Time, Flies And Other Alien Encounters

Time.

I hope to believe someday, that I have a healthy disdain for modern fatalism, at least a good snobbery and chide for it. The absurdity, the obscenity and the humor, of any alternative to death,, on the other hand, should make for some excellent fodder concerning the world as many currently know it. A few words on humor, then abnormalities can resume and concur as they will.
Transportation, in the literary sense, is not something that everybody has necessarily available to them, it would be nice if everybody was AT LEAST that aware of the great myriad of possibilities in life but, as a species we humans are just barely peeking out over the rails on our crib, were still infants in a universe so old vast deep and wide, that even curiosity about it is sometimes dangerous. Because its also cold out there! And I think this is one major extremely important point that people either miss entirely or fail to actually think about alternatives to. What I'm saying is the world COULD be a much warmer place, and indeed it will be, but, will we as a species actualize any OTHER KINDS OF WARMTH? aside from GLOBAL warming? Maybe? Before we die out? Will there ever be an intimacy in language,, that is acceptable to everybody? Im beginning to have serious doubts about human ability to accept itself, as a whole entity, if the various parts, (cultures) of humanity can't manage to learn to communicate in any other language than violence, then we may have already caught the old proverbial backswing, and our "winds of change" may have just provided enough topspin, to send us all into that old proverbial black hole or, "tin cup" as it were, so it goes,... and I'm not here to tell you how to think either, I'm just a kid tugging coattails here saying, "can you think for a minute?" I mean God forbid you think any longer than a minute but, just climb out of your bottle, or your wallet, or your stock portfolio for a minute and think.
Billy Pilgrim, introduced me to this idea, and has reintroduced it in many ways for me, even though he was at least partially fictional in nature, he still reminds me of some ultimate distraction that every human still alive is aware of, that it doesn't know, will never truly know, that can choose (or hope to choose) whether that will be the goal or not. I say this because of the place I was introduced to him, outside of a certain slaughterhouse, after the certain bombing, of a certain city, not to be too fatalistic of it or any other but, as I looked around the burnt down city with billy, I began to agree with him, this um, Jesus, I couldn't come up with any words... I had to retreat to somewhere, I had to run away from Billy too for awhile, but, when I picked up where I'd left off, the pages began moving a bit faster, several were a complete blur, then I recognized, that I too, had become unstuck in time! In SOME way, it didn't matter that I disappeared randomly from one point in time to the next, quite the contrary, but thats another story, so it goes.
The thing that did matter, was what I was in search of, it seemed to drive the random temporal displacement even more than my previous association with an even more solid reality, the one I was there escaping.
The aliens started landing for me, i wasn't actually transported there, although I was given some time to one (or more) of my more familiar aliens, (here on earth that is) but that too, is another story, SO, it goes like this....and i was on a train for awhile too but, I was honestly trying not to bludgeon any other person trying his her their best to not be trampled under everyone else in the freight car, the irony began for me, in the space above us all, there was a strange commonness I sensed among us and our random knowing glances, to and from each other, in that forty foot long fifteen foot wide rectangular space above all our heads, bobbing and clacking along on the rails, that everyone there seemed to long for, in our sequestered and little doom, that would somehow derail the car we were in, so it couldn't take us to the place we were going,... we all knew it was demise but, that space above, became so heavy, for me, that I actually passed out on the way to the place. The car actually DID flip, it derailed, crashed, tore the walls from the car and, a few people even died in the wreck but, far fewer, than had the original fate planned.
I blinked my eyes a few times and dirt immediately fell into them, having been placed there so eloquently by the wreck, I, I nor any of us survivors had any idea where we were, random internal alliterations and a very familiar ringing in my ears were bombarding my own attention so, out of self defense, I passed out. Again.
I eventually got up to my feet and gathered enough snow to melt so I could wash the cold wet dirt from my eyes, it was really hurting but, I was still aware enough to realize that any noise could give away our position.
The first things I saw though, were a few different groups, huddled together over fires, a few others, wandering off into the nearby forest, I got really dizzy, and after a few sips of snowmelt, I passed out again.
(Janines Dream?)>?>
Quite a number of days went by, but I woke up clean, dressed, shaved and fed, I dont remember not having that fierce hunger gnawing in that particular way, at every single instant, of every single absurdly silent moment, I reached out a hand to the ground and, the warm dry sand beneath me, hmm, wait a minute,...
Maybe this isn't so bad, I just hope this isn't a small island with nobody else on it..
I wondered aloud to myself howd I even get here?
Then a soft female voice reassured me how little that mattered, and I sat up and turned around, quite pleased to see a beautiful blonde woman dressed in, woven palm fronds and animal hides?!! Whoah!
How very nice it must be, said the woman, to have to wake up not remembering...
I said to her then, well, I'm almost certain I've said this before but, can you help me with that? Thinking to myself, I know I've hit my head on something but Jesus what a knockout!
Well, she said, usually well get up and you catch us something to eat, well hang around our hut screwing all day and all night, at least on the days its not raining buckets of cats and dogs that is but, we usually talk about building stuff and gardening, different ways off the island and whether we'd just settle here together and make our own little country but, that usually gets too deep and we end up screwing some more, hoping we don't make too many copies of ourselves to handle.
This, my love, sounds absolutely brilliant. Proceed madam, as if you were the queen of England in her early years.
The stunning blonde woman then proceeded to straddle me as I lay there in the cane weave bed, lifted up so gently and, I passed out again.
Awakening ten odd years later in my highbacked office chair, from a nap I shook off the drowse, stood up, stretched out, yawned ferociously and I looked out the corner penthouse window at fifth Avenue far below me.
I was one of the last carbon barons of the twentieth century, as I'd studied at nearly every single ivy league school left, there were hundreds of plaques and awards hung from every imaginable surface in the place, my stuffed animal collection regarded my every thought, nuance and action before I had the chance to publicize, or not.
Yet, something about them still beckoned, yearned and called to me, I had to resort. And I'm not getting into what just now so, if you will, kindly get the tea service, I'll be needing a few moments to myself.
Very good sir. Said the butler.