I awoke the morning after my vacation to find myself again
hauling sludge in my home factory.
I am a sludge hauler. That is pretty much all I do. It is my place.
I haul sludge until I am too tired to do more than swallow my rations
and sleep as best I can in the cold.
Every so often we are rewarded with a vacation on Earth.
We are given a life and go about it as we choose, intermingling
with vacationers from other worlds and ways, all here suited as
humans, pretending for our recreation to create our own destinies.
Yet, even here we are still but humanoid renderings of who
we essentially are. Thus I found that during my time on Earth
I was mostly not happy, feeling that I could not fit in anywhere.
There were times that I was very happy indeed, painting
my pictures from my own ideas and imagination. Yes, there
was food and warmth, but these did not really enter my
consciousness as being anything other than routine.
I was dismayed to find that I was really rather surly, unlikeable.
No wonder I did not have a life of good fellowship and
Back from vacation, I find that sludge haulers are a rather surly bunch.
No one has much to say. There’s not much to say about hauling sludge.
Our Earth vacations are so strange to contemplate back here.
We keep what little we remember to ourselves. It is not a
social world here. True, we haul sludge in groups, but not in teams.
We eat and sleep alone, in small cubicles. It all seems rather pointless.
It seems to me that somehow, there must be more. I think about the times
I was happy on my vacation on Earth. There must be some way to
learn from that experience.
I enjoyed creating beauty from my own ideas and imagination.
It occurs to me that I need not actually create a painting.
No one would look at it anyway, even if materials existed.
The beauty is from me, inside my mind. I can look for it.
I can see the beautiful images, watch them move and change
into more beauty. I can do this while hauling sludge.
No one would be the wiser, except for wise, happy me.
If the beauty is in my mind, if I create it for myself, it doesn’t matter
whether I fit in with those around me. I am around me.
I am always exactly where I am, giving myself the pleasure of
my own beautiful creations. I can be anywhere, my body
engaged in servitude, yet gracefully dancing in the glorious
meadow of my own imagining.