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29 October, 2004 / Erik

Sliding. Everyday it’s the same, but the faces …

Sliding.

Everyday it’s the same, but the faces change. The Crimean War. Managing the Zombies. Doing the autopsy on downed leaders. Channels on a digital TV converter, clear as living life. Walking with Jesus Christ. Battling at Mohammad’s side. Racing to the edge of the Red Sea in Ramose’s favored formation. Occasionally, I surface and remember what time I am supposed to be in. I try to warn people of future events. They never listen. This is just like being a passive observer. All my attempts to act are pushed aside by the naked force of history. Jesus just laughed as said, “let it come. I will be God when it is over.” Just as quickly I slide into China, into war. Titanic battles I’ve not seen in the Western World.

Occasionally, I remember what time I am supposed to be in. Sometimes I remember this isn’t fake. Sometimes I see my room; I see home. Usually, it’s a brief glimpse through flickers in celluloid and the occasional glimpse at a primitive black and white set with complex aerials. Everyday, I wake up somewhere else. San Francisco, 1962. Berlin, 1826. New York, 1919. A field in Palestine, 938. A golden city on a hill, 56. I’m part voyeur, part historian, lost in the field of time, smacking against the wall of history.

8/18/2002. Originally posted at the old college.

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