Waiting.
For the moment that never comes.
For the poetry that should happen.
For the fulfillment of hope.
For the rightness of things.
Cold.
Wistful wishing unacknowledged.
Heart gone silent.
Dead skin over chilled muscle.
Frozen hopes crystalline irises.
Still.
Cannot shut out the hope entirely.
Tragedy and comedy are insufficient.
No moment, no completion.
Run to not see the void in reality.
Why wait?
No moment comes.
But if it did,
Just lie again.
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Journey: The Memory-Taker
As I wandered down the gravelly road, I spied a strange obelisk jutting into the sky from the otherwise featureless, flat, grassy plains I walked through. Its dark silhouette made it look almost as if someone had jabbed a giant stake into the soft ground by the side of the road. As I approached it, I could see that it was not simply a stake, it was a kind of raised chair, raised high on a solid wooden block right next to the road. The arms and back were of a piece with the base, and now I could see why it had appeared as a solid mass to me at first. A mass was resting in the chair, made of various shades of brown melding into one another so it was difficult to make out edges, and it was covered entirely in what seemed to be a webbed net of some kind, with no apparent beginning or end. I kept walking towards the chair, as it seemed to grow taller as I got closer. Finally, stopping in front of it and looking up, it stood at least ten feet tall, with the indistinct netted object only partly visible from my lower viewpoint.
The object moved. I jumped back, but it did not pounce or attack me. It simply stretched slowly, and as a face turned up and gazed down at me through the netting I realized the bundle had been a person, hunched over and curled up, in indeterminate brown coverings. His, or maybe her, hands came up to grasp the net on either side of its face as it just looked at me, blinking perhaps once or twice. I tried to steady myself as I addressed it.
"Hello...? I'm sorry, I didn't see you there, um..." The figure just sat there, still and quiet. I waited, unsure what to do next. Finally, it lowered its head so its face was again hidden and extended its fingers feebly through the netting towards me. Uncertain of what to do, I approached the chair, reaching up on my toes until my fingers barely brushed those of the figure in the chair.
I cannot explain to you what I saw next, save to try to describe it as perhaps a library of colors that seemed to come out of nowhere in front of me. Each color was a feeling, or perhaps the feeling was the color, and they all were pictures, moving with sound and context. Needless to say I was both staggered and confused. Then, in an instant, I saw a moment, a quick flash of time, as if I was there. Someone I didn't recognize, yet who was very familiar, was holding me, his (or was it her?) hands rubbing my hair fondly. And I was so happy, so very happy...
The vision faded and I was standing where I had been, fingers not quite touching the bone-thin fingers still poking through the web. Nothing around me had changed, yet that feeling of happiness still stayed with me, strong as it had been, and I couldn't help but smile though I couldn't think of a reason for this sudden feeling of joy. I turned my attention back to the figure, whose face was hidden again from me.
"Wha- What just happened? Did you see that? Did you see anything? What's going on?" I couldn't stop the questions, though I scarcely cared for the answer. I was quite pleased with the situation overall, quite pleased with everything come to think of it. I raised my hands to my head and held it, laughing quietly. The feeling of euphoria was fading a bit now, down into mere happiness, but I still felt like everything around me was just that much brighter and cleaner than it had been before...
"You really don't know? You don't recognize what I am?" A quiet, tired voice spoke to me from the figure still curled in on itself high above me. It took me a moment to realize it had spoken at all. I moved a step back.
"Should I?" I queried. The voice laughed, though it could barely be called a laugh, it was so sad and cynical. What must have been its head raised slightly, just enough for me to see slits of eyes looking at me through the thick net that covered it.
"I'm a Memory-Taker. If you didn't come out here to use me... I see. It's done anyway." The head hid and the figure seemed to withdraw into itself again.
"No, please!" I pleaded, still happy but now dreadfully curious. "Tell me who you are. What you do... I don't understand. Why are you all the way out here? What happened to me?" It took the figure several minutes to respond at all, and when it did, there was more tiredness than cynicism in its voice.
"I'm a Memory-Taker. I take memories and... you take one of mine in return." It unfolded slightly, placing the palms of his (or her) hands on the base of the crude wooden chair and lifting his (or her) head again to look at me, eyes glittering within the shade of nondescript unkempt hair.
"I am out here because I am shameful. I take your worst memories, those you would give anything to forget, and in exchange you take one of my memories to replace it. No one would want to admit to coming to me, but they all do, eventually..." The voice became terribly terribly sad.
"Twenty years. I spent twenty years with everything I could ask for. Everyone loved me. I had everything. And I was happy, almost always happy, and fulfilled, there was nothing I wanted, no-one I hated. At least that's what they tell me.
Then they brought me here. All my life, it had been for this, it seems. I must serve now to repay the years of happiness I had. So I serve. I stay here, and let the rest of you forget. You come and you take and you take." The voice hushed to where I could barely make out what it said next.
"I have so little left..."
I was struck. I did not or could not bear to understand what I was hearing. That happiness that I had had still glowed in my heart like a warm ember, staving off the despair I could sense now from the figure, but it could not dispel it completely.
"How long have you been here?" I whispered. The figure slowly shook her head.
"I don't know. I don't remember." I took several steps back.
"I- I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't-" I tripped over my words as I tried to find the right things to say. The figure raised it's head fully, strands of hair falling away from the face as it faced me fully. Now I could see the gaunt cheekbones, the lined eyes and mouth, the dark black rings around the eyes that were hidden before. Those piercing eyes, I could not tell their age anymore, stared at me hollowly.
"I took your memory, remember? She was your best friend wasn't she? Can you remember what happened to her now?" With a start, I realized who the figure (I still could not make out gender) was talking about. And, with another shock of surprise, I realized I could not, in fact, remember the details of her death. I knew she was dead, my friend from long ago, but I could not remember how, nor how it had made me feel. There was just... a warmth when I thought about it. I hugged my arms around myself. The figure spoke in a whisper once more.
"If you had known... would you have chosen differently?" I couldn't bring myself to look it in the face. I wanted to say yes, that I would never wish the worst of my memories on another person, but... I honestly didn't know if that was true. Before I realized what I was doing I had taken several steps away from the raised chair, and was beginning to walk hastily down the road again. I stared forward, not daring to look back till I had gone a good distance. Finally glancing behind me, I could make out the obelisk shape against the setting sun. I couldn't see any accusing eyes watching me now. A pang of regret, of shame, flickered through me, but I let the flame of the happiness I had stolen from the Memory-Taker push it away. Pushing the incident to the back of my mind, I strode on with only the setting sun, the featureless road, and the gently waving grass around me for company.
The object moved. I jumped back, but it did not pounce or attack me. It simply stretched slowly, and as a face turned up and gazed down at me through the netting I realized the bundle had been a person, hunched over and curled up, in indeterminate brown coverings. His, or maybe her, hands came up to grasp the net on either side of its face as it just looked at me, blinking perhaps once or twice. I tried to steady myself as I addressed it.
"Hello...? I'm sorry, I didn't see you there, um..." The figure just sat there, still and quiet. I waited, unsure what to do next. Finally, it lowered its head so its face was again hidden and extended its fingers feebly through the netting towards me. Uncertain of what to do, I approached the chair, reaching up on my toes until my fingers barely brushed those of the figure in the chair.
I cannot explain to you what I saw next, save to try to describe it as perhaps a library of colors that seemed to come out of nowhere in front of me. Each color was a feeling, or perhaps the feeling was the color, and they all were pictures, moving with sound and context. Needless to say I was both staggered and confused. Then, in an instant, I saw a moment, a quick flash of time, as if I was there. Someone I didn't recognize, yet who was very familiar, was holding me, his (or was it her?) hands rubbing my hair fondly. And I was so happy, so very happy...
The vision faded and I was standing where I had been, fingers not quite touching the bone-thin fingers still poking through the web. Nothing around me had changed, yet that feeling of happiness still stayed with me, strong as it had been, and I couldn't help but smile though I couldn't think of a reason for this sudden feeling of joy. I turned my attention back to the figure, whose face was hidden again from me.
"Wha- What just happened? Did you see that? Did you see anything? What's going on?" I couldn't stop the questions, though I scarcely cared for the answer. I was quite pleased with the situation overall, quite pleased with everything come to think of it. I raised my hands to my head and held it, laughing quietly. The feeling of euphoria was fading a bit now, down into mere happiness, but I still felt like everything around me was just that much brighter and cleaner than it had been before...
"You really don't know? You don't recognize what I am?" A quiet, tired voice spoke to me from the figure still curled in on itself high above me. It took me a moment to realize it had spoken at all. I moved a step back.
"Should I?" I queried. The voice laughed, though it could barely be called a laugh, it was so sad and cynical. What must have been its head raised slightly, just enough for me to see slits of eyes looking at me through the thick net that covered it.
"I'm a Memory-Taker. If you didn't come out here to use me... I see. It's done anyway." The head hid and the figure seemed to withdraw into itself again.
"No, please!" I pleaded, still happy but now dreadfully curious. "Tell me who you are. What you do... I don't understand. Why are you all the way out here? What happened to me?" It took the figure several minutes to respond at all, and when it did, there was more tiredness than cynicism in its voice.
"I'm a Memory-Taker. I take memories and... you take one of mine in return." It unfolded slightly, placing the palms of his (or her) hands on the base of the crude wooden chair and lifting his (or her) head again to look at me, eyes glittering within the shade of nondescript unkempt hair.
"I am out here because I am shameful. I take your worst memories, those you would give anything to forget, and in exchange you take one of my memories to replace it. No one would want to admit to coming to me, but they all do, eventually..." The voice became terribly terribly sad.
"Twenty years. I spent twenty years with everything I could ask for. Everyone loved me. I had everything. And I was happy, almost always happy, and fulfilled, there was nothing I wanted, no-one I hated. At least that's what they tell me.
Then they brought me here. All my life, it had been for this, it seems. I must serve now to repay the years of happiness I had. So I serve. I stay here, and let the rest of you forget. You come and you take and you take." The voice hushed to where I could barely make out what it said next.
"I have so little left..."
