This was posted back in August of 2014, but it was set to draft mode, so I’m bringing it back. It was written on July 31st, from the H Tank, Bunk 21– Orange County Jail.
I’ve always been fascinated by Lasts
The Last Samurai, The Last of the Mohicans, the last item left at a garage sale, or even all the things I wouldn’t do even if I was the last human on earth.
“The Last” is a tangible ending— not the sort that brushes by unnoticed, but the type that toots its own horn. It does not whisper, it bangs, and it screams to the world, “Hear me now, see me now! I am the end, and I am the beginning.” It is not the snake’s mouth, or the tip of the tail. It is “The Last”. It is the space that holds the mouth and tail together, transforming a snake into an ouroboros, and a story into an eternity. It is magical.
Today is the last day of July and I am savoring it. It is the last moment of July 2014 that I will ever see. It will be a whole year before I see a shade or glimmer of July again. It is a last, and today, I am mesmerized by its swan song.
I feel this day stretching into August and though all July’s have done this dance, it seems to be taking its time. It is yawning into the start of a new month, warming to the idea of a tomorrow where it does not exist as anything except a memory, and—even then—just a faded one.
Still, it toots its own horn, bangs its own drums, and sings its own swan song. It will be forgotten in due time, but time washes and fades everything, so it does not take the slight personally. In fact, this day has nothing to say about tomorrow at all. It is simply celebrating how it was born of the grandeur of yesterday and rose to everything it could be.
In July, people loved and told truths, saplings turned to trees, birds found some of the shiniest things, and balloons escaped into the heavens. And there were lies born, and knees scraped, and tragedies, and death. But most importantly—the world lived to the end of today’s tale, and has started to sparkle its way to the mouth of eternity. A full circle begins again, and for this brief breath—
we are forever.
Until tomorrow, when we begin the spiral of madness, creation, and destruction again.
Tomorrow is a first— the first day of August— and I will be celebrating.
I’ve always had a fascination with Firsts…
How was your July? How is your August shaping up?