the Garden! i'm settling in. in what? just in. in my mind, in my body, in my skintight yet cozy clothes, in my space, in. just in. i feel beautiful, but that emptiness, no, not That emptiness, that emptiness, the one where i want to walk to my favourite place with Pa, holding his hand while i skate zigzag on the rough road in the Garden, the emptiness where i want to rush to a field and let bugs roam over me, ooh the dirt, ooh the wind, ooh, that absolute sensual elation when i wet my jeans in streamwater and run like an aircraft, dust blowing on my face, aachoo! storing random sticks and pebbles and stuff in my special denim jacket with, like, TWENTY pockets? and ooh, look at that little tree, ooh the beautiful strangers walking in shady sunshine, ooh the 2 creepy crocodile statues in the Dark forest (i named the parts of the Garden), ooh the puchi-poos of soil, squeeze them in my hands, ahahahahahaaaaaa. satisfaction. let's go to the bamboos now, beautiful. aww, doggies, come 'ere m'boyzz! those bamboo leaves look better than maple leaves when they fall, don't they? look! a caterpillar walking on its countless legs as thin as hair strands wiggle wiggle, and oh, oh flutterflies, i mean, Butterflies! i could cry tears of happiness! okay, now i'll sit for a while. the spiky grass is poking my bottom. i take no offence, it's all done in good humour, itchy-itchy, itchy-witchy. i was never afraid of bugs or lizards or bats or railway tracks (yes the garden had a toy train). i think we're taught to be afraid. i belong to earth. i belong. i have this space in space in spaces of space which will hold this body for more than, more than 50 years! i have earth for me, if nothing else, i have earth for me, if nothing else. you have earth for you, if nothing else. we have earth for us, if nothing else. _________ Ramona Singh started with emptiness, but i just cannot create somthing without humour, can i? (peek-a-boo!) ;p
