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B is for godhood

Here’s how it went down…

It was the night of my friend’s art exhibition. Opening night. Laughs, hugs, sales.
As the night wore on, my body began to tell me that in all honesty, the tiredness I was feeling for a while was real and I had to sit down. I did so, on shinning metal chairs under a spreading tree, where I was still able to have a pretty good view of the screen, which was playing the film I edited.

Yes, I am an editor as much as I am a writer. Insert thanks to a light called Ms. Mariel for showing me wondrous shortcut techniques that made my final cut life a whole lot funner. Yes funner.

Anyways.
A chair with the view of the screen.
Soon thereafter a boy came. He saw his friend and began to speak to him about things.
Me, living in a curious state, adopted the mentality of the natives and proceeded to maco in on the conversation. In my defense he was standing right over me somewhat, so there.

The more he spoke the more I realized he held brain cells. This may not seem fair to say. Nor should it have surprised me because my people had once interviewed him on various topics [seemingly] a world before. He spoke of philosophy and meditation; he spoke on his life [a young one – or rather an old one in young clothes]; he spoke about some decisions he had to make both hard and good and as I sat there hidden under my broad straw hat like a creature from my Caribbean’s world of mythology, it sort of dawned on me how bright he was. Quite, quite bright. Well done him. This world had made him bright. Trying to stay in touch with God had made him promising.

Except…
Except…
Except he never did say, “um, excuse me, I’m sorry. Am I blocking your view of the screen?”

He hadn’t attained godhood yet.
Have you?


pax
Tracy j Hutchings

© 27:08:10

more on my theory of godhood later... pax.

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