Liars

Philosophically.

Maybe we learned this in summer camp. Maybe we learned this in speaking with one another. At times they were one and the same. We needed a foundation.

When Micky first pointed out the class of all things hodge-podge we broke them down. We moved them around. We reinhabited the living, the dead, the misbegotten, the woebegone, the existent with our own mortal (mis)conceptions. Every lie we told was in some way based on a lie that have become true. Most couldn't be found anywhere except in the interstices of human communication.

We were probably despicable. To some. There were those who adored us. We never let them down. If we did we never knew about it. The ones we let down; they were gone. They had probably never existed. What was between us had been, but then we realized it wasn't. So we passed along our own forms; our own shadows; our own bright lights between black worms - fumbling in what appeared to be a mist, what appeared to be clarity, what appeared and was always spoken and left unsaid.

That is where the confusion began. We dug deep enough to find meaning in everything. We scoured the earth. Beginning around us we found specks and larger. We examined and disturbed and probed and played. None of them - the thoughts - led us anywhere. We were where we had begun. That's the sad thing about time. So much of it has come before that no matter the length of time we live we die before we even begin. I'd laugh at this if I could, but I don't think I know what laughter is anymore. I once did. I mapped it to green grass and monuments to concepts of passion and frenzied motives.