After six short seconds on the vine and a stately sendoff, we were cut and crisply expelled from our pods, breaking away from the old atmosphere.
Snugly wrapped like sarcophagi, our frozen bodies careened towards a pale blue dewdrop in the distance. Arms folded peacefully on our chest, we held totems for our teary new planet: a petrified heart of cedar in one hand and a Modelo in the other, like the crux and flail of a little fucking pharaoh (LFP).
Once cannonballed into the lagoon, our tombs soon dissolved into wombs and we were born into a whole new hog of a human fever dream. We settled into our barn dance bathing culture amid the coastlines, low deserts, and altos of Mexico and the American Southwest.
We were blissfully unequipped for the pleasures and pain that would unwind over many seasons here, meeting strangers and falling for their touch again and again.
While we were squinting, stumbling, and trying to sort the heat from the light, our cameras picked up all the photons from our finest memories…
Getting dance lessons from the wedding band
Getting hypnotized by hundreds of hunky fish just wiggling out there
Woofing on the arbol farm for a semester, where we learned how to use our dedos
Thumbing seeds into the ground
Discovering that the oils on our fingers sting our eyes and orifices after handling the chiles
Ogling the leather wealths of baby tortoises
Feeling the magnetism of salt water
Letting the flooded red hibiscus sunset light candles in our eyes
Binge-watching tornados
Hurting those we cared for the most, despite our best efforts and intentions
Recovering in the undulating bulbous fantasies of the whirlpool
Stealing the “kiss and ride” sign for a hostess gift
Learning how to share
Drying and distilling flowers in the cool alpine air of the Blossom Heath
Stretching for the Stars of the Victory Lap
Packing the van with our brothers and sisters
Returning like a child to the Playa Bebé
Under the gorgeous gravity of our new planet, it was too clear that our bodies were just wax. Weak and impermanent, yet we still hunted for sparks to light again and again. Always worth it to burn it, even if it blinded us in the process.
O How could any Earthling be prepared for a life of such romance and turbulence in The Neverland?
After decades spent staring down the barrels of beefy lasers and ignoring all warnings, our corneas still haven’t adjusted. But as we lay half blind and mostly misguided, the vision is never over. We see that the purpose of life is being alive.