I was struck. I did not or could not bear to understand what I was hearing. That happiness that I had had still glowed in my heart like a warm ember, staving off the despair I could sense now from the figure, but it could not dispel it completely.
"How long have you been here?" I whispered. The figure slowly shook her head.
"I don't know. I don't remember." I took several steps back.
"I- I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't-" I tripped over my words as I tried to find the right things to say. The figure raised it's head fully, strands of hair falling away from the face as it faced me fully. Now I could see the gaunt cheekbones, the lined eyes and mouth, the dark black rings around the eyes that were hidden before. Those piercing eyes, I could not tell their age anymore, stared at me hollowly.
"I took your memory, remember? She was your best friend wasn't she? Can you remember what happened to her now?" With a start, I realized who the figure (I still could not make out gender) was talking about. And, with another shock of surprise, I realized I could not, in fact, remember the details of her death. I knew she was dead, my friend from long ago, but I could not remember how, nor how it had made me feel. There was just... a warmth when I thought about it. I hugged my arms around myself. The figure spoke in a whisper once more.
"If you had known... would you have chosen differently?" I couldn't bring myself to look it in the face. I wanted to say yes, that I would never wish the worst of my memories on another person, but... I honestly didn't know if that was true. Before I realized what I was doing I had taken several steps away from the raised chair, and was beginning to walk hastily down the road again. I stared forward, not daring to look back till I had gone a good distance. Finally glancing behind me, I could make out the obelisk shape against the setting sun. I couldn't see any accusing eyes watching me now. A pang of regret, of shame, flickered through me, but I let the flame of the happiness I had stolen from the Memory-Taker push it away. Pushing the incident to the back of my mind, I strode on with only the setting sun, the featureless road, and the gently waving grass around me for company.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Making of Moments
Her mind was clear, for what seemed the first time in ages. Reason and logic seemed obvious now, no mental blocks or emotional cloudiness impeded her view now. No tidal wave engulfed her and overwhelmed her; in fact, she felt she was a mountain, unimpeachable, unable anymore to be moved by such petty emotions as had swept her up and done with her as they willed before. Clarity, she thought. Clarity was what she sensed she might finally have attained, though she did not know how. Somehow, the "how" did not seem to matter so much as the fact of what was right at this instant, this luminous, radiant instant. Now she felt she could see down the ages past and the possibilities of the future, and none seemed insurmountable.
She closed her eyes against the harsh daylight and breathed once in, and once out. Even the breath in her lungs felt new and clean somehow. Yet, even as she marveled at her newfound serenity, she wondered faintly if it would pass, as had all previous seemingly permanent states of mind. If it did, she decided, then it did, and at least it would have existed for this present moment. Transience was a constant in her universe. Permanent transience. Nothing lasted forever. Even a seemingly obvious reality such as this seemed to her to hold untold meaning in this moment.
She attempted to hold that thought, that moment, distill it as if it were a shining liquid into a bottle of memory to store till the next time she felt, as she knew inevitably she would, overwhelmed by the volcano of emotion that was now dormant within her. Yes, she could sense even now the roiling buried seas of agony, ecstasy, anger, tragedy, excitement, hopelessness, and joy that lay writhing under the crust of temporary peace in her soul. All was temporary, and she thought now that perhaps she was glad it was so. Eternal peace would mean nothing if one never knew the alternative. And even now, though she attempted not to let it be so, a seed of hope was indefatigably budding in her heart that perhaps the next time would not come. That perhaps her heart would no longer break or hurt or be crushed. And yet even as she knew this would never be so, she could not quite kill the tiny sapling, but perhaps, she thought, this was for the best. Let hope spring. Maybe it is it's lot to die, to be burned alive in the fire, but for a time it would keep the soul reaching for the light. Reaching for life. And perhaps, she thought to herself as she opened her eyes to the too-bright sun once more, perhaps reaching for life, even just for now, was enough.
Missing of Moments
"Don't you understand?? I hate you! I always have!" She laughed wildly. Pointing in front of her, she stared with too-bright eyes against too-pale skin.
"You never did get it, did you? You never guessed? So stupid. You always were stupid. I could never stand that about you." More crazed laughs. This time, as had been the case so often before, she collapsed in a heap on the blankets she'd been kneeling on. Her face buried in the comforter made her laughs sound more muffled, almost like cries. Her shoulders shook as she shoved her face harder down into the comforter until suddenly she jerked her head up and locked her eyes in front of her.
"Who's laughing now? I always knew you were laughing at me, always knew you pitied me, well what do you think now?! You don't dare face me, do you! Don't dare look at me! Get away!" She screamed the words out, spitting and shrieking like a feral animal. No reaction greeted her words, but she seemed neither to notice nor care.
"This is it, this is the truth isn't it? No more lies or hiding or politeness getting in my way. I'll show you how I am, who I am, what I am! You liar, you horrible liar! I know who you are!!" Her words flew furiously, with the crazed fluency only the insane, very drunk, or very angry are capable of. Again though, only silence greeted her outburst, pressing in on her from every side. For a moment her angry mask cracked, and two tears fell from either red-rimmed eye, but she quickly and angrily covered her face with her clenched fists, throwing her head back down towards the blankets. A muffled scream pushed at the forbidding quiet of the dark room and dwindled again into jerking sounds wrenching their way through tortured vocal cords. When she raised her face once more, her eyes seemed even more bloodshot than they had before.
"Don't do this to me! Answer me! For god's sake, answer me!!" Now the tears did come, and with them the hysterical sounding sobs and wrenching screams of laughter. No-one answered her plea, for there was no-one there to answer it at all. Her tears bounced off the blank wall in front of her, reflecting the darkness of the room around her. In the silence of emptiness her sobs were absorbed, no trace of them reaching beyond her dark room as the silence and darkness that were her only companions enveloped her once more in their consuming comfort.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Meeting of Moments
She began to slow her half-running pace as she hurried through the darkening evening across the well-manicured lawn. Her breath came in sobbing gasps as the green trimmed lawn and sidewalks crossed under her feet, and she brought her wet hands again up to her face to press against her stinging, red eyes. Rubbing at her betraying eyes angrily, she shoved away the tears that just wouldn't stop. Her pace slowed even further as the brick buildings behind her retreated into the not-quite-night and her breath began to slow and return to a hiccuping normal pace. Blinking hard several times, she noticed as she came to a stop that the lights from the buildings behind her were further than she'd expected. She hesitated, as if pondering where to go from here. Not back. That was the only thing she could think. Turning once again away from the signs of civilization behind her, she continued walking forward at a more measured pace than before, only occasionally needing to clear the moisture from her eyes now.
As she walked, her knees shook visibly, but she had her teeth set as if determined not to fall. Whatever energy had pushed her this far had clearly left her now, but she kept moving into the now-dark night towards the treeline she could see in the distance. The grass became wilder and weeds clipped at her stockings as she walked. She gazed forward intently as she went, though it was clear she could see nothing more than a short ways ahead of her. There was nothing to see.
Wait. There. She rubbed her eyes one more time and squinted. A glimmer of light seemed to be coming from the ground a little ways ahead of her and to the right. She moved towards the elusive light. So intent on the sliver of light, she almost bumped headfirst into the wall that suddenly appeared in front of her. Her quivering knees did give at this surprise, and she dropped to the ground. A second look showed that the wall she had bumped into was in fact made of cloth. The side of a tent or some such she guessed. It seemed the sliver of light she'd been following was coming from a flap of some kind. An entrance perhaps?
Distracted from the cacophony of her thoughts, she now noticed music of some kind accompanied by occasional voices coming from the tent. Curious now, she pushed up to hands and knees and crawled towards the flap. Lifting it slightly and poking her head through, the music became suddenly loud and she blinked against the sudden light. Shielding her eyes against the glare she looked around.
The light came from artificial torches in sconces around the tent, which was larger than she'd expected. Crude benches were arrayed in rows across the tent, as if to seat an audience for the wooden stage set up on one end of the tent. The stage was the source of the music; a small folk band was playing happy tunes on strings, accordion, drums and woodwinds. Perhaps a score of people were arrayed in clusters on the benches closest to the stage, laughing and talking. As her eyes surveyed the crowd, her heart suddenly stopped. There, almost right in front of her, was a face she recognized well.
As she stared, the object of her fascination noticed her. His eyes widened and a smile broke out on his face as he recognized her. She suddenly was aware of what a silly picture she must present: head poking through the tent flap at knee height. He didn't seem to notice that as he got up and went to her, pulling her up and onto the bench nearest them.
"Hey you! What are you doing out here?" he questioned, smile growing, as he sat down next to her. She had no words suddenly. Her traitorous eyes suddenly filled, and she found herself crying uncontrollably as she threw her head down onto his lap. Though she couldn't see it, his eyes grew wide with surprise and uncertainty for a moment, before he softened and laid his hand on her head, caressing her hair comfortingly.
"Heeeey... What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked softly. She just lay there in answer, her tears still falling quietly. He continued stroking her hair, looking down at her, seeming content to wait. Moments passed by, the band continued playing their songs, and no one else in the tent seemed to have noticed her arrival nor her present condition. Presently, she slid her arms around his waist and held tight for a minute. Then she let go and sat herself up, sliding her hands over her eyes and keeping her head down.
"I'm- I'm okay. I just- I don't know what happened there, sorry. " He laughed at this.
"Oh, c'mon, nothing to be sorry about." He tousled her hair affectionately, "It's what I do."
She gave a short laugh and grinned, seeming surprised at herself. Nodding, she sniffed and turned towards him, wrapping her arms in a chokehold around his neck. There was an uncomfortable moment where he didn't seem to know what to do with his arms before he cautiously hugged her back. Concern and uncertainty were written across his face. She turned up and finally looked him in the eye.
"I'm okay, really. Thanks." she said, giving him a real smile. The worry vanished from his face and was replaced by a relieved grin. Suddenly, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up into his lap. This act elicited a cry of surprise and a laugh from her and she pulled away from him, still keeping her arms circling his neck.
