Friday, January 29, 2010
The Truth in the Chaos
When I was a kid, I saw things. Many things. Strange things. I remember all of them. But the thing is, the older I get, the less inclined I am to believe that they ever happened at all. It makes me sad though. I remember a time when seeing was believing. But I love Science. I search for answers by adhering to the laws Science says are the ultimate way to the answers. And yeah, Science is like the National Enquirer...often times it's fly by the seat of your pants theories that stick around until someones publicist calls and says the story is all shit. One day eggs are bad for you. The next, they can save your heart. One day there is no possibility of life in the universe, other than our meager existence... and then, the next, there are earthlike planets in other galaxies, just waiting to be discovered.
There was a time when I saw things and I believed them to be true. My downfall was not recording them. Instead I wrote little short stories or made little cartoons about my experiences. I turned them into imaginary things because I didn't want to think about what the REAL world was like should those things happen to be real.
For instance, there was that time I saw the floating heads. Yes. Heads. Heads that floated. Actually, they were spinning around, clockwise too. Yeah, if I was reading this, I'd think I was crazy too. But it happened. I remember there were 9...maybe 12 heads all together. But only two of them spoke to me. One was a man who sported a Ceasar-like haircut. You know the one. George Clooney and Elton John made it popular. Anyhow, there he was, coming out of the background where the other heads floated. The others were amorphous and had no faces, but I knew they could hear and were intelligent. The other head was a woman. She was Hera-like. I say Hera because I got the strong impression she was a very powerful deity. She sported the popular look of braids and curls you see on the heads of Roman Goddess-like statuettes.
They wanted to me to do something for them, and in turn they promised to grant me all sorts of powers. I would be like a Superhuman, capable of flying and running at the speed of light. All the things I dreamed about as a young girl immersed in comic books and hoping to one day be like Wonder Woman. They knew just how to get me. The thing is, whatever they wanted me to do, I didn't like it. I must have said NO. They disappeared and I woke up on the living room floor. I never could remember what they wanted me to do.
But I remembered them.
I spent a greater part of my teens trying to find stories about floating heads. I think I found two. None of them were like mine. But they were close enough. At the time I was certain I was visited by the very beings who inspired our ancestors to erect monuments in the name of unknown gods of pantheons in the clouds. After all, a Zeus and a Hera were in my living room.
But now, at this moment, as I recall the story in my head, I wonder just what the hell happened that day. And why every day after that incident, I fell asleep on the living room floor, in the same spot. Somehow I thought they would return. Maybe I regretted saying NO. I was only 8-9 years old. Then again, I can't even remember exactly how old I was when it happened.
Right now, at this very moment, I just wish I had had the foresight to write it down.