Page 34 - Demo

Tonight, we kill the bear. Or, at least, I think we do. No one knows what lies here, who or what dies here, but I think that’s what makes it fun.
Everything hides behind itself, under the vast layers of candy wrappers, snow slush, and notes (that I wish I hadn’t read) all piled up into hills on the car oor. And if we call it what it is, then it is epistemol- ogy—the study of the beginnings of our knowledge. And if we lie, then it is the stacks of boxes of clothes and old toys that I suppose we won’t ever play with again.
Galaxies could de ne you, but you are made of garage musicals and electric blue light that the scien- tists say prevent us from sleeping well—so how about we turn it o and try to rest? And is it all about the falling, falling . . . crash? Or the mental state and the numbness that must feel like emptiness but isn’t? And how does it feel to wake up from such places? Observer, can I ask, what is it really all about? I was
once so young, like you. So naïve and determined like you. So let me ask. Was I the one who killed the bear?
Verb (Latin)
tegō (present in nitive tegere, perfect active texi, supine tectum); third conjugation
1.) I cover; I clothe. 2.) I protect.
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Tego
Abby Kirby