"Music's good huh?" he commented at her newly heightened position. She laughed again, just now noticing the folk band up front seemed to be playing some Irish reel or jig that most of the other audience members were clapping to.
"Hey, it is good actually. What are you doing out here anyways? I haven't seen you in... well, it's been awhile." she noted, looking more serious. His face broke into another impish grin.
"This is where I live. I sit here and wait for random girls to fall on me. It's not much but it's a living." She burst into laughter again at this, and punched him softly.
"Man, you always did make me laugh! You're an idiot, you know that?" She smiled at him, able to look him almost in the eye. He chuckled back at her and she noticed as his eyes changed slightly. Suddenly, he surprised her by reached back behind her head and pulled her to him, kissing her softly. She stiffened in surprise, but then tightened her hold on him and kissed back.
He held the kiss for what seemed like hours before letting her go. She re-opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them, and looked at him. He looked dazed, but he broke into a tentative smile as she watched. His eyes seemed to be searching for a response from her, so she gave him a huge smile and hugged him tightly. He laughed jubilantly, and pulled her close for another quick, definitive kiss before letting her go completely.
"Really good music, huh?" he commented, grinning madly. She laughed hard, unable to stop smiling and laughing. He laughed again for a moment, and then stood up, grabbing her hands and pulling her up with him. She spun for a moment before he caught her and held her upright.
"C'mon. Let's get you back." He turned towards the flap of the tent, leaving one arm around her shoulders, and gently pulled her towards the entrance. As she was guided back out into the night, all she could hear was the sounds of rollicking music and laughter fading wonderfully into the distance behind her, leaving no room for the now barely-remembered rioting emotions that had brought her here. His warm arms around her, she couldn't help continuing to smile as she stepped back out into the now-welcoming night.
As she walked, her knees shook visibly, but she had her teeth set as if determined not to fall. Whatever energy had pushed her this far had clearly left her now, but she kept moving into the now-dark night towards the treeline she could see in the distance. The grass became wilder and weeds clipped at her stockings as she walked. She gazed forward intently as she went, though it was clear she could see nothing more than a short ways ahead of her. There was nothing to see.
Wait. There. She rubbed her eyes one more time and squinted. A glimmer of light seemed to be coming from the ground a little ways ahead of her and to the right. She moved towards the elusive light. So intent on the sliver of light, she almost bumped headfirst into the wall that suddenly appeared in front of her. Her quivering knees did give at this surprise, and she dropped to the ground. A second look showed that the wall she had bumped into was in fact made of cloth. The side of a tent or some such she guessed. It seemed the sliver of light she'd been following was coming from a flap of some kind. An entrance perhaps?
Distracted from the cacophony of her thoughts, she now noticed music of some kind accompanied by occasional voices coming from the tent. Curious now, she pushed up to hands and knees and crawled towards the flap. Lifting it slightly and poking her head through, the music became suddenly loud and she blinked against the sudden light. Shielding her eyes against the glare she looked around.
The light came from artificial torches in sconces around the tent, which was larger than she'd expected. Crude benches were arrayed in rows across the tent, as if to seat an audience for the wooden stage set up on one end of the tent. The stage was the source of the music; a small folk band was playing happy tunes on strings, accordion, drums and woodwinds. Perhaps a score of people were arrayed in clusters on the benches closest to the stage, laughing and talking. As her eyes surveyed the crowd, her heart suddenly stopped. There, almost right in front of her, was a face she recognized well.
As she stared, the object of her fascination noticed her. His eyes widened and a smile broke out on his face as he recognized her. She suddenly was aware of what a silly picture she must present: head poking through the tent flap at knee height. He didn't seem to notice that as he got up and went to her, pulling her up and onto the bench nearest them.
"Hey you! What are you doing out here?" he questioned, smile growing, as he sat down next to her. She had no words suddenly. Her traitorous eyes suddenly filled, and she found herself crying uncontrollably as she threw her head down onto his lap. Though she couldn't see it, his eyes grew wide with surprise and uncertainty for a moment, before he softened and laid his hand on her head, caressing her hair comfortingly.
"Heeeey... What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked softly. She just lay there in answer, her tears still falling quietly. He continued stroking her hair, looking down at her, seeming content to wait. Moments passed by, the band continued playing their songs, and no one else in the tent seemed to have noticed her arrival nor her present condition. Presently, she slid her arms around his waist and held tight for a minute. Then she let go and sat herself up, sliding her hands over her eyes and keeping her head down.
"I'm- I'm okay. I just- I don't know what happened there, sorry. " He laughed at this.
"Oh, c'mon, nothing to be sorry about." He tousled her hair affectionately, "It's what I do."
She gave a short laugh and grinned, seeming surprised at herself. Nodding, she sniffed and turned towards him, wrapping her arms in a chokehold around his neck. There was an uncomfortable moment where he didn't seem to know what to do with his arms before he cautiously hugged her back. Concern and uncertainty were written across his face. She turned up and finally looked him in the eye.
"I'm okay, really. Thanks." she said, giving him a real smile. The worry vanished from his face and was replaced by a relieved grin. Suddenly, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up into his lap. This act elicited a cry of surprise and a laugh from her and she pulled away from him, still keeping her arms circling his neck.
"Music's good huh?" he commented at her newly heightened position. She laughed again, just now noticing the folk band up front seemed to be playing some Irish reel or jig that most of the other audience members were clapping to.
"Hey, it is good actually. What are you doing out here anyways? I haven't seen you in... well, it's been awhile." she noted, looking more serious. His face broke into another impish grin.
"This is where I live. I sit here and wait for random girls to fall on me. It's not much but it's a living." She burst into laughter again at this, and punched him softly.
"Man, you always did make me laugh! You're an idiot, you know that?" She smiled at him, able to look him almost in the eye. He chuckled back at her and she noticed as his eyes changed slightly. Suddenly, he surprised her by reached back behind her head and pulled her to him, kissing her softly. She stiffened in surprise, but then tightened her hold on him and kissed back.
He held the kiss for what seemed like hours before letting her go. She re-opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them, and looked at him. He looked dazed, but he broke into a tentative smile as she watched. His eyes seemed to be searching for a response from her, so she gave him a huge smile and hugged him tightly. He laughed jubilantly, and pulled her close for another quick, definitive kiss before letting her go completely.
"Really good music, huh?" he commented, grinning madly. She laughed hard, unable to stop smiling and laughing. He laughed again for a moment, and then stood up, grabbing her hands and pulling her up with him. She spun for a moment before he caught her and held her upright.
"C'mon. Let's get you back." He turned towards the flap of the tent, leaving one arm around her shoulders, and gently pulled her towards the entrance. As she was guided back out into the night, all she could hear was the sounds of rollicking music and laughter fading wonderfully into the distance behind her, leaving no room for the now barely-remembered rioting emotions that had brought her here. His warm arms around her, she couldn't help continuing to smile as she stepped back out into the now-welcoming night.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Memorial Day
Status: Owned
Summary: Awesome.
Any weekend that lasts twice as long as normal and in which you stay up till 2 AM playing D&D is win. By default.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
What is it for, really?
I really wish I had time to write again, but I haven't recently. Work has been eating my life. I really could sleep all day and still be tired probably. But enough whining. Things really have been good mostly. The kids are doing well, Aaron's job is going well, my job is going well (albeit crazy at times). I realized last night as I drove home from the movie I went to in Davenport how lovely silence and aloneness can be. To not say a word or even think about anything for even an hour... After being constantly surrounded by people it really is good. And there was rain.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
03/1 - Leaving Behind
Namiri Eversonia stared forward into the falling rain as she rode through it. The dimming light of the overcast dusk made it impossible to tell if the droplets on her face were splashes from the rain or her own tears. There was no sound now but that of the rain falling and hissing on the magical shields over her and her companions' heads as they rode through the trees. The forest they rode through now was green and tall, more verdant than Eversonia could recall having seen outside the gardens of the Nami-land palace. The Nami-land was known for its dry, arid climate, so the gardens were one of the few places the water-callers could keep vegetation from the southerly lands alive. On a day like this, the usual mothers with their children and groups of scholars from the Academy would be missing from the dirt paths that criss-crossed the gardens. Eversonia felt a pang of homesickness again as she remembered watching the people wandering the flowering garden paths from her room high above in the palace. She knew what she was doing was necessary, but she hated to leave her palace and her parents. All this duty, all this responsibility did not stop her from feeling the aching sadness of leaving all that she had ever known or loved, even if she was coming back to it at some point in the future.
A muffled squeak coming from her left caught her ear. Turning, she caught a smaller girl riding next to her struggling to get her legs untangled from the harness straps. Eversonia was used to riding the six-legged Ara-beasts that carried her party, but not all her traveling partners were as skilled in riding the Aras as she. Eversonia let a small smile cross her face as she held out her hand to the girl.
"Verien, please don't fall off. Again." The small blonde-haired girl paused in her struggles just long enough to grab Eversonia's hand and throw her a miffed glare.
"I told you, I didn't fall off the first three times! The Ara threw me! It's true! I hate these things. They always make me fall in the mud." She kicked her Ara in it's chitinous sides. The Ara didn't seem to notice.
"Anyways, Soni, I was okay! I wasn't going to fall! Also, isn't the rain great? We never get this much rain back home! Ooh, it's so cold and wet... How's it getting through the trees anyway? I mean, look at all the branches! All those leaves should..."
Eversonia turned back to her Ara as Verien continued chattering about the rain, the trees, her shoes getting wet, anything that came to mind. As usual. Sonia mourned the loss of the silence, but only for a moment. Silence with Verien around was a precious commodity. Not that she begrudged her best friend her chattiness; in fact, it was one of the things that had drawn her to the small girl in the first place. At the young age of 6, Eversonia's parents, the Namir and Nama, had noticed their daughter was unusually quiet and pensive for her age. Thinking that this was due to her necessary isolation in the palace, they had sought a playmate for her. Even at that age Verien, daughter of a palace hunter, was boisterous and happy. The two bonded immediately, each the perfect match for the other. Eversonia could count on one hand the number of times she had seen Verien frown, and could not remember ever having seen her cry. Now she and Verien went everywhere together, Sonia's parents believing that she would be safer with a companion. So now, even on this venture, Verien was by her side. It gave Eversonia a measure of comfort to remember that she was not truly leaving everything she loved behind.
