I’ve been googling for a long time.
I started by googling “God,” which brought me to Wikipedia,
which led me to a link on the side of that page that said "random article."
I clicked it. I landed on a page describing epidendrum coriifoliums,
which are a kind of orchid.
I thought about my grandmother, stricken with Alzheimer's.
When we place an orchid on her kitchen table, she remembers who we are.
I then googled the brain and its neurons, its chemicals, its electric pulses,
the ones that silently scream faster than sound, than anything really.
How something so fast controls what we do seems beyond my capacity of understanding.
Though, perhaps it's not. I search, again and again, I google. I have all the information I need
A student sits back in his chair and sighs out all his breath.
“This article is bogus.”
I ask him why.
“Google is designed as a utility that provides instantaneous information. So it’s not meant to answer these types of questions.”
“What types of questions?”
“Deep questions. About God. The answers to those questions don’t come instantaneously. They take, you know, lifetimes and shit.”
I want to know more, but I resist google. I avoid the search. Instead, I go for a long walk after dinner. I breathe in, I breathe out, and I run my hands along the peeling bark on the most ancient of sycamore trees.