Reading Questions__Wi.doc Nov. 29, 2004
In 2004 I still didn’t know Wi. I set out from the pathetic little brothel where I was raised thinking Wi couldn’t be far off. I limped my little limp down to the scruffy duff where I befriended the King of the Ants. He said that even though he had excellent long antennae perfect for the social media of the day, he didn’t know Wi.
I stroked his long, feathery antennae and murmured over and over, “Wi, Wi, Wi.” He wiggled and thought and finally sent me down in the dark culvert where he thought it was likely Wi went in wet weather. The culvert was dark and slimy with a special kind of toxic algae. There were a lot of folks down in the ditch coming and going from the river. I stopped rats and raccoons, small children and squirrels and asked if they knew Wi.
They threw me distressed glances, shook their dirty dreads, dribbled ginger crumbs and hurried away.
It was a long drop down to the river, and I was terrified of the way the vines shimmied in the wind. The blue rowboat had an oarsman named Paddy Olson and he said thought he knew Wi as he wended our weary way west. I slept under the gunnel and in my dream Wi came to me and anointed my feet and set my name in the stars.
When I awoke, I had several questions.
How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?
Which is worse, failing or never trying?
If life is so short, why do we do so many things we don’t like and like so many things we don’t do?
When it’s all said and done, will you have said more than you’ve done?
Paddy said to use the old laptop tied to the anchor chain; he said to write down The Wi in my dream and I did that and I gave him the old green jump drive with the chipped Betty Boop decal on it and he asked Wi and I said really, I didn’t know Wi. That was Nov. 29, 2004. I just got this jump in the mail today. I wonder Wi?