After all, she thought, with her best friend by her side she would never be truly alone.
A muffled squeak coming from her left caught her ear. Turning, she caught a smaller girl riding next to her struggling to get her legs untangled from the harness straps. Eversonia was used to riding the six-legged Ara-beasts that carried her party, but not all her traveling partners were as skilled in riding the Aras as she. Eversonia let a small smile cross her face as she held out her hand to the girl.
"Verien, please don't fall off. Again." The small blonde-haired girl paused in her struggles just long enough to grab Eversonia's hand and throw her a miffed glare.
"I told you, I didn't fall off the first three times! The Ara threw me! It's true! I hate these things. They always make me fall in the mud." She kicked her Ara in it's chitinous sides. The Ara didn't seem to notice.
"Anyways, Soni, I was okay! I wasn't going to fall! Also, isn't the rain great? We never get this much rain back home! Ooh, it's so cold and wet... How's it getting through the trees anyway? I mean, look at all the branches! All those leaves should..."
Eversonia turned back to her Ara as Verien continued chattering about the rain, the trees, her shoes getting wet, anything that came to mind. As usual. Sonia mourned the loss of the silence, but only for a moment. Silence with Verien around was a precious commodity. Not that she begrudged her best friend her chattiness; in fact, it was one of the things that had drawn her to the small girl in the first place. At the young age of 6, Eversonia's parents, the Namir and Nama, had noticed their daughter was unusually quiet and pensive for her age. Thinking that this was due to her necessary isolation in the palace, they had sought a playmate for her. Even at that age Verien, daughter of a palace hunter, was boisterous and happy. The two bonded immediately, each the perfect match for the other. Eversonia could count on one hand the number of times she had seen Verien frown, and could not remember ever having seen her cry. Now she and Verien went everywhere together, Sonia's parents believing that she would be safer with a companion. So now, even on this venture, Verien was by her side. It gave Eversonia a measure of comfort to remember that she was not truly leaving everything she loved behind.
After all, she thought, with her best friend by her side she would never be truly alone.
Monday, March 30, 2009
On A Different Note...
Taking a break from story-writing. I'm in a bit of a tough spot right now (trying to figure out how much history to reveal), but I have two segments in the works. Here, something for you to analyze.
My dream last night involved me being at work, except that the place I worked was shaped much like an old junior college I used to go to, with a long hall with glass doors on either end and an atrium sort of room in the middle and offices beside it. My office was way down on the far end of the hall. I was working at my computer in my office, which inexplicably had lots of plants and windows and was really nice. I left and drove around for awhile but I knew I'd have to work all night. So, around 3 AM I began the trek down the hall to the office at the OTHER end where I'd have to work. I passed the atrium and discovered that it was turned into a night club/bar late at night. Unfortunately since it was past 2 AM, they were closing down, but they still had music going. I walked through there enjoying the music and dim lighting, and of course it didn't seem odd to me that there were still dozens of people there at work at 3 AM. I ended up in a boring white walled office at the closer end of the building. I worked for a little, but then I was tired. My coworker was also working there, and for some reason there was a bed in my office. We ended up sleeping together, sharing the bed (completely chaste and all that, he's like 50). When I got up I had to go solve a problem for another guy in a different area. As I reached across him to switch something, he grabbed me around the waist. I figured it was all in good fun and I laughed, but he didn't let go. I finally was able to wrestle him off of me and run out the door when I was called away by my coworker to fix a new problem with our project. And then I woke up.
I have NO idea what this means.
My dream last night involved me being at work, except that the place I worked was shaped much like an old junior college I used to go to, with a long hall with glass doors on either end and an atrium sort of room in the middle and offices beside it. My office was way down on the far end of the hall. I was working at my computer in my office, which inexplicably had lots of plants and windows and was really nice. I left and drove around for awhile but I knew I'd have to work all night. So, around 3 AM I began the trek down the hall to the office at the OTHER end where I'd have to work. I passed the atrium and discovered that it was turned into a night club/bar late at night. Unfortunately since it was past 2 AM, they were closing down, but they still had music going. I walked through there enjoying the music and dim lighting, and of course it didn't seem odd to me that there were still dozens of people there at work at 3 AM. I ended up in a boring white walled office at the closer end of the building. I worked for a little, but then I was tired. My coworker was also working there, and for some reason there was a bed in my office. We ended up sleeping together, sharing the bed (completely chaste and all that, he's like 50). When I got up I had to go solve a problem for another guy in a different area. As I reached across him to switch something, he grabbed me around the waist. I figured it was all in good fun and I laughed, but he didn't let go. I finally was able to wrestle him off of me and run out the door when I was called away by my coworker to fix a new problem with our project. And then I woke up.
I have NO idea what this means.
Friday, March 27, 2009
02/2 - History
As Cartak led her swiftly down the stone halls of the training grounds towards the meeting hall, Wren's mind was moving as fast as her feet. Myriad fantastical possibilities poured into her mind, from her being called on to slay a dragon that was threatening the capitol to a long-lost uncle that had come to take her on adventures through the Kren-land to her parents having been mysteriously killed by rogue magic-users that she must now avenge. Practically running with excitement, she almost ran headlong into Cartak when he stopped at the door to the meeting hall. He turned to her and put his dark, wrinkled hands on her shoulders.
"Young Wren. You must remember that this is one of the True Masters. They are not as I am, or even as the Master of this school is. Be sure to show her your deepest respect and honor." Here his eyes narrowed. "Else we shall have a lesson after this meeting that you shall not forget soon."
Wren nodded, furrowing her eyebrows and trying to appear serious and trustworthy. She knew the lore of the True Masters. How they had saved the world from the danger of the Orbs when they threatened to destroy the Four Lands. How they had led the Lands with wise hands even across the great distances that now separated them. And now one of them wished to see her. She grinned as she followed Cartak into the meeting hall.
"Young Wren. You must remember that this is one of the True Masters. They are not as I am, or even as the Master of this school is. Be sure to show her your deepest respect and honor." Here his eyes narrowed. "Else we shall have a lesson after this meeting that you shall not forget soon."
Wren nodded, furrowing her eyebrows and trying to appear serious and trustworthy. She knew the lore of the True Masters. How they had saved the world from the danger of the Orbs when they threatened to destroy the Four Lands. How they had led the Lands with wise hands even across the great distances that now separated them. And now one of them wished to see her. She grinned as she followed Cartak into the meeting hall.
The meeting hall was much like the rest of the indoor portion of the training grounds: windowless stone walled rooms with periodic torches lighting the area and only a set of benches lining the walls as furnishing. Much of the training grounds was outdoors, open to the sky. Even the trainees' sleeping areas were located outside much of the time (save when weather threatened the students' health). The Masters of the academy believed that Wren and the other trainees needed to be prepared for the realities of life outside the academy, where their combat skills would be put to use as guards or warriors in the militia of the Kren-land. Thus they trained and slept as they would in such situations, with few comforts save those they created for themselves. Though this kind of training might have seemed hard to some others of Wren's young age, to her and her fellow students it was the best way to live. They shared a camaraderie rarely found in those of their age, and a confidence in their skills rarely found in those twice their age.
Standing in the center of the room was a tall, gray-robed elderly woman and a shorter, younger woman wearing obviously expensive yet (Wren surmised) functional traveling garb. She glanced quickly at Cartak as he bowed low to the figure in grey and did the same. This must be the True Master, she thought. Not quite what she was expecting. As Wren's green eyes met the woman's serious gray ones, they both looked each other unflinchingly in the face. After a moment, the woman graced Wren with a small smile.
"Student Wren. We are True Master Bur." At this she paused, seemingly awaiting Wren's response. Wren blinked, not sure what was expected of her, before settling on a "Good to meet you."
"And you. We regret that you must leave the academy for a time. We have need of you." Wren's heart jumped. She knew it! There must be some great mission that only she could complete and save the world! Wren managed to keep her face straight and her expression serious as she nodded her understanding.
"We realize that you must have been taught our history, but permit me to reiterate some of it. Beyond the earliest history of the Four Lands, the Orbs were created. There were four of them, each, as we are told, only as large as would fit in your two hands, and each of a different color. They were each linked to the others, and through that link enabled transport between each other. We know that you do not study magic here, so we do not expect you to understand, but magic is a primal force drawn from the ambient environment all around us. The affinity required to channel and shape that force is innate to some, but is limited by their mental and magical discipline and focus. Transport from one location to another then takes a great amount of discipline; more than most mages possess. Thus, the orbs revolutionized trade and exploration when it was discovered that the magical network between them made transport of people and even objects between any two over almost any distance a relatively simple magical task. You may not be able to imagine travel without days of walking or riding, but it is true that hundreds of years past it was common to travel between the Kren-land and the Sur-land in no more time than it would take you to travel from here to your quarters!"
The True Master paused to let this image sink in. Wren was not as impressed as she thought the True Master was expecting. Admittedly, she hadn't heard a lot of this before, not particularly caring to pay attention in her History classes, but it didn't come close to the fantastical tales that she imagined daily as she trained. She did vaguely remember hearing about the Orbs before. Were they what this was all about, she wondered? And if so, what did this history lesson have to do with her? The True Master continued.
"The Four Lands were established then as the orbs allowed transport and trade to flourish across distances previously unexplored. However, after many years of use, there was an accident. That was when the first True Masters saved the Lands from destruction and performed the Severing. The Severing destroyed the magical network between the Orbs and the Orbs themselves. The Four Lands became in a moment isolated from each other. In the turmoil that followed, only the wisdom of the True Masters kept the Four Lands from civil war. We all owe much to those first True Masters, and all those that have followed them!"
During this last speech True Master Bur's voice had grown more impassioned and her eyes gleamed as they looked off into the distance. Even Wren could not help but feel a pang of patriotism at the fervor in her voice. As Bur finished her statement, she lowered her eyes to stare intensely into Wren's face.
