Rock of ages
...I am tumbling down...
*
It's October. In my memory I always think it is August, but it's late October. I've finally visited the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago. A place I dreamed about. Imagined skylights glancing on Egyptian and Sumatran ruins, mummies and hieroglyphics all around...
What I got in late 1998 was a museum being remodeled. It was still amazing, finally seeing things I had only read about for so long...but even seeing the Assyrian lion from the triumphal gate of Ninevah, somewhat still in packing box and whatnot didn't quite do it for me.
So I walked around the campus. For all I know I passed Tucker Max or one of my future ex girlfriends that day. I did make it to a few bookstores. And while browsing I kept the headphones on.
And I walked outside after a brief rainstorm, and it was hot and muggy and the kind of air where it hurts to breathe...but I had this playing on repeat the entire way back to the metro. My backpack was overloaded with books I've long since lost, loaned out, or just plain lost. But for a few moments, walking amongst those buildings, I had a sense of history and place.
*
...in an avalanche, in an avalanche, such a heavy rock...
*
It's October. In my memory I always think it is August, but it's late October. I've finally visited the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago. A place I dreamed about. Imagined skylights glancing on Egyptian and Sumatran ruins, mummies and hieroglyphics all around...
What I got in late 1998 was a museum being remodeled. It was still amazing, finally seeing things I had only read about for so long...but even seeing the Assyrian lion from the triumphal gate of Ninevah, somewhat still in packing box and whatnot didn't quite do it for me.
So I walked around the campus. For all I know I passed Tucker Max or one of my future ex girlfriends that day. I did make it to a few bookstores. And while browsing I kept the headphones on.
And I walked outside after a brief rainstorm, and it was hot and muggy and the kind of air where it hurts to breathe...but I had this playing on repeat the entire way back to the metro. My backpack was overloaded with books I've long since lost, loaned out, or just plain lost. But for a few moments, walking amongst those buildings, I had a sense of history and place.
*
...in an avalanche, in an avalanche, such a heavy rock...


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