Spy of the First Person by Sam Shepard

Author:Sam Shepard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2017-12-05T05:00:00+00:00

22

There are times when I can’t help thinking about the past. I know the present is the place to be. It’s always been the place to be. I know I’ve been recommended by very wise people to stay in the present as much as possible, but the past sometimes presents itself. The past doesn’t come as a whole. It always comes in parts.

In fact it comes apart. It presents itself as though it was experienced in fragments.

Why? Why, for instance, is the past…..Excuse me…..why, for instance, is the present preferred to the past? Because assumedly the present is what’s making memories. It’s what’s making the past. Sometimes it seems very fleeting.

What exactly is the experience of the present? The experience of the present is one of anonymity. Complete anonymity. The way the sun hits the pavement. The way it hits your bare feet. The way dog shit squeezes between your toes. The way a quarter goes a long way. The way a quarter used to go a long way. The way a quarter could buy you an Abba-Zaba. The way chlorine smells. The way chlorine attacks your nostrils. The way your trunks fit. The way water comes over your head. The way your eyes open underwater and see things. What do you see? You see other people, other human beings struggling to keep their eyes open underwater. The present is a many-faceted thing. Much like the past.

But the present comes with a tangible experience, he says, rocking back and forth. Rocking. Rocking. He says, pausing. No but wait a second just a second what about miracles. What about the cure? There has to be a cure. At one point in the past—at some point in the past—everything was alright. There was no desperation. Everything worked. So what is the cure. Is there some way to cure the present? Can we do something as simple as taking a hot bath of mineral water. Or do we have to start all over. There must be a cure. We are children of the miraculous. Long pause. Pausing. A long pause. Pausing. Nobody hangs on his words. Nobody hangs in the moment. Nobody really hangs for nobody.

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