"No memorial stands to these historic events save that in our memories. This has been the case for far too long. We seek to honor the memory of those that preserved our way of life in a more tangible manner now. You are almost prepared to begin work outside the academy, are you not?" At this Bur looked at Cartak, who lifted his bowed head long enough to give a small nod. Bur turned her attention back to Wren. "Then let this be your first assignment, young Wren. You will accompany a surveying group as they seek out the locations of the Orbs before the Severing and erect monuments to the events which happened there. "
Wren tried to keep her expression serious and not let her disappointment show through. Her first mission ever and it was to escort some bureaucrats. Great. She squared her shoulders a bit more. This was important enough that a True Master chose me in particular to guide them and came all the way out here to tell me. That's gotta mean something. Wren brought her attention back to the True Master in time to hear her finish her statements, now directed as Cartak.
"... your academy. You have our assurance that Wren's services are necessary for this mission. She shall be returned here once the journey is complete." Master Cartak, his eyes sincere, bowed once more to the True Master.
"It is my honor to serve the True Masters and the Four Lands." Cartak shot Wren a sharp look. She hastily followed his bow with one of her own.
"It is my honor to serve the True Masters and the Four Lands." she repeated. Bur inclined her head once more to them and then turned away, clearly signaling the meeting was over. Cartak laid his hand on Wren's shoulder and walked her quickly out of the meeting hall. She threw a glance backwards as he did, catching just a glimpse of the True Master conversing quietly with her companion. As they left the room, Wren could feel some of the tension leave Cartak's posture. He slowed to a stop in the hallway and turned to face Wren. His face crinkled into a smile.
"Well done, Wren. You may yet do your academy honor." She grinned back at him. Cartak's approval meant much more to her than anything the True Master had said. Cartak's expression turned earnest again. "You must prepare yourself now. The True Master and her escort leave tomorrow. Remember, you represent myself and all your comrades here in this mission. Perform it well, and you will bring us all honor. I have every faith in you, young one." He laid an affectionate hand on her fiery hair, which already looked wild again despite the thorough brushing earlier. Wren gazed intently back at him.
"I won't disappoint you, Master." Cartak nodded shortly.
"I know you will not. Now go. We have much to do before the morrow." Wren bowed shortly to him in farewell and ran off down the hallway. As she ran, she found herself grinning fiercely. Sure, maybe this wasn't the most glorious mission ever; there were no dragons to be slain and no imminent danger threatening the Lands. But it was her first mission! Without slowing as she skidded around a corner, she mentally yelled a challenge to the whole of the Four Lands.
Bring on your worst! I'm ready for you!
The True Master paused to let this image sink in. Wren was not as impressed as she thought the True Master was expecting. Admittedly, she hadn't heard a lot of this before, not particularly caring to pay attention in her History classes, but it didn't come close to the fantastical tales that she imagined daily as she trained. She did vaguely remember hearing about the Orbs before. Were they what this was all about, she wondered? And if so, what did this history lesson have to do with her? The True Master continued.
"The Four Lands were established then as the orbs allowed transport and trade to flourish across distances previously unexplored. However, after many years of use, there was an accident. That was when the first True Masters saved the Lands from destruction and performed the Severing. The Severing destroyed the magical network between the Orbs and the Orbs themselves. The Four Lands became in a moment isolated from each other. In the turmoil that followed, only the wisdom of the True Masters kept the Four Lands from civil war. We all owe much to those first True Masters, and all those that have followed them!"
During this last speech True Master Bur's voice had grown more impassioned and her eyes gleamed as they looked off into the distance. Even Wren could not help but feel a pang of patriotism at the fervor in her voice. As Bur finished her statement, she lowered her eyes to stare intensely into Wren's face.
"No memorial stands to these historic events save that in our memories. This has been the case for far too long. We seek to honor the memory of those that preserved our way of life in a more tangible manner now. You are almost prepared to begin work outside the academy, are you not?" At this Bur looked at Cartak, who lifted his bowed head long enough to give a small nod. Bur turned her attention back to Wren. "Then let this be your first assignment, young Wren. You will accompany a surveying group as they seek out the locations of the Orbs before the Severing and erect monuments to the events which happened there. "
Wren tried to keep her expression serious and not let her disappointment show through. Her first mission ever and it was to escort some bureaucrats. Great. She squared her shoulders a bit more. This was important enough that a True Master chose me in particular to guide them and came all the way out here to tell me. That's gotta mean something. Wren brought her attention back to the True Master in time to hear her finish her statements, now directed as Cartak.
"... your academy. You have our assurance that Wren's services are necessary for this mission. She shall be returned here once the journey is complete." Master Cartak, his eyes sincere, bowed once more to the True Master.
"It is my honor to serve the True Masters and the Four Lands." Cartak shot Wren a sharp look. She hastily followed his bow with one of her own.
"It is my honor to serve the True Masters and the Four Lands." she repeated. Bur inclined her head once more to them and then turned away, clearly signaling the meeting was over. Cartak laid his hand on Wren's shoulder and walked her quickly out of the meeting hall. She threw a glance backwards as he did, catching just a glimpse of the True Master conversing quietly with her companion. As they left the room, Wren could feel some of the tension leave Cartak's posture. He slowed to a stop in the hallway and turned to face Wren. His face crinkled into a smile.
"Well done, Wren. You may yet do your academy honor." She grinned back at him. Cartak's approval meant much more to her than anything the True Master had said. Cartak's expression turned earnest again. "You must prepare yourself now. The True Master and her escort leave tomorrow. Remember, you represent myself and all your comrades here in this mission. Perform it well, and you will bring us all honor. I have every faith in you, young one." He laid an affectionate hand on her fiery hair, which already looked wild again despite the thorough brushing earlier. Wren gazed intently back at him.
"I won't disappoint you, Master." Cartak nodded shortly.
"I know you will not. Now go. We have much to do before the morrow." Wren bowed shortly to him in farewell and ran off down the hallway. As she ran, she found herself grinning fiercely. Sure, maybe this wasn't the most glorious mission ever; there were no dragons to be slain and no imminent danger threatening the Lands. But it was her first mission! Without slowing as she skidded around a corner, she mentally yelled a challenge to the whole of the Four Lands.
Bring on your worst! I'm ready for you!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
(emo warning)
Am I the architect of madness? Or just a bystander perhaps to the chaos ripping loose in front of me.
Tell me where you are, tell me what you see, because I cannot make out the colors anymore. The center of only my own universe, I see you spin around me.
Do you see me?
Predators feed on carrion imagined or perhaps not, I cannot tell, I see through their bloodstained eyes and see from a distance.
Where are you? Did I imagine you too?
Your reality is tainted by my existence. Yet like a bloated ego I press further into dimensions not mine to manipulate. Do even you know who I am anymore?
Is all this in my mind? The window is painted, I cannot see through it. What painting is on your side?
Are you even there? Why?
What have I done to you?
Tell me where you are, tell me what you see, because I cannot make out the colors anymore. The center of only my own universe, I see you spin around me.
Do you see me?
Predators feed on carrion imagined or perhaps not, I cannot tell, I see through their bloodstained eyes and see from a distance.
Where are you? Did I imagine you too?
Your reality is tainted by my existence. Yet like a bloated ego I press further into dimensions not mine to manipulate. Do even you know who I am anymore?
Is all this in my mind? The window is painted, I cannot see through it. What painting is on your side?
Are you even there? Why?
What have I done to you?
Thursday, March 12, 2009
01/3 - Musings
Alyra lay with her hands behind her head at the cave mouth, looking up at the overcast sky. A warm fur separated her from the cold stone floor and the chill late-winter winds that occasionally gusted into the cave. As she listened to the patter of the rain on the stone, she idly wondered if her assistant had gotten anywhere with the day's grading but decided against Seeking him to find out. Alyra held very strong views on invasion of privacy by magical means, views she tried to instill in all of her students. Magic held so much potential for abuse, she mused; more perhaps even than the potential it held for good. She had seen both in her lifetime. Once the True Masters, the rulers of the five lands, had been masters in more than just name. They were the foremost masters of magic in the lands, brought together to govern the chaos that ensued after the Severing. Thought to be the best equipped to save the world from a danger that was magical by nature, the four first True Masters had done just that. But, Alyra pondered, at what price had security been bought? The harsh restrictions on any public displays of magic outside Academy walls alone had nearly halted the once-rapid growth of understanding of magic. Arbiters walked the streets of the townships at all hours now, free to do as they saw fit to keep the fragile peace. Even now, over three centuries later, the laws laid down in magic and writing by the first True Masters were viewed as gospel. And even though the True Masters of the past generations had had no magical talent, they were still held in awe by the majority of the population. Alyra's mouth twitched in a sarcastic smile. They would not be allowed to become True Masters had they an inkling of magic. The distrust of magic-users ran too deep these days. Perhaps it was best that children who showed magical leanings were still taken from their parents too young to remember they had any and raised at the Academies. At least a few had escaped the mindless prejudices of their ancestors.
Alyra sat up stiffly, wishing now that she'd brought something thicker than a fur cape to lie on. The rain was still going, a steady downpour that boded well for the upcoming spring. She murmured softly, and a dome of light appeared over her head as she stepped out of the cave into the softly falling rain. As the drops touched the dome they gave off a soft hiss, and a steady sheen of steam began rising from the shining barrier. She hugged her dry cape around her a little closer and began the trek back to the Academy, her glowing umbrella following over her head.
Arriving back at the entrance hall of the Academy, Alyra shed her cape into the waiting arms of a servant who whisked it off for cleaning. The darkening sky outside told her the day was almost over; she must have missed the evening meal. Ah well, she thought, I can always retrieve something from the kitchens. Her course set, she had hardly begun to walk down the east hallway before she was accosted by her assistant, looking more nervous than ever.
"Mistress Darkshine! Thank the gods you're here! It's - there's - you've been summoned! By a True Master!" The assistant's eyes were huge as he stumbled over his words. Alyra felt a stab of shock. A True Master at one of the Academies? Everyone knew they only tolerated the Academies because it kept the magic-users out of the way and out of trouble. Her eyes flickered but she quickly regained her composure.
