Spelunking

At first the cave was an appealing even romantic symbol of introspection. Underground I thought maybe I could hear the heartbeat of the earth or some such hippie bullshit but after about 10 minutes, 3 hours, days, weeks, months of spending time in there, in that 20 ft. by 8 ft. geo-thermal, concrete, catacomb I realized that not only is it chilly, the air close and wet but that even the minutest sound reverberates off the domed ceiling and comes backs to you changed - in unearthly waves.

'I will be alone,' I thought naively, 'with time to think!'

Instead I realized that while tending to my daily cheese duties (brushing, washing, rubbing,schlepping, rack-cleaning, staring off into space (concrete though it is)) that I breathed more shallow, abstained from making any loud or even subtle noise, tried to hide from the cave whilst inside the cave! What doom did I think awaited me at the end of that dead-end tunnel?

I became to dislike the cave. Complained to myself when I had to perform my cheese duties down in there. The romance slowly waned.

But yesterday, oh glorious yesterday! I decided that instead of pretending to the cave that I was not there I would make myself known. I was going to sing in the cave.
Singing for me is often the one truly blissful part of my day. I forget everything when I sing, I go into a trance, sometimes I close my eyes, sometimes tears come out without my intention, I sink into a realm pure vibration, harmony, soul (and apparently total cheesiness, puns not formerly intended)...this is why it has always been so hard for me to sing in front of people. It is the closest thing I can relate to a religious experience.

But singing in the cave...this is beyond religious. It is like stepping into an ocean of tragic harmony. Concrete-reverb-doomed melodies pour around you like a swarm of cluster flies. No matter how hard you try to sing a happy note, it always boomerangs back half-flatted, warbling like the unluckiest of loons. It is awesome. I never liked happy songs in major keys anyway. I can sing all the songs nobody wants to hear, the songs of regret, the dirges of the heart, the songs that make you want to jump into a river and drown.

The first song I ever sang down there was Leadbelly's "Goodnight Irene." The cheese liked that one so much that I now use it as the fail safe encore. I once had a long-term resident spider but I think I sang it to death or maybe inhaled it whilst preparing for a long high note. When at my greatest loss for new haunting melodies I revert to humming "Greensleeves" or some distant memory of Stravinsky, Debussy or Shostakovitch. The most fitting songs though, always seem to be that of religious demeanor or inquiry or those of the most vile and uncomely human behavior...I guess those things go hand in hand.

The point is that I do not so much loathe the advent of working in the cave anymore rather, I can't wait to haunt and be haunted down there, especially when the lights suddenly fail and the whole veil of reality is temporarily lifted.