falling manifestations (& fairy tales)

where is the man, that I'm not supposed
to pay attention to...behind the curtain,
to give me my testimonial to prove i have
had all along what i thought was missing?
i drove to malibu over the weekend
to sit at the seaside market
and read self help books
and breathe in the same air
as the rich and successful
families and lovers and
and even some other wanderers
to see if that would change me.
to see if the air itself could be my
testimonial and even speak to me
in the form of a pigeon or
some other spirit that looks like
a wise old man or a muse from
further down a road
that i have yet to see the end of.
i read all day and overheard
blended conversations
of strangers with no worries
hoping they would cough on me
and it would be contagious.
i got up for a moment to
journey across the way
in search of a bathroom
being stopped by chartities
looking for money.
had to tell them I was just passing through.
not a local.
not able to help them today,
that i was just pretending i was from there
so if they would take a pretend donation
i could indeed do that.
suddenly i found the marketplace
not at all what i was searching for.
Not Oz or pretend wise old men
to show me what i had all along...
i wanted wonderland, which i guess it's easy to
confuse the two...modern fairytales.
I was looking for my own...
so i ran down the road
after imaginary white rabbits
in the form of range rovers and porsches
and came to a tree.
and i climbed
thinking I could climb
high enough to see my wonderland,
but it was too hard to climb.
thought if i got high enough
i could leap and fly to my
wonderland...
but dammit no matter how many pages
of self help books i read
i do not have wings...after all.
no matter how much i believe
in fairy tales and impossible dreams
at the end of the day i am still me.
i am still me?
I thought that was the whole point.
to find me...
maybe i already found me.
am i my own wizard?
and then i did the most boring obvious thing
i could think of
because i was worn out from trying too damn hard
to be original.
intead of just simply myself.
I went to the place where the waves meet the sand
and dug a hole.
and as i looked up to the bluffs and saw
a canary yellow beach house
that i swore would be mine one day soon,
i imagined a rabbit jumping down the hole...
and i followed..
and i fell
and i didnt think
and nothing could stop me
as gravity became my craft
to freedom and a me that
was born for wonderland
but for so many years
i was holding on too tight
for dear life
not accepting
that the only way
to truly know yourself
is to fall...
(and as i fell i remembered digging holes with you and planting magic sticks that would root and create paths to wonderland...dear you, go find one and i will meet you there and we will beat the dragons together...and then we will go have hot chocolate and dream in the canary yellow beach house that i still can see as i fall..and wait..and love...and hold you from afar...)
and love...