Nostalgia Of A Different Life

Nostalgia of a different life

Haven’t blogged for quite some time.  Lost my train of thought, and was off-track.  Told myself I would finish a content manuscript I started in 1993.  And so he writes but does not blog.  Now that is my definitive statement of what happened.  And why is he telling us this.  Seems as if he needs to let it out.  Hot air in the balloon, now rising and soon will reach its limits and pop or deflate or just go missing.  Not really the life as I envision it.  Live for the day you go missing.  But happens and there is a history of such things.  Don’t want that image in my mind, so replace it with something else.  Let’s call it blogging.  And today the theme and title spell it out for me.  Nostalgia for a different life.  And reverts to what he knows best.  Heart of Stone. 

 Probability of mass transit has reached out and found me in tangible space and physicality.  Now I don’t have to walk, nor take the car.  Signs of change are all around me and impress me by registering on my mind as a remembrance.  Viet Nam War and Wall,  remembrance in Washington D.C. where many return yearly to reflect or feel that which is missing.  Bury the Dead.  Move on.  That is what I did.  But many have the affliction, and will call it nostalgia for a different life.  Suspect it is individual what that means, but if I sit and listen and be very still, people will tell me how it is and why this means something to them.  Make America  Great Again.  Means something to them.  Now we have finished with that subject.  Go start another war or campaign or something.  Seems some have a nostalgia for a different life, and frankly I am not interested.  But that’s another blog for another day.  Here I sit.  Be silent. 

 

I didn’t die during the Viet Nam War.  That era has passed and the events remain with many, but not with me.  Treat it as a vague shadow upon my lung.  Can’t breath easy, but am still alive.  Pass it on as a nostalgia or feeling for a time I didn’t know.  Viet Nam  Death.  Instead,  many years later and he is a content provider.  Has no true interest to resonate to the music of my youth, but did bring the subject up.  Going back in an acceptable way to tell you about things that happened, before you were born.  Past.  Vague.  History.  Revisionist.  Wrap it up by saying,  “Nostalgia for a time you didn’t live through.  And if you did, well.  “If I did what?”  And is the start of a different conversation.  Is not a true recreation of the past, but rather, a combination of many aspects of then and now, integrated together.  Would make a good move, if Netflix would buy into that.  But for now, leave it as it is.  Me with all the negative emotions filtered out, just blogging. 

 

Down that road he goes.  Because it makes him happy.  Or perhaps, a different life and a different reason.   Go back.  Represent it in a way that is understandable.  Picks up the Bible or Talmud or Koran.  Read it and it sticks with him.  The power of words.  “In the beginning…..”   Genesis.  Over the years he has accumulated many boxes.  A different life in each.  Separation and what is done,  goes into a box.  Quality of Life comes with the ability to recall and perhaps assemble a nostalgia of a different life that is coherent, because it was bits and pieces of an experience that comes with his mind and body.   Heart of Stone.  Now a summary.  Perfect moments shared with a total stranger.  Appears as screen memory.  Is there and now goes the way of digital.  Has a memory code all its own.  Quite specific but beyond anything he can deal with.  So its science and he is not all that interested at this point in life.  Just knows.  If you read between the lines and believe in the power of words, then you might relate.  He blogs because it is all part of the incredible powers that comes with change and technological society and improvement.  Present life.  Past Experience.  Heart of Stone.  Expressed. 

Not here to tell you how I feel.  Will remain impersonal.  Stuff things in a box and put a date on it.  Pay close attention or not.  In the end it will be replaced by something in the present moment, more important to you.  Different Stimuli brought forth by thought, or by words in a blog.  Not sure why he did it.  Not sure what he did.  But have a sense that he might be like me,  we do things and then move on.  Hardly recalling the things we do or did, even five years ago.  Caught in a flow of present moment activity.  Caught up with feelings and mood embrace and a shudder that denies a fundamental truth.  What occurs when mind and body are gone, perhaps can be found in a Heart of Stone.  Part of the process.  Stone Age.  Cave and shelter from the storm.  Triggers more information that you need.  How human experience can be found in a ribbon of mineral deposits that has dna that points directly at me.  Overwhelming.  Ask but don’t expect a proper answer.  Did this really happen.  How did I get here.  Out in front and conscious.  Traces of past and future found in collected rock and spaces. 

Look around.  Tell me what you see.  Tell me what you have forgotten.  “Total Recall.”  She says,  “I have it.”   He says,  “  Was a movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger  in it.”   Natural History Museum.  Los Angles county.  Has a star in concrete.  Major accomplishment for a life well lived.  We all go through difficult moments, but just remember.  If you try,  “We can make America Great Again.”   And stoney blogger laughs.  Been there.  Done that.  Viet Nam and War.  Doesn’t think it was that great nor worth all the young people lives that were lost during that effort.  Sweeps in under the rug.  Puts it in a box and forgets about it,  the best he can.  Overcomes PSTD, agent orange and other remains of that day.  “How you feeling?”  She asks.  His reply.  “Not Great.” 

Where are you now?   And takes a few minutes to fact check and tell the truth.  “Not in America.”   Universal answer.  Continental drift.  Over time we become something we did not see or feel or know much about at the time of our human-body-based experience.  Ribbon of Stone and no reason to give all the details.  If this relates to you and part of your story,  then it becomes important.  Until that time, just let it go.  Great improvements over time, and we credit this to science and progress.  Takes us to a different life,  and we are proud we can do this for our children.  Say it as if you mean it.  Actor.  Terminator.  Judgement Day.  Sooner or later it all catches up to you.  Truth or Dare.  And he isn’t sure.  Where he is, today.  So he blogs.  Changes the subject.  Because he can.  Presents a screen version of his life.  Doing so, makes him happy.

Take a sample.  Do the process.  Plead for sanity and a common solution.  Hope for restoration of stone joints.  Regrade and waterproof the final product.  DNA and certified best as is possible.  Essential you disappear and come back later.  Maybe or maybe not, somebody recognizes you.  Talks about all the good things that happened when you were in life, and more importantly in their life.  “Total Recall.”  And she said.  “I have it.”  Let me tell you about Stoney Blogger.  Or wait, maybe it was his twin.  Always mixed them up.  One was with me, simple and plain.  The other, was always bigger than life. I saw him in print.  Part of a never-ending-story I liked to read.   Of course,  she has total recall, or so she says.  Best to omit personal things she wants to tell you.  Take a sample.  Do the process.  Save the best part, and blame the rest on what happens, when the world you are born into is constantly at war.  Make America Great Again.  He had heard it all before.  Rome.  And you had to be there to see it for yourself.  And believe.  “How Great We Are.”  

When presented as nostalgia of a different life.

And with that he goes back to the restoration of stone joints.  Is a long process.  Stone joint Tricks.   Converting everyday life to DNA nostalgia.  Goes back a long ways.  She says.  “I like it.  We go back a long ways.  Me and Stone.” 

And am left with a simple thought.  Process what is left when I am done with this body.  Where and when and how,  might that be.  DNA.  Belongs to me and others like me.  Nostalgia of a different life, I find almost impossible to relate with.  Chain of events and it has the opposite effect on me:  In denial.  Not me.  But with my  DNA.  Guess I will wait for science to catch up and give me a revisionist version of my earth-time experience.   Will put it in the box I label: Heart of Stone.