It got too loud in the city. It was deafening. I couldn’t breathe. Like my brain was too scrambled to remember that I needed to breathe. It used to be thrilling. I was plugged in, controlling an ocean of hard memory. Feeling validated every time it moved in the same current as my thoughts.
I wonder if that’s how it felt for Jameson too. His hands shake a little more each month, but he’s still at full power. Maybe more. The way he cuts down and strips the pines for his sculptures, he’s a lumber mill all his own. I wonder how much he can transcend his body. On the news, he was always scowling while throwing around this or that, yanking armored-car doors of their hinges. But I haven’t seen him wrinkle that forehead once since we got here.
Maybe that’s how you do it. Maybe to transcend the body you just need the simplest but hardest thing to attain: happiness. I hope I can find that out here. Away from the wires.