neuroanatomy and neurophysiology
i think. just a bunch of hypotheses, as always. it's how we make up stories and try to make sense of the world.
it's our nature. just like the universe. it doesn't explain anything, but it is an explanation of everything, if you can go looking for it. most of the time we aren't aware of this need. it just shows itself when we see what can't be explained. that's what being human is about. we see the world as we want it to be. we can't make it into what it isn't. we can't make the universe into what it isn't. we just try to figure out how it is instead. we are different from each other in a thousand ways, but that's what we've got. and this particular thing happens on a regular basis, that we have to look at what we don't see. it's hard, and hard to make it real, but the need is there. this is the only way to be. now I am going to wake up. that's what being human is about. jeff, i miss the little river. but that's nothing new. i miss the little river so much that i live half a mile away from it now. the river is long gone. it's hard to tell now.
the bank is washed out, just an empty hole where the river once was. but, i have new neighbors, who have been renting my house since the day the little river flooded. they are from the city, where the little river is still there, and they've lived here for six months. this used to be a nice little house with a river in the back. it's so strange that the river is gone, that i'm sitting in my dining room with a view of a huge empty field instead. the river used to be right there. maybe i'm so sad about that because i was raised on the river. my parents and my grandparents were born and raised right there on the river. i'd like to buy that little house that once belonged to the river, but i'm too old to move. i'm old. i have been here so long that i'm past it.
i remember when it was new, and my grandfather was young and strong and could take his children out into the river to play. he taught me to fish, how to swim, how to build a dam, how to throw a stick into the water and bring it back. he taught me how to catch a fish. his one weakness was fishing. if you couldn't catch anything, he'd take you to the mall, to buy clothes, to eat food. he'd force you to make him a hamburger at McDonald's, his special lunch of choice. it was only fair. he earned it. that's what family does. sometimes we make sacrifices for each other, but we still have to eat. i've been catching too many mice lately. they're trying to eat all the cat food. i set traps for them but i have to take out the traps a few times a day, and now they're no longer full. i also have to sweep up the dozens of little carcasses from underneath the dryer. it's a mess. if i could get some black spray paint, i'd spray "kill the mice" in large red letters on the door, but i'm too cheap for that.
i'm going to try to get some mice catchers, just to make sure the mice stay away from my house, and the cats stay away from the mice. they are a dangerous species. they carry diseases. i like that the little river is still around, because i miss swimming in it, and fishing for bass, and riding the big banana boat that used to float along the river's edge, looking for huge rocks and making wishes, and digging holes. i loved it when the river would flood, when the ice dams on the mountains would make the water race down the river. my grandpa and i would walk down there to play, me being so small that i had to walk on my hands. we had our little fishing pole and we would make it out of an old milk jug, we'd get some worms, and catch a bunch of little baby bass, and keep them until they got too big and we had to release them back into the river.
we'd throw them in the raft and go back to the house. my mother would make supper, and we'd eat outside. the house was small, and filled with memories. it was really a pretty little house. when my mother and grandmother and i were at my grandmother's house, which was also a lot of fun, my grandmother would let us watch "the voice of kokomo" with my mom. we would beg and beg, and then she would give in. the show was something i loved, but hated. the man in the blue suits, with the voice of jasper taylor, was absolutely horrible. there's a song about him, called "the voice of kokomo" which i like. i just don't like what he does on "the voice of kokomo". it's so crass. it's a bad example for little kids to see.
but it's a good example for me to write about, i suppose. today is a bad day. i don't know if i've ever been so sad about the same thing. i don't know if i've ever had so much time to think about something so much. i just know that i'm sad and that's all. i don't know what else to say. is it okay to be sad about that? i mean, what is there to be sad about? nothing. nothing at all. i'm not an adult, i'm not even middle aged. i'm just a little kid who feels deeply for no reason. not that i think anything will happen to change things, but it's still going to be awful.
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