"Show me to the True Master then." The assistant stared for a moment more, then turned and began to almost run down the hallway. He led her to the largest meeting hall in the Academy and pointed dumbly to the door. Alyra nodded at him reassuringly.
"Thank you for your assistance." The assistant took this as his dismissal and hurried away, leaving her staring at the large wooden doors. Gathering herself and composing her features one last time, she pushed the doors open.
Arriving back at the entrance hall of the Academy, Alyra shed her cape into the waiting arms of a servant who whisked it off for cleaning. The darkening sky outside told her the day was almost over; she must have missed the evening meal. Ah well, she thought, I can always retrieve something from the kitchens. Her course set, she had hardly begun to walk down the east hallway before she was accosted by her assistant, looking more nervous than ever.
"Mistress Darkshine! Thank the gods you're here! It's - there's - you've been summoned! By a True Master!" The assistant's eyes were huge as he stumbled over his words. Alyra felt a stab of shock. A True Master at one of the Academies? Everyone knew they only tolerated the Academies because it kept the magic-users out of the way and out of trouble. Her eyes flickered but she quickly regained her composure.
"Show me to the True Master then." The assistant stared for a moment more, then turned and began to almost run down the hallway. He led her to the largest meeting hall in the Academy and pointed dumbly to the door. Alyra nodded at him reassuringly.
"Thank you for your assistance." The assistant took this as his dismissal and hurried away, leaving her staring at the large wooden doors. Gathering herself and composing her features one last time, she pushed the doors open.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
02/1 - Pike Problems
Wren's pike ricocheted off the armor with a metallic ringing sound. She paused in her attack, momentarily dazed. The wooden training dummy seemed unfazed by her brutal rush. Using her pike now as a prop to steady herself, she glared at the dummy. The dummy's blank face stared challengingly back at her, clearly taunting her feeble blows.
"So that's how it's going to be, huh?" She readied her pike again. Yelling a fierce "Have at you!", she charged again. The point of the pike bounced up and down with her steps until CLANG! It bounced harmlessly off the dummy's breastplate and slid to the right. The sudden twist of the weapon caught Wren off guard, spinning her sideways as she tripped over her own feet. She hit the mulched bark floor hard, her breath whooshing out as her head slammed into the ground.
As the buzzing in her ears cleared, Wren thought she could hear a clapping sound in the distance. She sat up groaning and peered around. As she blearily stared at the figure standing on the sidelines, she groaned again and flopped back down on the ground as recognition set in.
"Master Cartak..."
Cartak slowly stopped his mocking applause and began to walk towards the fallen Wren.
"Young Wren. You appear to have been defeated." Cartak's eyes crinkled in hidden amusement as Wren moaned again. She clumsily got to her feet and began brushing the dirt and bark off her backside.
"Are you injured?"
Wren winced a little as she met Cartak's gaze. "No, master. Well, actually, I think I might have bitten my tongue."
Cartak did laugh at this. He tousled Wren's already disheveled fiery hair.
"That may in fact be an improvement." Wren glared at him, her short, slight figure seeming even shorter next to Cartak's tall, muscular build. He gestured to her as he turned towards the training area entrance.
"Come, young one. You must get yourself into a presentable state. One of the True Masters is here to see you."
Wren's amber eyes boggled. "A True Master?", she thought incredulously. Her mind pondered the significance of the words. For a moment, following Cartak, she thought of being nervous. Then she scoffed. She didn't believe those child's tales about the True Masters' supposed god-like powers anymore. Besides, what quarrel had they with her? She was nothing more than a school girl who wasn't interested in school.
Shaking her head to clear the last of her trepidation, she trotted obediently after Master Cartak as he led her back to her rooms. After seeing her safely there, he waited at her door as she hurriedly changed into her dress uniform and brushed out her hair. Her mind kept buzzing in circles between excitement at meeting a True Master and confusion over what they wanted with her. As she rushed back out her door, Master Cartak quickly looked her over and nodded. She automatically followed his lead, unable to shake the nagging feeling of impending doom as they began the long walk to the meeting hall.
"So that's how it's going to be, huh?" She readied her pike again. Yelling a fierce "Have at you!", she charged again. The point of the pike bounced up and down with her steps until CLANG! It bounced harmlessly off the dummy's breastplate and slid to the right. The sudden twist of the weapon caught Wren off guard, spinning her sideways as she tripped over her own feet. She hit the mulched bark floor hard, her breath whooshing out as her head slammed into the ground.
As the buzzing in her ears cleared, Wren thought she could hear a clapping sound in the distance. She sat up groaning and peered around. As she blearily stared at the figure standing on the sidelines, she groaned again and flopped back down on the ground as recognition set in.
"Master Cartak..."
Cartak slowly stopped his mocking applause and began to walk towards the fallen Wren.
"Young Wren. You appear to have been defeated." Cartak's eyes crinkled in hidden amusement as Wren moaned again. She clumsily got to her feet and began brushing the dirt and bark off her backside.
"Are you injured?"
Wren winced a little as she met Cartak's gaze. "No, master. Well, actually, I think I might have bitten my tongue."
Cartak did laugh at this. He tousled Wren's already disheveled fiery hair.
"That may in fact be an improvement." Wren glared at him, her short, slight figure seeming even shorter next to Cartak's tall, muscular build. He gestured to her as he turned towards the training area entrance.
"Come, young one. You must get yourself into a presentable state. One of the True Masters is here to see you."
Wren's amber eyes boggled. "A True Master?", she thought incredulously. Her mind pondered the significance of the words. For a moment, following Cartak, she thought of being nervous. Then she scoffed. She didn't believe those child's tales about the True Masters' supposed god-like powers anymore. Besides, what quarrel had they with her? She was nothing more than a school girl who wasn't interested in school.
Shaking her head to clear the last of her trepidation, she trotted obediently after Master Cartak as he led her back to her rooms. After seeing her safely there, he waited at her door as she hurriedly changed into her dress uniform and brushed out her hair. Her mind kept buzzing in circles between excitement at meeting a True Master and confusion over what they wanted with her. As she rushed back out her door, Master Cartak quickly looked her over and nodded. She automatically followed his lead, unable to shake the nagging feeling of impending doom as they began the long walk to the meeting hall.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
01/2 - World's Light
Alyra Darkshine sat down gracefully in her wooden chair at the front of the class as the students began their Seeking. All of them were slightly in awe of her, and it was not hard to see why. Her face had an ageless quality to it, and her bright indigo eyes contrasted sharply against her black hair and shimmering silver/grey robes she customarily wore. She was tall when she stood, slender and graceful, and she had never been known to raise her musical voice. In fact, many of the students whispered that she had no emotions at all, but not a one would dare say anything like that to her face. Half the students were scared and the other half in awe of her, but nobody could deny she was the most effective Seeker teacher at the academy.
To the class she looked still, her robed form silently watching them, but in truth her mind was far away from the classroom. Her thoughts led her to the familiar old ways in the rocky crags outside the walls of the Academy, where she spent much of her time these past few months. Stormclouds were moving in towards the cave in the cliffside that she Located. It would rain in a few hours. Though her serene expression did not change, she smiled internally. She loved the rain, especially the sound it made on the roof of her cave.
A tap on her desk caused her to return her mind fully to the present. Students were beginning to file past her desk dropping off their reports on today's exercise. She coolly watched each young learner finish and leave their work in front of her. As the last stragglers wandered up, she stood and faced the assembled students.
"Well done. I expect your independent Seeking reports in two days. World's Light."
The students chorused the familiar dismissal back to her and began to leave the room. As her assistant collected the parchments from her desk she gave them a cursory look. Several people had chosen to draw the locations they saw, and the accuracy of several impressed her. This was a promising class. She nodded to her assistant as he gathered the last of them and scurried out of the room, no doubt to spend the next few hours examining the students' work. She had other plans for her evening; those stormclouds were calling the siren song of raindrops to her. She allowed herself a smile as she left the classroom and headed down the hallway that led to the exit to the Academy.
To the class she looked still, her robed form silently watching them, but in truth her mind was far away from the classroom. Her thoughts led her to the familiar old ways in the rocky crags outside the walls of the Academy, where she spent much of her time these past few months. Stormclouds were moving in towards the cave in the cliffside that she Located. It would rain in a few hours. Though her serene expression did not change, she smiled internally. She loved the rain, especially the sound it made on the roof of her cave.
A tap on her desk caused her to return her mind fully to the present. Students were beginning to file past her desk dropping off their reports on today's exercise. She coolly watched each young learner finish and leave their work in front of her. As the last stragglers wandered up, she stood and faced the assembled students.
"Well done. I expect your independent Seeking reports in two days. World's Light."
The students chorused the familiar dismissal back to her and began to leave the room. As her assistant collected the parchments from her desk she gave them a cursory look. Several people had chosen to draw the locations they saw, and the accuracy of several impressed her. This was a promising class. She nodded to her assistant as he gathered the last of them and scurried out of the room, no doubt to spend the next few hours examining the students' work. She had other plans for her evening; those stormclouds were calling the siren song of raindrops to her. She allowed herself a smile as she left the classroom and headed down the hallway that led to the exit to the Academy.
01/1 - Clarity
[Author's note: I've wanted to write a story, so I thought, who better to write about than me? No, it isn't really me, but it's who I was once. I'll leave you to puzzle that out. ^_^ This story hasn't been told in years, I think it's time it was retold.]
Closing her eyes, she visualized the tiny marbles in her mind. There, one over on the rug, another under the wardrobe, two more on the floor. She imagined them rising from the floor to gather above the desk in front of her. She pictured them beginning to spin in the air around each other, now shifting colors between each other; red, then green, then yellow, then blue. Eyes still shut, she smiled, enjoying the sight of the spinning glowing marbles.
