Seriously. Either my head is about to explode or I’m an alien. Or I’m an alien whose head is about to explode. Either way, aliens and exploding heads are involved.
To Whom It May Concern:
This is why you can’t forget. This is the reason that you can’t disconnect. This is the reason there are silent phone calls from lonely hands desperately clinging to the receiver, determined not to miss a single uttered syllable.
This is the reason there are those cliché chance meetings of old memories in cute places like mall parking lots.
This is the reason that desire is ensnared by trembling lips (oh how it wishes to be set free, to become substantial. It waits impatiently to express itself as a timid confession, or an illusionary caress trapped between fantasy and reality. [You want it to be real so bad you can taste it. We all can.] )
This is the reason you tremble. Your body’s soft tremors explode upon you as the titillating crescendo of hellish pleasure confiscates your starving nerve endings and makes them its own.
This is what intrigues you to the point of insanity. You want to know so bad—to be a part of it—to become a part of it. This is your channel to the chaos of life, of existence outside the American Dream. This is the spirit of Lord Byron, of Jack Kerouac, of Shakespeare.
These are emotions we can’t control. These are the tsunamis of Fortune crashing over us while we atone ourselves with a constant flow of sacrificial tears.
This is a fact: “They say that if your pupils are dilated when you are talking to somebody it means you are attracted to them.” See what happens when angels whisper the secrets of God into the ears of sleeping men? Now we spend all of our time gazing into the eyes of the potential authors of our epic love story (searching for a great cavern of endless black hope).
This is a timid confession: When you look into my eyes, it feels like you are trying to break through the shallow surface and journey farther down the rarely-trodden paths that lead to those places where the most tender perceptions lie . Sometimes I wonder if you are trying to explore the barriers of my soul in hopes of discovering that tiny infraction, that one open spot that will allow you to enter triumphantly. What then? Would you explore all that you saw? Gracious God forgive us, we have sinned. This is just an issue, an unexpected pleasure brought to us by Fate (sweet blessings upon her, whoever she is).
These are the scenes from the life of a screaming god. I would wake up but this has become all that is real to me. What am I going to do? Am I Cursed? Sometimes it feels like a hopeless burden ( or an exquisite torture). Yes I cry. But who doesn’t cry because beauty always lies? Change your mind. Do it. If it were that easy it wouldn’t be worth it. So I remain unrated, hopelessly fated, never jaded, and elegantly understated. I don’t know what to do. For when I dream now, there are things like sitting on fallen trees in sunlit woods and laughing about the notion of it and smiles that cover faces like murals of joy.
That is what this is. If it were a color it would be all of them at once. If it were a hologram of Shakespeare it would flirt with your muse. If it were the Penguin King it would commit suicide (sadly, some cannot cope with universal shifting. The burden of Chaos becomes too much for them). If it were Buddha it would be going home. And if it were jack shit, more people would know it.
New Mexico. The Land of Enchantment. It’s where I was born and raised. As a kid and a young adult, I explored much of the beauty of New Mexico. Carlsbad Caverns, Bottomless Lakes, Lincoln, The Sandia Mountains, Jemez Mountains are just a few of the places I’ve adventured. But New Mexico offers so much more. There really is a kind of magic here. An enchantment, if you will, that surrounds and permeates the land and the people that populate it. In an effort to see more of New Mexico’s mysterious and magical places, some friends and I have decided to do one adventure a month to all the magical places we’ve never been. Hence, the trek to the Los Lunas Mystery Rock.
The rock has a wiki site, if you’d like to read the longer history. For those of you in love with brevity, the mystery rock is an 80 ton rock with the 10 commandments carved into it. As if that isn’t a metaphorical feat in itself, in addition the commandments were written in a Semitic language that dates to 1000 B.C.! The enigma has been there for a while and has a history of confusing the native Americans which named the rock and the mountain it rests near, “Mystery Mountain”.
Despite being located near the Los Lunas Landfill, Mystery Mountain is an impressive site. We had to hop two fences (with barbed wire) and trek through an arroyo to get to the mountain, but it wasn’t a bad hike. It only took us about 30 minutes to reach the rock itself. My first impression was that the rock was awe-inspiring and certainly mysterious. It was carved in a remote spot with diligence and expertise. The letters weren’t scratched into the rock like the rest of the graffiti around the place, but were actually chiseled into the stone. There was a lot of graffiti around the stone, places were people have left their own mark. I wondered what it is about places like this that compel people to add to them? I’ve seen several petroglyph sites and all of them have their fair share of recent(ish) graffiti. “J hearts M”, MG was Here, “Sore Foot Gulch 1957” were only a few of the desecrations I saw around the Rock. It occurred to me then that people that stumbled on places of power were always compelled to mark it for its own sake. People mark these places or build structures to commemorate them because of the power that area exudes.
Something compelled not only the Mystery Rock artisans to work here, but native American populations as well. Once we hiked to the top of Mystery Mountain we uncovered many Native American petroglyphs as well as what appeared to be the remains of several structures.
The hike to the top of Mystery Mountain was rough. Loose rock, mud and ice tested our endurance with every step.
The wind was awful, literally trying to blow us off the mountain. We stopped for a rest in an old wind-break.
But even with an angry wind making us suffer for our trespass, the views from atop Mystery Mountain could not be spoiled.
All in all, it was a great adventure. While the mystery of Mystery Rock remains unsolved, the area itself still holds an enchanting power and beckons all adventurers come who wish to uncover her secrets!