Sky City

Saturday, October 09, 2010

There are no limits to the heights here. When the mules are done the climb to the city, there is still the enormous sky over the terraces, and the looming mountain cliffs, reeling with birds.

If you are afraid of heights, here, your heart will race. It's like living above the earth on a raised mountain platform. Dizzying.

The inhabitants are small here, as if they need their bodies squat and close to the ground. To prevent them from seeing too much of the distance back down.

It rains the day after Jason arrives, leaving him straining with impatience to continue his journey. I'm already wondering where else he intends this 'journey' of his to take him. It seems to me that we're already at the ends of the earth up here. I'm half expecting him to whip out a feathered bird cape, and jump from the last mountain peak. Shouting triumphantly that he can fly as he glides down into the desert. It's not how I would like to see him die. In fact I don't intend to be around anymore when he dies. Being his parent, should have at least that much of a perk! Seeing your offspring die is not natural, and isn't part of the reproductive time-line.

Here we are again, discussing that mixed up, illogical and mostly emotional trip that is reproduction, for every species I imagine, but one generated in a test tube. I've never dealt well with body's demands for replication either, but everyone, every citizen on the planet has had one made, sort of as a first line of insurance. I don't even want to know where mine is stored. I'm that much against this preposterous state "obligation". Besides, if I voice my "free will" and exercise my citizen's right to opt out of this clone operation, it will just brand me as a social dissident. And that's not what we really want. To become shit disturbers, or rock the boaters.

The best thing, I have decided is to just give the state cooperation for those things that are inescapable. And give self those things which can be legitimately chosen for oneself.

Then, we have those inescapable lines of conflict that arise precisely where socially we draw the line between state and personal jurisdiction rights.
And that's why I find myself here, on this journey with my son Jason. High up in the mountains of this planet, testing physical endurance limitations, and striving to achieve something different, and perhaps in some context, even meaningful.

Will it miraculously 'make a difference'? I haven't an inkling of an idea how. But in the back of my mind, I still entertain the small hope that we will find something of true worth here. It's become a treasure hunt. Would I be able to recognize something of 'true worth' if it fell on me?

Good question!

Writing by Regina Stemberger

Photo "Machu Picchu from the Guard House" by Alex E. Proimos

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