1.01 AM, Friday, August 17th, 2007

What if the what ifs in life are beyond the sane? Well, of course they are, but then what if the sun had dozed a little on the 23rd of January, if its temperature had cooled the tiniest parcel of a degree centigrade, if the weather 90 million miles away shifted in the slightest, would it have changed the course of time or the vandalism in my chest? If a single drop of dew had lingered an extra moment in the mid-morning sun, would it have been enough to alter this reality? Would my guts still urge me to rebellion, toward the pavement, toward a salty display of fireworks in honor of a witnessed kiss? Not my kiss, of course, but igniting nonetheless a sort of sour dramedy. Working at the carefully mended knot, pulling at the pieces and loosening the only nice bits, and then again what if the moons orbiting Jupiter had paused in their journey, paused to sigh or think about which skirt they might wear on a Sunday if the opportunity arose? What if the gravitational pull of the entire universe was altered, would that have changed a damn thing?

If everything happens for some reason, even the birth of a wormy caterpillar, and every tiny gasp plays its power in my universe. . . if everything that happens, happens, would a speck of past intervention or even a giant boulder colliding with a puppy dog change the happen-ness of my happiness?

It remains that the sane lack the ifs, the 'what the world might look like' outside of this world. This world is, and without my gut's personal revolt it would no longer be this world. In another world I might have challenged in the iditarod, or scaled a pyramid with my magical fingers, or made her want to stay and love me. In another world I might be a frog, too. Or a flea, which would explain the dog-racing. The ifs continue without pause when you think about it. All the ways this world might mirror another.

But then again what if I lived in this world, with these hands, and these aches? If I lived here and knew it, would it be better than the worlds I imagine when the aching just above my gut reaches its height? Would I care if it were better?