Parrots in my yardHow mundane it is, ten thousand miles from home. Everyone in their cars, to and from work, everyone in buses and cars. How small our world that we should all live these impoverished lives, set apart from each other by suspicion and fear.
How exotic it is, ten thousand miles from home. Parrots in my yard and a lizard scuttles across the paving. Now I have the love of Australian women, I never would have imagined. Now I am a different person, neither one thing nor another. I thought I would be a good man, at least, something like it, and I find I am nothing like it. I didn't grow; I stayed the same and only my shell changed.
Even my eyes have changed. They were once green, you couldn't have doubted it, but now you can't be sure. Today they are blue, tomorrow green again, and all that you could say is how flat and dull they are. I didn't ever imagine I would become dull, lifeless and inert, although I was never anything else. I imagined I had a motor that could start if I could turn the key.
It is hot. The sky is mostly blue. It might rain later but you can be sure it will be hot. When I first came here, I slept through the hot, still afternoons. I rested. I conserved my strength. What for, I don't know.
I am still vigorous and young. The grey hair is misleading. I don't feel blunted, although I suppose I must be. It all falls away, we know that, and we pretend it doesn't. It all shifts and slides, but it slides downhill. We know that water flows always downhill but we imagine somehow we will climb the slope. We are the reverse of Sisyphus, trying to find happiness by pretending we are going somewhere. At least he knew there was no point to what he was doing and could not pretend otherwise.
The other day there were parrots in my yard. I don't know what they were expecting to find. They came, stayed briefly and then were gone. That is all they did.