you a few questions first, Mr. Conan.” He said, glaring at the type writer as he spoke.

He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth unlit. 

“Please, have a seat. I am not a threat to your well being.”

“Yeah, that’s what they’ve all said.” I scoffed.

“And are you injured?”

I thought for a moment, and then sat down.

“Mr. Conan, does your blood smell of vinegar?” He asked.

“I, um.....what?” I stammered.

“Your blood, does it smell like vinegar to you?” He asked, this time more impatiently.

I couldn’t stop staring at the cigarette. The butt was getting damp, as the man’s mouth was clearly soaked with saliva. I didn’t know how, this had to be the driest room I had ever been in. Why wouldn’t he light it?

“I suppose you wouldn’t know the difference if it was, anyways.” He said.

“Why?”

“Well, Ray, you seem to me to be the type of person who has been spoon fed mayonnaise his whole life, and is experiencing his first days without it. There is no more sodium to slow your body, or cholesterol to clog your arteries. You’re noticing buildings, interacting with people. You’re becoming human again. You’re becoming real. But at the same time, there seems to be a bit of a withdrawal process. Some paranoia as well as an inability to follow directions are persisting. You also have a sore throat.”

Break down

I want to try something new.

 Nobody does that anymore. They say that they’ll try something new, but the don’t do it. They’ll try half of a new thing and get bored, and say that it isn’t for them. I really want to do something that I’ve never done before, and if you’d join me I would really appreciate it. Here’s the thing though, you can’t do it half-assed. You’ve really gotta do it. Don’t skip steps, don’t quit in the middle. If you start this, you have to finish it. Deal? Okay, good.

 Close your eyes for 10 seconds and relax. Done? Okay. Now do it again. Except this time, I want you to picture all of your small belongings. Hand-held items like your keys, wallet and cell phone. You ipod, your TV remotes and keyboards. Tiny things that are relatively easy to replace. Have them all? Now get rid of them. They no longer exist. How do you feel without these items? Any different? Has your world changed for the better, or for the worse? Just think about it for a second, and we’ll move on.

 Okay, we’re gonna take a step forward now. I want you to close your eyes again,and this time picture all of your big-ticket items. Think about your television, and about your computer. Picture all of the furniture in your house, including all of your kitchen appliances. I want you to also imagine all of the things that you associate with these items. Clothes, food, valuables, etc.  When you open your eyes, they will be gone from your life. 

 So now you’re just about completely out of physical possessions. What I want you to do now is imagine any property that you own. Be it your apartment, or your house, or a storage space. Any shelter or any large area that belonged to you has now evaporated into thin air. Along with it goes any physical possessions that you owned before this exercise.

 Now how do you feel? Is there any stress building up? It’s cold outside, and you have nothing to your name. You see everyone in their homes with their possessions, and you feel something. Is it jealousy? Anger? Pity? Do you feel like you could relatively go on without the things that they have? Remember, you can always go back and take 10 seconds to relax. Just make sure that you come back to where you left off.

 Now think about all of the world’s infrastructure. Buildings, roads, sidewalks, telephone line, the internet, police and fire stations, parking lots, all of it. It’s all gone. The world is completely empty of man-made creations. It’s just humans now. 

Everybody is now on an even playing field. Nobody has any resources or powers or tools. We’re all just savages on a big blue marble. Do you feel any better or worse about losing your possessions? Ask yourself why that is.

 Before we go on to living people, let’s think about historical figures that fill the mind. Writers, artists, musicians, Kings, Queens and religious figures. I want you to pretend like they never existed. If this is too difficult, just think back to a time before you knew who they all were. 

 Now we move on to something a little bit more important: living people. Close your eyes. Think about all of the people in the world that you have never met and have no association with. These range from complete strangers on the bus to the entire population of a country that you’ve never visited. Now they’re all gone. Unless you’re very popular, this is the majority of the world gone in the blink of an eye. What did it feel like to rid yourself of them?

 After that, think about all of the famous people in the world. Celebrities, talking heads, politicians, world leaders, business men and women. They are all gone. Forever. Nobody is left to influence how you see other parts of the world. It is a society of people who you can relate to.

 Now it’s time to start dividing up the people that you know. Let’s start with those whom you only know by coincidence. Neighbors, your usual waiter and waitress, coworkers and bosses, fellow students and teachers. People whose association to you is simply based on being at the same place at the same time. They’re now gone. 

 We’ve reached the bloodline. Think about all of your extended family. Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents, Cousins, Nieces and Nephews. While you’re at it, picture all of your friends and pets. This time, I really want you to think about them. Picture their faces, and what they meant to you. Now eliminate them from this existence. Was this harder to do to any of the other choices? Why is that? Does it make you view the other choices any differently?

 I realize that some of you may not have a Mom and Dad, but I like to believe that everyone has a parental figures in their life. Take your time to say goodbye to them. Think about all of the things that they’ve done for you. All of the influence that they’ve had on your life. Now close your eyes and wish them away.

 Did that hurt? Why? This is just an exercise. What is the intrinsic value of wishing away your family, and did it hurt more than getting rid of all of your possessions? If you could live without your possessions to keep your family, would you do it? Why? What would be the point? I’m not saying that there isn’t a point, I just want you to think about what it would be.

 So, you’re alone in the world. It’s just you on a pale blue dot. The world and all of its beauty is yours. The oceans, the mountains. Desserts and forests. Lakes and rivers. What would you do with it all if it was yours and yours alone. With overpowering beauty like this, would you desire to share it with anyone else? How do you know if you have never experienced this yet? Enjoy it for a moment, and then let it go. You’re hurdling through space all alone.

 This next part might be hard to conceptualize. I want you to imagine your physical body. All of your muscles and your organs, your bone structure, your physical features and characteristics. They are gone now. What do you have left that’s still redemptive? Your thoughts, opinions and ideas? What good do they do you? What is the point of having them without a physical body? What was the point of a physical body if you have nothing to stand on?

 Throughout life, you have accumulated an infinitum of opinions, beliefs,emotions and knowledge. Many people say it’s the crux of an existence to know as much as you can. Those people don’t exist anymore. Where did you get all of this knowledge? From your possessions? From people? From your body? From the world? Why do you feel the need to keep the things that you know inside of your body? What made you decide to make that a part of your existence? Take them away, and what kind of weight is lifted from you? 

 What can you say about your existence still? Do you still feel like you? If so, what do you have left? What is it that gives your existence the most purpose? If not, at what point did you stop? Why do you hold so much weight in these things? 

Just think about it.