A knock on the door broke her concentration. Opening her eyes and catching the marbles that dropped into her hand as she stopped focusing on them, she turned her attention to the intricate web of crystals in her window. "That time already?" she thought, surprised, as she hurriedly stuffed the marbles into the pocket of her robe. Jumping to her feet, she swiftly walked to the door, opening it to find a nervous looking assistant standing outside it. He began to speak, but she brushed past him quickly and marched down the long hallway. Sun slid through the open archways in the sides of the hall as she passed by several doorways, finally stopping at one on her left. She took a moment before entering to catch her breath and smooth her hair and robe. The nervous assistant fellow finally caught up with her as she did, and stood panting a little ways behind her. Now appearing as sedate as the moon, she opened the door in front of her and entered the room.
The room was smallish, surrounded by the undecorated shaped-wood walls common to the whole facility. Four long tables outfitted with wooden chairs occupied the majority of the room's space, most of which was currently occupied by young people gathered into groups, talking in hushed voices. The talking faded as the robed woman strode confidently into the room and stood facing the tables, watching the students file obediently into their chairs. The woman waited till they were all seated before she began to speak.
"As you are aware by this point in your studies, an important aspect of Seeking is the ability to describe where the Found is. It does not matter if you can Locate if you cannot tell another how to retrieve the Found. For this, one needs both the ability to Locate and the ability to communicate precisely and clearly. Clarity is key. Clarity of focus is needed to determine details about the location of the Found. Clarity of awareness is needed to map the path between yourself and the Found. Clarity of expression is needed to communicate your knowledge."
The woman halted her speech for a moment, waiting for the sound of skritching writing implements to die down before she began again.
"Today I wish you all to improve your clarity." She reached into her robe pocket and brought out the four marbles she had been playing with earlier.
"You will practice on these. Each will be sent to a different location throughout this wing. Each of you will then be paired with another, and will be responsible for describing to the other the location of each marble. At the end of the exercise your partner must be able to correctly define the location of the Founds. You may use whatever means you see fit; writing the location, drawing a portrait, even speaking aloud, however the non-Seeking partner must not use their abilities in any way during this exercise."
She motioned to her assistant to begin the pairing of students. Once he returned to her side she looked momentarily at the marbles in her hand. They all vanished.
"You may begin."
Closing her eyes, she visualized the tiny marbles in her mind. There, one over on the rug, another under the wardrobe, two more on the floor. She imagined them rising from the floor to gather above the desk in front of her. She pictured them beginning to spin in the air around each other, now shifting colors between each other; red, then green, then yellow, then blue. Eyes still shut, she smiled, enjoying the sight of the spinning glowing marbles.
A knock on the door broke her concentration. Opening her eyes and catching the marbles that dropped into her hand as she stopped focusing on them, she turned her attention to the intricate web of crystals in her window. "That time already?" she thought, surprised, as she hurriedly stuffed the marbles into the pocket of her robe. Jumping to her feet, she swiftly walked to the door, opening it to find a nervous looking assistant standing outside it. He began to speak, but she brushed past him quickly and marched down the long hallway. Sun slid through the open archways in the sides of the hall as she passed by several doorways, finally stopping at one on her left. She took a moment before entering to catch her breath and smooth her hair and robe. The nervous assistant fellow finally caught up with her as she did, and stood panting a little ways behind her. Now appearing as sedate as the moon, she opened the door in front of her and entered the room.
The room was smallish, surrounded by the undecorated shaped-wood walls common to the whole facility. Four long tables outfitted with wooden chairs occupied the majority of the room's space, most of which was currently occupied by young people gathered into groups, talking in hushed voices. The talking faded as the robed woman strode confidently into the room and stood facing the tables, watching the students file obediently into their chairs. The woman waited till they were all seated before she began to speak.
"As you are aware by this point in your studies, an important aspect of Seeking is the ability to describe where the Found is. It does not matter if you can Locate if you cannot tell another how to retrieve the Found. For this, one needs both the ability to Locate and the ability to communicate precisely and clearly. Clarity is key. Clarity of focus is needed to determine details about the location of the Found. Clarity of awareness is needed to map the path between yourself and the Found. Clarity of expression is needed to communicate your knowledge."
The woman halted her speech for a moment, waiting for the sound of skritching writing implements to die down before she began again.
"Today I wish you all to improve your clarity." She reached into her robe pocket and brought out the four marbles she had been playing with earlier.
"You will practice on these. Each will be sent to a different location throughout this wing. Each of you will then be paired with another, and will be responsible for describing to the other the location of each marble. At the end of the exercise your partner must be able to correctly define the location of the Founds. You may use whatever means you see fit; writing the location, drawing a portrait, even speaking aloud, however the non-Seeking partner must not use their abilities in any way during this exercise."
She motioned to her assistant to begin the pairing of students. Once he returned to her side she looked momentarily at the marbles in her hand. They all vanished.
"You may begin."
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Spectrum
So what does one do when one can't sleep? Maybe write. Write perhaps about what's on the mind, what is keeping one awake, what thoughts cross in the ungodly hours. I've taken to fiction or metaphorical vignettes when I've written before, but perhaps this once I will digress and speak as myself, not through the stark text of another's imagined brain.
The spectrum of people. So much like the spectrum of colors. None would say that the red is more pleasing than the green, or the indigo inherently more likeable than the yellow. We all seem to have different tastes, different preferences that are unrelated to good, bad, right, wrong, or any other supposedly innate consciousness. Thus we all are measured on the multidimensional slide rule of definition. Are we small? Tall? Nearsighted? Slow to speak? Spontaneous? Outgoing? Gullible? Graceful? Everyone can be drawn and fitted to some unknowably large number of factors. In the end we are all definable.
Judge us then on the strength or weakness of our numbers. I am too short, too quick, too large, too clumsy, too introverted, too sad, too cautious, too spontaneous, too talkative... any number of unsatisfactory numbers. Unsatisfactory to whom? Who sets the measure? Perhaps we can only know the precise number we are set to. All others, and their ramifications, remain a mystery to us that we try to solve by watching others along the measure, near and far from us. Observing all those others with whom we share the solution space of humanity, most particularly those whom we keep near to us, and to a lesser degree those we reject most vehemently.
So what makes one choose one person over another? How do the different aspects interact with each other? Does the cautious person seek to be with another cautious one due to their shared similarity in that regard? Or does he seek out the reckless one, curious about the other side of the balance? And if so, can the aspects they share serve as a binding reagent to the polarity of their differences? How much choice is really involved in the decision to associate? Can anyone, even those involved, be qualified to discern the true value to be gained or lost in that union?
But then, I suppose you don't have to defend what you like.
The spectrum of people. So much like the spectrum of colors. None would say that the red is more pleasing than the green, or the indigo inherently more likeable than the yellow. We all seem to have different tastes, different preferences that are unrelated to good, bad, right, wrong, or any other supposedly innate consciousness. Thus we all are measured on the multidimensional slide rule of definition. Are we small? Tall? Nearsighted? Slow to speak? Spontaneous? Outgoing? Gullible? Graceful? Everyone can be drawn and fitted to some unknowably large number of factors. In the end we are all definable.
Judge us then on the strength or weakness of our numbers. I am too short, too quick, too large, too clumsy, too introverted, too sad, too cautious, too spontaneous, too talkative... any number of unsatisfactory numbers. Unsatisfactory to whom? Who sets the measure? Perhaps we can only know the precise number we are set to. All others, and their ramifications, remain a mystery to us that we try to solve by watching others along the measure, near and far from us. Observing all those others with whom we share the solution space of humanity, most particularly those whom we keep near to us, and to a lesser degree those we reject most vehemently.
So what makes one choose one person over another? How do the different aspects interact with each other? Does the cautious person seek to be with another cautious one due to their shared similarity in that regard? Or does he seek out the reckless one, curious about the other side of the balance? And if so, can the aspects they share serve as a binding reagent to the polarity of their differences? How much choice is really involved in the decision to associate? Can anyone, even those involved, be qualified to discern the true value to be gained or lost in that union?
But then, I suppose you don't have to defend what you like.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Never Let Go
I can't understand it.
The search for an answer is met with a darker day.
And we've been handed these moments forever.
But I'm reassured there's another way.
You don't have to close your eyes.
There is room for love again.
Ease the pain to realize
All that love can be.
Forced apart by time and sand.
Take a step and take my hand.
And don't let it go.
Never let go.
Broken, once connected,
We were so strong and so blessed in a simple way.
So don't let me go it alone.
Turn your head up to the sky.
Nothing down below but me.
Face the truth to realize
All that we could be.
Torn apart by rage and fear.
Hold onto what brought you here.
Don't let it go.
Never let go.
Turn your head up to the sky.
Nothing down below.
Don't let go.
The search for an answer is met with a darker day.
And we've been handed these moments forever.
But I'm reassured there's another way.
You don't have to close your eyes.
There is room for love again.
Ease the pain to realize
All that love can be.
Forced apart by time and sand.
Take a step and take my hand.
And don't let it go.
Never let go.
Broken, once connected,
We were so strong and so blessed in a simple way.
So don't let me go it alone.
Turn your head up to the sky.
Nothing down below but me.
Face the truth to realize
All that we could be.
Torn apart by rage and fear.
Hold onto what brought you here.
Don't let it go.
Never let go.
Turn your head up to the sky.
Nothing down below.
Don't let go.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Run
He ran. The darkness in front of him receded quickly approaching the flickering streetlight. The muffled sounds of his feet pounding into the ground echoed deafeningly through the rush of his heartbeat on his eardrums. The streetlight flashed brilliantly against his dark-adjusted eyes and vanished behind him, leaving his retinas flashburned and unable to see the next stretch of roadway.
Listen... Listen...
He blinked and stumbled, his eyes beginning to readjust to the blackness. Turn left here! His shoes slipped and skidded as he veered around a corner, almost falling on the slippery ice that still clung to the curb. He threw a glance from the corner of his eye down the road he'd just come down, but he could make nothing out aside from the glaring light of the streetlamp.
I hear the sound of a heart from the shadow in the dark, waiting for the poison to hit its mark...
The pain in his side lanced up further into his ribs. His steps faltered as he tried to draw a stabbing breath. Clutching his side tightly, he gritted his teeth and pushed his legs even faster than before. His vision narrowed to the pavement ten feet ahead of him and focused. Keep moving, gotta keep moving.
