Day one at the Maharishi University of Management. A socially awkward (read: retarded) freshman at an incredibly tight-knit private school in rural Fairfield, Iowa hoping to get a degree in sustainable living as quick as possible and get the hell back home. Until seven a.m. this morning, I was a twenty-year old barista living in Kansas City, working in Johnson County, and making a point of hanging out with friends and fucking with strangers. Six hours before that I was forced to say good-bye to the only girl I've kinda-sorta liked (bullshit, I love her,) in a long time while we re-assured each other that it's not even a big deal.
Kansas City, Missouri to Fairfield, Iowa: you take 35-North to 34-East and just keep driving until you get there. Right around four hours, depending on traffic. Sure as shit, not even a big deal. Two steps, a few hours. Position yourself within two feet of her, take one sure-footed step forward, and push your lips against hers. One to two seconds...depending on traffic. That's not a big deal.
Indeed, not a big deal. It's everything else that amounts a big, depressing bum deal that has officially been dealt and now I'll have to deal with. I'll apologize in advance; I've been reading Tom Robbins and have a bad habit of thinking/writing like whoever I'm reading: Newton dropped the bomb of gravity as god, the ultimate force affecting everything we know, but it's not just her gravity drawing me in. And no, Einstein, it's not just light-beams reflecting off her into my optic nerve that attracts me to her, although your unified field mumbojumbo does open some intriguing ideas. Not just her sound-waves in my eardrums nor tiny pieces of her huffed into the olfactory organs. I can't say for sure it isn't just harmonized electromagnetic brainwaves sending euphoria straight to the brain, but I can say that even if that is the case, at this distant to waves have grown too few and far between over distance to still be effective.
It's probably none of the above, something else entirely beyond the realm of science, or that something else and all of the above. But I believe her body could keep me in orbit without gravity, I would still search for her in infinite dark, imagine her smell with no nose, listen to her voice without ears and I find myself constantly trying to tune in to her waves.
Form and light can be captured with picture, sounds can be broadcast with cellphones. But scratch and sniff is more imagination than marvel, and at this moment, pictures and cellphones are about as legit as scratch and sniff to me. To buy: one NASA-sized space satellite to tune into her brain, suck up her waves, and beam them down on me. It's no big deal, but what ever kind of tiny deal it may be, it absolutely sucks.
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