14,000 Years Old

I wondered, after watching again (for the fifth time), The Man of Earth (highly recommended), what would I be doing, both generally and specifically, had I remained alive after 14,000 years on this pale blue dot. It is surely an extraordinary age for a human — am I human? — or any other animal, as far as we know. Only trees could reach such an age under optimal circumstances, which does not seem to be possible any longer ever since humans became the so-called rulers of this world.

I would have worn many costumes throughout the years; perhaps even a blue dress behind closed doors given the predators of men wearing dresses, unless I lived in Scotland and settled for a skirt.

I would have moved to Greece sooner or later; perhaps meeting Pythagoras before he became famous, and falling in love with Goddess Athena, another immortal being who would not imply any forthcoming mourning.

I would have become an atheist as soon as I learned that Earth was not flat. Religion is two-dimensional at best, and a gigantic globe turning around a stellar star within a colossal galaxy in a seemingly infinite universe do not bode well for any religion.

I would have lamented the loss of too many humans, until I adapted to the assured death of everyone except myself. Long-term relationships would have been reluctantly sought, unless love’s chest bite was too powerful to avoid. Anthi comes to mind, of course.

I would have spent at least a century in India and a few other Eastern areas to learn about the immaterial and the meaning of the human soul. I would have fought against reincarnation, refusing the belief in coming back as any other animal.

I would have felt fortunate at first, for a few thousands years at least or at most, before feeling guilty of remaining alive while everyone else died, and then trying to commit suicide by going to wars against the usual ruthless victors.

I would have considered it a beautiful story if another human, preferably a woman, had accompanied me during most of these 14,000 years (and counting). Anthi comes to mind again.

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Manouchedrome Trio ft. Sofia Braila - Une Belle Histoire (A Beautiful Story; original by Michel Fugain)

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Other Moving Lives - Life Frames

Whether short or wide

long or black & white

a movie is a life

No matter if it’s forgotten soon

or a year after that

we’ve just watched a period of time

other moving lives

If the movie is very good

we may watch it again

several times

Charlie Chaplin’s The Kid

and any other of his movies after that

Woody Allen’s Everything You Always Wanted to Know

About Sex But Were Afraid to Ask

and all of his films before and after this

Star Trek III: The Search for Spock

any Star Trek really

home screen or public screening

The list of movies goes all the way to Mars

The Matrix couldn’t be surpassed

until The Hours became a must

Kenneth Branagh’s four-hour Hamlet

still blinks To Be or Not to Be in my head

over twenty years later

Claude Lanzmann’s nine-and-a-half-hour Shoah

will never leave my brain

We watch movies to escape

see other life frames

many of theirs are much worse

our life frames tend to corrode

We watch their lives

see our lives flickering

like moths following a flare of light

physicists still wasting strings on time

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Life Versus Love - Haiku Against Haiku

Life began somewhere

along an infinity

of darkened spacetime.

*****

Love began just when

I saw your face, and your glance

arrested my eyes.