December 15, 2008
By Marnie Cozzens, Chapel HIll, NC

I began my journey with cold hands, and ended with warm ones. The steps on the stairs were getting louder by the second, the millisecond. I began to wonder who came before me: The Chicken or the Egg? The seventh generation of holy gliders becoming much more than what we had said prior to this. Gently surfing in the air and arriving on our planet with open arms, they were dismembered in seconds, milliseconds. They came to me before they were murdered by the homicidal maniacs behind the table and said,
"For what you have become is nothing less than something to be shameful for, I condemn you to the supermarket strategies of life, forever to be consumed by financially decrepit middle class slaves; they will do what they were born to do: Consume.”

And I found myself in a hellish place, filled with canned food, and frozen meat, and happy people pretending to be happy. I was chased, by humans who weren’t human; servants of the leaders of the states of the countries of the continents of the world of the etc… Until I lost all preconceptions and realized the levity in what had occurred; I climbed the pyramid of commercial items, tomato soup and baked beans and miscellaneous vegetables. I reached the top and my hands shook, and my legs shook and my body shook and the pyramid shook as I stood on unstable ground. I dived nimbly off of the pile of consumerist s*** below me and as I did it crumbled in a wave of companies that are so called, “Dedicated” to providing food, and if that’s what they wish to call it, fine, but leave me out. So I see the ground rushing up towards me, I feel the wind in my hair, and I close my eyes bracing for impact; I feel nothing but the cool rush of water. However...
I open my eyes and find myself in another world, filled with shining bits of metal, which at closer look I realize, are coins: Pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, even Sacagawea gold dollars. I find the surface of the water. It seems like it takes hours of hard work and force to break the water tension, but when I do it’s worth it. I am in a fountain surrounded by millions and millions of miles of gardens. The fountain, however it may have seemed when I was under its watery spell, was small. A quaint creation of marble and granite, brought together in an impossible, asymmetric shape. A shape created out of twenty thousand penroses, thrown together in seamless unity yet guileless corruption.
With that I screamed, threw myself out of the water with a thrust of my legs, and was hurled onto the cold, hard marble of the gardens. I recall thinking to myself, how exactly all of this beautiful, otherworldly flora, could grow on something so cold, hard, and most of all, lifeless.
And I question my sanity now.
Are we alone?
Do we exist solely to be the pawns of others larger than us?
Are we here, living and being, to make a change on the face of this little planet, or just because we are part of a cycle?
Will I ever change the course of history?
I answer these questions for myself, (which on recall, is now seeming a bit selfish) by simply agreeing with the fact that for whatever reason we are here, we are here, and that is all that truly matters. I don’t question the nature of these things any longer, for I know the true answer.
We are here for love.

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