the holy grail

Where do we put it all together? Well, I have no idea. But if I did where would that idea live? Would it take off its shoes at the door and sink into its favorite chair or is it fleeting, always running out the door leaving just a swift kiss on the cheek to hold on to?

All the circuits light up, electricity elicited by the movement of matter zooming about a collaborative collection of carbon sewn together with collagen and calcium. But all those circuits seem to have no end, no integrative moment, no final canvas or projection screen.

Where does that click happen? You know the click I’m talking about, that instant it makes sense, when you find the final puzzle piece that you had been sitting on the entire time, when you finally release the stale air that had taken up residence inside your chest. We’ve all been there, but a map to that secret editing room has never been held in any hands other than those of the cartographer himself.

This is the endgame of the sciences, an investigative crusade. A search for the holy grail. The jewel encrusted trophy that what affectionately call consciousness, self, being, existence. PhD’s clad in lab coat suits of armor, wielding pipettes like Excalibur, casting spells in fluorescent hues. They know their journey might be fruitless, they know that they may well die in battle, weakened by fumes not contained by hoods and crippled by confounds as abundant as the plague. Dedicated to answer the question: How do we fight to keep living? How do we organize all of our cells, fibers, molecules, atoms, and the dynamic space in between to get up in the morning? To melt into our favorite, familiar chair at the end of the day? To smack our lips against the our lovers soft cheek as you rush past the welcome mat?