Let alone

I remember not being here. I know that I have awakened from this dream. When I let myself, I cherish this wafting merely emergent experience, not graspable even at the periphery let alone in the magnificence of its essentially subtle core.

I must have been let out then, in my remembering, like hot gas and vapor escaping from volcanic fumarole, let out like pants rescued from a being too tight. Everyone needs an outlet.

Perhaps some find refuge in outlet malls or via media outlets or afloat on the outlet of streams flowing from lakes. Let me be out front: All these possibilities leave me down and out. I search for the out and outer outlet, the outlet not covered by protective cap.

The massive metaphysical complexity should be no surprise in a world that sports no less than 13 types of electrical outlet. There are flat prongs and round prongs, in v-shapes and parallel. There are earth connections, male and female, round and flat. And there are outlets without earth connection. There are plugs to match each, hopefully to match, somewhere if not here.

It can be a struggle to match even clearly defined physical entities on familiar ground, let alone when not being simply here in this dream. I know I let it all hang out; I let it rip; I let myself go; I let it fly. I vent.

Perhaps birds can fly because of their singular vent, their all-purpose cloaca interface. The usual perception of our human anatomical interface is much more complex, let alone the amazing theory of Anne Fausto-Sterling. She defines three sexes more than the usual female and male. Herms have both testes and ovaries; ferms have ovaries and some aspect of male genitalia; and merms have male genitals with some aspect of female genitalia. Ms. Fausto- Sterling cites that 17 out of every 1,000 births are intersexed, that is, do not fit the expected sexual anatomy. Who can classify the subtle anatomical differences, let alone the meanings given those differences? And how could all that be spoken?

Certain etymological paradoxes suggest how much is not revealed by language, let alone fully comprehended. Let us consider the word “let.” There are two Old English roots of this short and ostensibly simple word. The first, lettan, means to delay or hinder. The other root, laetan, means to permit, to allow. The current meaning of this little word escapes me, like Schrodinger’s cat let out of its bag. The purr of the word Morpheus’ embrace?

Perhaps the only vent that avails, that lets this enterprise, is found at the deepest ocean bottom.

Hydrothermal vent, fissure in ocean floor near mid-ocean ridge, is outlet for super-heated mineral rich water. In this 176 Fahrenheit degree environ, chemosynthetic bacteria provide food to life forms who let go of the usual reasonable direct reliance on the sun for sustenance. These bacteria create food from sulfur compounds for giant tube worms, out all earth life in the early time. And then we let on we didn’t mind, we let in we don’t mind, and we let out we do. In emphasizing the improbability of contrasting examples could we simply create mind outlet, let alone let live in and bask in the bliss which is by nature never let alone?

How can you let me tell you, one on one, let alone embrace us as the one we are always becoming?

— Rx is the FloridaWeekly muse who hopes to inspire profound mutiny in all those who care to read. Our Rx may be wearing a pirate cloak of invisibility, but emanating from within this shadow is hope that readers will feel free to respond. Who knows: You may even inspire the muse. Make contact if you dare.