there is no time

how futile everything is

this was the thought passing through approximately every other breath, as i waited in the longest line of humanity ever assembled

then i'd remember to breathe and let it go, remembering that we are all doing time, and that two or three hours standing in the tijuana sun was an opportunity to practice meditation

but what a waste of human potential, not to mention the effect on people's esteem, to have to wait for hours while the man deems whether you are worthy of passing, whether you are safe, whether you have the right papers...

oh yeah, breathe, let it go, for i am gifted with this experience of life in this moment

it is hot, i have no sombrero, and my receding hairline offers new patches of head to the sun to burn

emptiness reminding me of zen emptiness of breath

my feet hurt after walking three hours through the concrete jungle, northward from the dental office on a self-guided tour

breathing, noticing the wider field of humanity again, the colors and shops and disabled folks coming by the line to sell chicle for change

my back hurts and I crouch a moment, noticing no one else ever crouches down, maybe that would mean giving in just a bit too much to a desire for comfort that never comes

this is the condition of humanity, is it not: we are all waiting in line, and time for all practical purposes has--as the Mayans predicted--stopped

there is no hope whatsoever, and once it settles in, this is a blessing also, for there is only this

-----

I probably took longer to cross the border than most of the other thousands of souls caught on the wrong side of the fence that afternoon

because before entering the standing line, i paid $5 to sit in a van of 15 people that got stuck in traffic and didn't move an inch for over an hour

feeling a tad claustrophobic, I bailed for the experience of the line, but not before hearing the driver respond to a fellow passenger's query as to how long it would take

he answered simply:

no hay tiempo