I have this image. Every day this person is walking with a
rucksack filled with rocks after the person he loved dies. My alter ego. Walking around with a rucksack.
Walking around the neighborhood. It
could be me or anyone else. Filled with rocks.
Pretty heavy. Somebody sees him,
“What’s going on? What’s in the sack?”
Another day, another friend asks him, “So,
how you doing buddy? Walking around with these rocks? What’s doing?”
He answers, “This kind of holds me in
place right now.” Makes him feel like there’s something still in his life. You
know, the weight and everything else.
He goes back home. Next time somebody sees
him he’s still got a rucksack. Now it’s filled with books. He’s working through
the levels. The rocks are gone the books
are there. “How you doing buddy?”
“OK, not bad at all.”
“Well, why you walking around with this
pack full of books on your back? Isn’t it heavy? What are you doing? You training to go for a
hike?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
He needs that weight in his life. He needs
that weight.
Goes home. They part their ways.
This is the man’s life right now, carrying
around weights.
~
I told my brother that if Marshall really
was his best friend he would
have
let him die first. He was my brother’s
best friend. I didn’t know how else to
bring him comfort.
~
Time, like a wheel going so fast in one
direction appears to turn slowly in another.
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