A life lived to identify an existence. Deep, perhaps … like the snow. Probably just a bunch of silly nonsense dribbled out of a morning coffee induced brain dump. Still, I am stuck on it.
“Whatever it is, it’s got to be funky”, a friend of ours will sometimes say. An elixir is what I pour into life to make it funky. Pharmacology? Perhaps a, “sweetened, aromatic solution of alcohol and water containing, or used as a vehicle for, medicinal substances”, according to the dictionary types. I surely identify with what this elixir induces.
Is that the reason a poison-induced window of life can be called the elixir of life? Poison yes, but removing stress can also be an alchemic preparation believed by some to be capable of prolonging life. Long live the funk!
The gold diggers used an elixir to alchemically, if that is a word, prepare base metals turning them into gold. Never worked. For me, never was into gold.
My mind wanders, then wonders. Am I off topic yet? What was I thinking about? An eagle screeches overhead. Shit, it is cold outside. My fat bike leaned against a guardrail.
Wait a silly second. I am not in the park. Instead today I am in Bozeman biking the city trails. But at this second my partner who is in the “Da Park” spots a bald eagle. Funky, right? A quintessence or absolute embodiment of anything is really something that doesn’t make any sense actually making sense.
Am I biking under the influence? Absolutely not. Just a little snow blind. Everything is so white right now. All that devil dust covering anything and everything. All I see is white. So my thoughts wander as I squint out the reality. A panacea; cure-all; the sovereign remedy to not being able to see.
Perhaps I should let my eyes widen. And take in the beauty of it all. The funkiness making it all so beautiful. I am right where I need to be. Just a ramble, that’s all. Just a bike ride. Maybe we will have some wine tonight.