a fast moving thing,...

when i was fourteen, still exploring my new found world, still wondering about this new place i was in, i was once walking what looked to me like a desolate road, lots of sand on both sides, and lots of wreckage everywhere, not a soul to be seen, i can’t recall what i was thinking about, but i do remember what i felt, i was down, i was upset, i was looking at my feet as i walked, not really paying much attention to anything around me, and for an unknown reason, i kicked something i know i didn’t see, or even realize what i was kicking, it entered my vision as a fast moving ... thing, that just sped up ahead, the way it moved caught my eye, it was moving in a straight line, didn’t waver, didn’t bounce, and just cut through all the sand a debris without being stopped, stopping, i followed it with my eyes till it lost it’s momentum and fell to one side,

i moved towards it, i still couldn’t tell exactly what it was, it did seem like some kind of disk, or something,...

hastily i walked/ran to it, and i found it in the dust, a solid earth brown globe, it was solid stone, it’s surface was near perfect, almost flawless, it’s oddly symmetrical globular surface was poked, but not in a way that made it any less perfect, it was a perfect ellipsoid, with a perfect circular diameter, i marvelled at it for i time i cannot remember, i thought about how odd this stone was, as i have found it in a street, obviously not man made, i kept thinking about how many miles did that stone roll through to gain that shape, a shape that to my teen eyes looked very much like what the earth looked like, i was so mesmerized with it, and how it’s weight fit perfectly in my hand, i cleaned it up and put it my school bag, and headed home,...

when i was twenty three, i remember finding a sort of holder for it, it seemed to crown it, i had just applied to Architecture school, and was tasked with a what it seemed back then to us, a difficult project, i remember being up all night for more than 3 days thinking about that project, until one moment i noticed that i had placed that stone on an amber glass ashtray, and that the light was playing inside the amber glass in a way that made the stone catch my imagination again, to my eyes it seemed like an awesome dome with a huge party filled with lights underneath it, and Bam! i had an idea, and not only an idea for the project, but as i held that stone in my hand, i felt it’s familiar weight and symmetry whispering to me again, i felt like i had had one of the secrets of this world in my hand, and all i had to do was look for it, touch it, feel it, and let it out,...

in the following years, i recall thinking a lot about that stone, and how i never got to the point of designing that first building i saw in it, i came close at times, but never the original idea, always when i had in my hand, i would float off to another thought, it’s perfect weight and symmetry somehow stimulated me and calmed my usually contradictory thoughts, ...

it became my dream-stone,

every time i can remember my self finding a good solution to some problem, or a way to understand some bizarre thing i had to face, it was there, in my hand, or just in my eye sight,

it made for a great handy hammer as well, and a wonderful if a bit insane decoration to my room,

when i was thirty, i remember sharing it’s secrets with a friend, i remember him being startled as it worked it’s magic on him, and what was a discussion about his fucked up love life, transmuted into a discussion about how insanely amazing this stone was, and how it’s proportions and weight were so perfect it was almost unbelievable that it was not man made, ... it did the trick.

during all these years that i have had it, i almost never allowed anyone to touch it, i was more protective of it than anything else i owned, only this friend of mine, maybe an ex. or two, but generally i never allowed anyone to much around with it, ...

until two or three months ago,

i had met someone,

the day i showed it to her, was a very special day for us, the minute i put it in her hand, i knew it fit her, as perfectly as it fit me, and for the first time ever since i had found my dream-stone, i wanted her to have it,...

she wouldn’t take it, i tried and tried till she took it, and i told her that from this day, this stone is hers, i told her what it was, and how dear this piece of earth is to me, ...

for a month that stone was not in my room, the first month ever,

and i was happy to know that she had it, i hoped it worked it’s magic for her, the way it did for me, i was ok with letting her have my dreams, to fit them in her hand, and hopefully find the weight reassuring, and steadying,...

the months passed by,

one night, she called me after a terrible fight, and wanted to pass by to drop something by,

i knew what she was bringing back, i told her to not bring it back, to keep it, to throw it back into a desolate street, i couldn’t take that back, i couldn’t take back a dream that was once mine then freely given, ...

after a long long night, she won the argument,

i was freaked that she had put it in a box, a little black box with a star in a circle in top of it, i freaked that she had locked it up, inside a box, when i have never put in anywhere but “out there for all to see”, her answer to that was that she kept her dear things in a box, while i kept my dear things in the open, ... she couldn’t understand how upset i was about stuffing a dream a thought a feeling into a box, we were too different,

i took my dream-stone and kept it in her magic-black-box, as a symbol of keeping things the way she wanted them, for now, ... or so i told her,

things between us went downhill from that night,

in a couple of weeks, i found my self taking my dream-stone out of her black-box, washing it clean from her perfume, closing the box, and putting it in a partition next to the one with my stone in, ... i couldn't bring my self to throw away her box, nor did i want her perfume all over my stone,

now, after a while, after i had almost forgotten about that box, and had kept my self busy as not to think about her,

i find my self not opening her empty box, i don’t want her scent to come out, and wear away, or that i would get used to smelling it again, but mostly i fear it evaporating the moment i open that box, the same way i have avoided looking inside me at what has happened between us, as if I'm afraid i would wear out that memory, i do not want to touch that memory, for fear that it would become less,

her magic-black-box is still right next to my stone, which now smells again like coffee, tobacco and paint,

i still smell her sent when i walk past the black box,

i ignore it,

and move on,

or so i say.

sketch drawn and added on 04.11.2010
didn't feel like showing you my real dream stone ;)