Allister took his seat on a train (bound for somewhere) and rested his head against the window. And, as the train (bound for somewhere) began to chug, Allister watched the scenery smear into a steady stream that ran past his face. Trees, houses, grass, people, plants, animals, rocks, clouds, sky, dirt, and thoughts smeared into each other.
When the window became cold, he rested his head in his hand and felt its weight. Eight and a half pounds.
The stream flowed from somewhere. And Allister was headed there.
He would do this from time to time. And, if you followed him, you would eventually see that. Whether strolling along the sidewalk or sprinting from dogs (he had short stints with both the postal office and cat burglary), Allister would make sure his thoughts weighed the same. And always, whether his head a was a bank filled of thoughts or whether his head felt as empty as his penny jar, it was eight and a half pounds.
There was something inspirational about that. That so much could have come from eight and a half pounds. After all, vaccines, buttons, engines, ink pens, and equations were all created with just eight and a half pounds.
But, there was some discouragement in this, as well. Because one could not get more room for more thought. Allister sometimes was afraid of all that was crammed in already. He feared, at times, that if he thought too much he would have to give up another thought or a memory to make room. And, when it came to thoughts and memories, Allister was most certainly a pack rat. Indeed, there was one occasion where Allister was positive that his thoughts had gained a half pound. He felt nine pounds in his hand and was positive that that meant his brain would explode. After all, what other outcome was possible?
But, a simple procedure (involving a scale and Allister laying his head on it) revealed that he was, in reality, still at eight and a half.
Sooner or later, though, he would always come back to the point where a ticket to somewhere was needed. Somewhere new. So, he would purchase a ticket, he would lean on a window, watch the world smear, marvel at the stream of color, weigh his thoughts in his hand, and try to make out where the world’s curve began.
When the window became cold, he rested his head in his hand and felt its weight. Eight and a half pounds.
The stream flowed from somewhere. And Allister was headed there.
He would do this from time to time. And, if you followed him, you would eventually see that. Whether strolling along the sidewalk or sprinting from dogs (he had short stints with both the postal office and cat burglary), Allister would make sure his thoughts weighed the same. And always, whether his head a was a bank filled of thoughts or whether his head felt as empty as his penny jar, it was eight and a half pounds.
There was something inspirational about that. That so much could have come from eight and a half pounds. After all, vaccines, buttons, engines, ink pens, and equations were all created with just eight and a half pounds.
But, there was some discouragement in this, as well. Because one could not get more room for more thought. Allister sometimes was afraid of all that was crammed in already. He feared, at times, that if he thought too much he would have to give up another thought or a memory to make room. And, when it came to thoughts and memories, Allister was most certainly a pack rat. Indeed, there was one occasion where Allister was positive that his thoughts had gained a half pound. He felt nine pounds in his hand and was positive that that meant his brain would explode. After all, what other outcome was possible?
But, a simple procedure (involving a scale and Allister laying his head on it) revealed that he was, in reality, still at eight and a half.
Sooner or later, though, he would always come back to the point where a ticket to somewhere was needed. Somewhere new. So, he would purchase a ticket, he would lean on a window, watch the world smear, marvel at the stream of color, weigh his thoughts in his hand, and try to make out where the world’s curve began.
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