Excuse me sir, I wonder if you could help me? I guess I’m not from around here. My destination’s not on this map. Everyone I’ve spoken to, they just shrug their shoulders. They’ve heard of it, just don’t know where to find it. Like Atlantis or Shangri-La, it seems to be almost mythical. But I’m positive I wasn’t just dreaming. I could have sworn that it was real.
I’m pretty sure someone wrote it down somewhere. Something about the foundation or cornerstone of something. Something, somewhere important.
I’m sorry. I know you’re busy. I don’t wish to interrupt. I can see you’ve got important things to get to. I’ll ask someone else, or just keep looking. I’ve heard there’s a shining beacon.
I’ve asked friends and family. I’ve ask news outlets. I’ve ask respected Congress members. I’m answered with silence most of the time. Skepticism, when there is a response. Oh yeah, three people with words of encouragement. That might only mean there’s four people delusional, or they Love me and don’t want to hurt my feelings.
Maybe this place doesn’t exist at all. Maybe I just imagined it. But I’m not that creative, not all that smart. I could not have come up with this on my own. It must have been something I read before. Something someone planted in my head. Some sort of propaganda tool, whispered to me when I was vulnerable. Maybe hidden in the creamy part of an Oreo.
Maybe I better just sit down. I’ve always heard if everyone tells you you’re drunk, then maybe you better sit down. Does that work if the whole bar is loaded? What happens when insane is normal? And normal tells you to sit?
I really do thank you for your time. I’ll just keep on looking. I have a copy on my wall back home. My phone says to check the first thing inside, The National Archive in Washington, D.C., in the United States of America. It says we can find this destination there. Maybe it wasn’t just a dream.