A History of Everything including you - an essay by Jenny Hollowell read by Amanda
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Language
EnglishVoice Age
Senior (55+)Accents
South African (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
a history of everything, including you. Bye, Jenny Hollowell. First there was God or gods or nothing. Then synthesis space, the expansion explosions, implosions, particles, objects, combustion and fusion. Out of the chaos came order. Stars were born and shown and died. Planet rolled across the Galaxies on invisible ellipses and the elements combined and became life evolved or was created, sells trembled and divided a gasp and found dry land. Soon they grew legs and friends and hands and Tina and mouths and ears and wings and eyes. Eyes that opened. Why to take all of it In the creeping, growing, soaring swimming, calling stampeding universe, eyes opened and closed and opened again. We called blinking above a Sean a star that we called the sun and we called the ground the earth. So we named everything, including ourselves. We were men and woman. And when we got lonely we figured out a way to make more of us. We called it six and most people enjoyed it. We fell in love. We talked about God and banged stones together and made sparks and called them fire. We got warmer and the food got better. We got married. We had some Children. They cried and cooled and grew. One dissected flowers, sometimes eating the petal, another like to chase squirrels. We fought wars over money and honour and women. We starved ourselves. We hired prostitutes with purified water. We compromised, decorated and became esoteric. One of us stopped breathing and turned blue, and then others. First, we covered them with leaves, and then we buried them in the ground. We remember them. We forgot them. We aged our buildings kept getting taller. We hired lawyers and formed councils and lift paper trails. We negotiated, We admitted we got sick and searched for cures. We invented lipstick, vaccines, Belotti, Sona, solar panels, interventions, table manners, fire arms, window treatments, therapy, birth control, tailgating status, symbols, palimony, sportsman ships, focus group Zoloft, sunscreen, landscaping, sister's fortune, cookies, chemotherapy, convenience foods and computers. We angered militants and our mothers. You were born. You learned to walk and went to school and played sports and lost your virginity and got into a decent college and majored in psychology and went to rock shows and became political and got drunken, changed your major to marketing and water turtlenecks, sweaters and read novels and volunteered and went to movies and developed a taste for blue cheese dressing. I make you through friends and didn't like you At first the feeling was mutual, but we got used to each other. We had six for the first time behind an art gallery. Standing up slightly drunk. You held my face in your hands and said that I was beautiful and you were too tall. With a street light behind you, we went back to your place and listen to the white Album were ordered in. We fought and made up and Good God, good jobs and got married and Borden apartment and worked out and eight more and talk less. I got depressed. You ignored me. I was sick of you. You drank too much and got careless with money. I slept with my boss. We're into counselling and got a dog. I bought a book of six positions and we tried the least. A grading won the wheelbarrow. You took flight Lee since and subscribe to Rolling Stones. I learned Spanish and started gardening. We had some Children who more released a port, disappointed us, but might have been awful. You were too indulgent and I was too critical. We love them anyway. One of them died before we did. Stabbed on the subway, We grieved. We move, We adopted the cats. The world seemed uncertain. We live beyond our means. I got judgmental and belligerent. You got confused and easily tired. You ignored me. I was sick of you. We forgave. We remembered. We made cocktails. We got teen. There was a time on the porch when you said, Can you believe it? This was near the aim. Then your hands were trembling. I think you were talking about everything, including us. Did you want me to say it so that it wouldn't be lost? It was too much for me to think about. I couldn't go back to the beginning. I said, Not really. And we watched the sun go down, a dog kid barking in the distance and you were tired. But you smiled and you see, Hear that? It's rough, rough, rough. And we love you were like that. Now your question is my project in our house is full of clues. I'm reading old letters and turning over rocks. I bury my face in your sweaters. I study a photograph taken at the beach, the sun in our eyes and the water behind us. It's a victory to remember the forgotten picnic basket and your striped beach blanket. It's a victory to remember how the jellyfish stung you and you ran screaming from the water. It's a victory to remember treating the wound with me tenderizer and you saying I made it, Peter, I will tell you this. Standing on our hill this morning, I looked at the land we chose for ourselves. I saw a few green patches and how sweet little shade that same dog was barking. Storm was moving in. I didn't think of heaven, but I saw that the clouds were beautiful and I watched them covered the sun.