futoncam journals - Lindsey
The Anti Matter Man in the Moon - 4/30/2003 10:57 AM
If a man from an antimatter universe were to set foot on the Earth, the action would explode the entire known universe, thereby bringing time and space to an unfortunate end in a massive sonic boom. And the ground is hard beneath me and the grass agitates my naked calves and I can't back up the last two statements as reality, and the truth is that the antimatter man would only implode on himself, taking an equal amount of Earth matter with him, but not the spectrum of time.
My stomach growls and my ear itches, the passing of smooth legs and bare chests reminds me that after all, life still has the tendancy to be beautiful.
The scent of my hair exists and it shares this miracle with the cries of a child in India and the splash of a porpoise's fin and light from stars billions of years old and the taste of a macoronni and cheese like substance in another galaxy. The world is round, but I forget that until I watch the baseball across the quad and I remember that physics is perpetually drawing the ball back to the ground. A thousand years ago, I would have wondered, but had no answer, or worse, I would have never wondered at all because I wouldn't have been taught to think in the first place. Blissful and ignorant.
I'm blissful now. I'm eighteen and feel incredibly beautiful and am aware of my inability and therefore aware of my self and those who gave me a new dream for the life I have now. It doesn't have shape yet, it may just be an old one reinvented, but I don't know it yet; I just have a sense, a scent on my bare skin and a flavor on the tip of a cocco-burned tongue. My feet are naked and dirty and my skin is soft in the twillight.
The Antimatter Man does not come tonight, so the golden retriever on the red leash and the girl in the brown skirt keep walking home. And she's thinking about finals and summer and past boyfriends and lunch, and she hasn't considered where else there's a man made of everything and nothing the same as her on an anti-planet with an anti-sun. He climbed into a space pod and was fired in the direction of the Milky Way, in hopes that he'd eventually make it here. But he doesn't tonight. He was shot here, at the speed of sound through his anti-atmosphere into a cold dark space that has nothing in it but its own questionable existance. Maybe he missed and went on to Mercury. Or mybe he hit the moon and the implosion was enough to suspend him inside. Maybe its cold there and maybe he's lonely.
"The Earth never sets," he thinks to himself; and he stares into my eyes when the sun will allow him.