It’s something I’ve done twice, pretty intensely. They occurred , like, within, like, 15 minutes, those two episodes.
The first was with a woman, J, yes, I’m quite sure she’s the one, we talked about it later. We eye gazed, deeply, shared infinite faces. Literally. I see her now, it’s funny how unsure I am of J, the name, not the face, but pretty sure, I gifted her an orchid the last time I saw her, even if it was kind of a mess.
And really, it’s not all that funny, the name thing, even the face, really, because infinite faces were there.
I’d met her once before, apparently, or at least we both remembered being at the same place and time but not each other there, at all, and then the time we eye gazed, we both remembered, and then the next time, later, the time in Asheville. We talked about the first time, not remembering each other, at all, there at the place time, but it was the place, and the time.
I hope the orchid thrives, and that she does, as well.
The second was a man, R, for sure, no doubt about it, because R and I became friends, albeit briefly, maybe six months, maybe it was a year, I don’t know, after that. We never felt unfriendly, or at least I didn’t, so I cannot say we were friends only briefly, because he left this life shortly after the last time I saw him. Just a few weeks.
Quite some time ago.
Of course, I didn’t know it, that he’d left this life. While I was quite sure he was going, he was not, or in denial, or I don’t know. It was why I could not be to him what he wanted me to be, but perhaps I was, perhaps I showed him something that he needed to see, that thing I’d seen.
When we were eye gazing.
He was quite the way wicked cool guy, over the top smart, PhD in Applied Theoretical Mathematics, Harvard, Shelly freaking Cooper’s real daddy, since Spock was imaginary. Maybe not a father of IT, but an uncle, for sure.
We spent a fair amount of time together, discussed subjects deep. I knew of his life, his family, his parents, his sibs, their estrangement, his at the time almost ex-wife. His life.
But more, too, the art, what it meant. Most of the other stuff, the stuff he sent, I ignored. I'd seen too many conspiracy theories and heard too many far out tales at that point to take any of it too seriously.
Still don't really, take the far out tales too seriously. At least not always.
For a while, I thought I was dying, too, a pretty deep subject to share indeed, our imminent passing, mortality. His decline was obvious, even if he did still hold some hopes of technological solutions to the problem of death. Mine was pretty apparent, too, malignant looking as hell. Or a homeopathic fix, to death, he had one for me, which I declined, not one for himself, there is no homeopathic cure for his disease, apparently.
Yes, he was a homeopath as well, or so he said. Perhaps he cured me; I don’t know. I'd turned down his offer for a cure, said I'd face death the way I faced everything else. Last time I saw him, I told him I was cured. He didn't take credit.
He told me once that he tripped with Bucky Fuller. He got into Permaculture in the oldest CSA in the USA, way before it was really a thing, back when it was still biodynamic farming.
He was at least an uncle, there, too, for sure.
In Amsterdam earlier this year when I went to see Dylan, there, with that front row center seat, I chatted with the folks next to me. Big world small, they were from Hollis, NH, knew the Cosmic Science Guy. In fact, the man told me, CSG had changed his life, made him the success he was, a guy who apparently has the freedom to follow Dylan around the world, sitting in front row seats.
Funny thing is, he was so paranoid in so many ways, I still won't use his name. What I will say is that he was one of the stony shoulders upon which the new world will be built, way wicked cool, for sure.