I see the darkness around, the shape on the ground, the killer straight up and the body facedown...
Another streetlight flashed by overhead. A screaming sound broke through his focus. It took him a moment to recognize it as the distant siren of a police car. In that second of broken concentration his feet hit a crack in the pavement. His head hit the ground with a crack! as his body threw itself forward and down.
I hear the death of a scream, the sorrowing stream, the smell of farewell and gasoline...
His initial cry was cut short as he bit down on his tongue. For an interminable moment everything halted but the rushing in his ears. Then he gasped in a breath. Suddenly he could taste the blood in his mouth, feel the shattering pain running through his head. He lay there on the ground for a moment. Trying to hear through the haze of pain and the sound of his own panting breath, he strained to make out the sound of footsteps from behind him.
I see a heart set free by a legacy, hear a voice from the shadow that is beckoning me...
His muscles screamed as he shoved himself up and off the ground. The first few running steps he took awkwardly, body strained to the limit and showing. Slowly his balance returned and he kept running, weaving back and forth across the road. As the quiet darkness of the night reclaimed the broken silence, only a patch of blood shining on the ground and the fading sound of his desperate panting breaths showed he had ever been there at all.
Listen... Listen...
He blinked and stumbled, his eyes beginning to readjust to the blackness. Turn left here! His shoes slipped and skidded as he veered around a corner, almost falling on the slippery ice that still clung to the curb. He threw a glance from the corner of his eye down the road he'd just come down, but he could make nothing out aside from the glaring light of the streetlamp.
I hear the sound of a heart from the shadow in the dark, waiting for the poison to hit its mark...
The pain in his side lanced up further into his ribs. His steps faltered as he tried to draw a stabbing breath. Clutching his side tightly, he gritted his teeth and pushed his legs even faster than before. His vision narrowed to the pavement ten feet ahead of him and focused. Keep moving, gotta keep moving.
I see the darkness around, the shape on the ground, the killer straight up and the body facedown...
Another streetlight flashed by overhead. A screaming sound broke through his focus. It took him a moment to recognize it as the distant siren of a police car. In that second of broken concentration his feet hit a crack in the pavement. His head hit the ground with a crack! as his body threw itself forward and down.
I hear the death of a scream, the sorrowing stream, the smell of farewell and gasoline...
His initial cry was cut short as he bit down on his tongue. For an interminable moment everything halted but the rushing in his ears. Then he gasped in a breath. Suddenly he could taste the blood in his mouth, feel the shattering pain running through his head. He lay there on the ground for a moment. Trying to hear through the haze of pain and the sound of his own panting breath, he strained to make out the sound of footsteps from behind him.
I see a heart set free by a legacy, hear a voice from the shadow that is beckoning me...
His muscles screamed as he shoved himself up and off the ground. The first few running steps he took awkwardly, body strained to the limit and showing. Slowly his balance returned and he kept running, weaving back and forth across the road. As the quiet darkness of the night reclaimed the broken silence, only a patch of blood shining on the ground and the fading sound of his desperate panting breaths showed he had ever been there at all.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Saving Me
Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawling
And oh, I reach for you
I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul
And all I need is you (Come, please, I'm calling)
And oh, I scream for you (Hurry, I'm falling... I'm falling...)
Show me what it's like (to be the last one standing)
And teach me wrong from right (and I'll show you what I can be)
And say it for me, say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth savin' me (Hurry, I'm falling)
Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm falling
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh, I scream for you (Come, please, I'm calling)
And all I need from you (Hurry, I'm falling... I'm falling...)
Show me what it's like (to be the last one standing)
And teach me wrong from right (and I'll show you what I can be)
And say it for me, say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth savin' me
On these hands and knees I'm crawling
And oh, I reach for you
I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul
And all I need is you (Come, please, I'm calling)
And oh, I scream for you (Hurry, I'm falling... I'm falling...)
Show me what it's like (to be the last one standing)
And teach me wrong from right (and I'll show you what I can be)
And say it for me, say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth savin' me (Hurry, I'm falling)
Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm falling
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh, I scream for you (Come, please, I'm calling)
And all I need from you (Hurry, I'm falling... I'm falling...)
Show me what it's like (to be the last one standing)
And teach me wrong from right (and I'll show you what I can be)
And say it for me, say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth savin' me
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Possession
This song has always spoken to me. It really seems to capture the soul of passion.
Listen as the wind blows
From across the great divide
Voices trapped in yearning
Memories trapped in time
The night is my companion
And solitude my guide
Would I spend forever here
And not be satisfied
Through this world I've stumbled
So many times betrayed
Trying to find an honest word
To find the truth enslaved
Oh you speak to me in riddles and
You speak to me in rhymes
My body aches to breathe your breath
You words keep me alive
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes dear
Into this night I wander
It's morning that I dread
Another day of knowing of
The path I fear to tread
Oh into the sea of waking dreams
I follow without pride
Nothing stands between us here
And I won't be denied
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes dear
Listen as the wind blows
From across the great divide
Voices trapped in yearning
Memories trapped in time
The night is my companion
And solitude my guide
Would I spend forever here
And not be satisfied
Through this world I've stumbled
So many times betrayed
Trying to find an honest word
To find the truth enslaved
Oh you speak to me in riddles and
You speak to me in rhymes
My body aches to breathe your breath
You words keep me alive
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes dear
Into this night I wander
It's morning that I dread
Another day of knowing of
The path I fear to tread
Oh into the sea of waking dreams
I follow without pride
Nothing stands between us here
And I won't be denied
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes dear
Psychopathology
I write this hoping someday someone else can benefit from knowing my experiences. Actually, maybe I'm just writing this so I can try to make someone understand what's happened to me. I know I can't be the only one who has experienced this. I wish to God I could find the other. But no, I will believe that there are no others. I would not wish this on anyone else in the world. But if our travels ever bring us together, friend, maybe in the brief moments before we run from each other I can give you this record. Maybe it will help you in some way. And maybe it will help me just to know you exist.
I don't remember anymore exactly when it started. Was it that night I woke up screaming? Was it when the dreams I kept having wouldn't leave me alone, even when I was awake? I can't remember. But it did happen.
I hear minds.
You're probably thinking I mean telepathy. Maybe some form of clairvoyance. No, I mean what I said, I hear MINDS. Not the thoughts you solidify enough in your head to become coherent ideas, but the entire jumbled mess behind it. How many images/feelings/fragments/words/ideas/memories flash through your mind even in the space of five minutes? You aren't even aware of most of them for more than a split second. The few that make their way up to the surface of your mind are only a tiny fraction of the babbling roiling mass of... of mayhem that constantly shifts under the visible portion of your brain. And I hear it! All of it! All the time! Do you understand?? Every face, every body that passes by me is just a rubbery shell for the hideous constantly shifting liquid of emotions and images that swirl through them. And for that moment when we pass I see through the shell, I am thrust into the maelstrom. The woman who is wondering if her lipstick is still on while she remembers her father holding her and tries to forget the loneliness she feels and the song she heard a second ago on the radio plays and oh god how am I going to pay the hospital bill... And all that is just the visible part of one second of her mind.
At first I could not help but feel their pain, their joys, their hopes, their fears. All of it blasted into my defenseless psyche. I no longer know who I am or what I feel because it cannot compare to the immenseness of the emotions of some of those I have seen exposed. All those dull faces... you would never think that they were capable of some of the things I hear. Every one leaves their mark on my mind. There are hundreds of marks now. Even as I am here, so far from everyone and everything, I can't keep the still life photographs of each person from resurfacing almost constantly. It has been months at least now, I am certain, though I cannot remember how I got here or when. I just recently have become capable of seeing through my own eyes again. Perhaps you, friend, have found a way to adapt, to shut off or seal yourself against the invasion. I pray you have, or that you have been able to find solace somewhere alone as well. Perhaps one day we can return to the world, able to use this gift/curse with more finesse. Until then, I hope you are well, even as I hope that you do not exist.
But if you do...
Please.
Find me.
I don't remember anymore exactly when it started. Was it that night I woke up screaming? Was it when the dreams I kept having wouldn't leave me alone, even when I was awake? I can't remember. But it did happen.
I hear minds.
You're probably thinking I mean telepathy. Maybe some form of clairvoyance. No, I mean what I said, I hear MINDS. Not the thoughts you solidify enough in your head to become coherent ideas, but the entire jumbled mess behind it. How many images/feelings/fragments/words/ideas/memories flash through your mind even in the space of five minutes? You aren't even aware of most of them for more than a split second. The few that make their way up to the surface of your mind are only a tiny fraction of the babbling roiling mass of... of mayhem that constantly shifts under the visible portion of your brain. And I hear it! All of it! All the time! Do you understand?? Every face, every body that passes by me is just a rubbery shell for the hideous constantly shifting liquid of emotions and images that swirl through them. And for that moment when we pass I see through the shell, I am thrust into the maelstrom. The woman who is wondering if her lipstick is still on while she remembers her father holding her and tries to forget the loneliness she feels and the song she heard a second ago on the radio plays and oh god how am I going to pay the hospital bill... And all that is just the visible part of one second of her mind.
At first I could not help but feel their pain, their joys, their hopes, their fears. All of it blasted into my defenseless psyche. I no longer know who I am or what I feel because it cannot compare to the immenseness of the emotions of some of those I have seen exposed. All those dull faces... you would never think that they were capable of some of the things I hear. Every one leaves their mark on my mind. There are hundreds of marks now. Even as I am here, so far from everyone and everything, I can't keep the still life photographs of each person from resurfacing almost constantly. It has been months at least now, I am certain, though I cannot remember how I got here or when. I just recently have become capable of seeing through my own eyes again. Perhaps you, friend, have found a way to adapt, to shut off or seal yourself against the invasion. I pray you have, or that you have been able to find solace somewhere alone as well. Perhaps one day we can return to the world, able to use this gift/curse with more finesse. Until then, I hope you are well, even as I hope that you do not exist.
But if you do...
Please.
Find me.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Fireborne Images
The candle's flame in clear and blue
and yellow showing false from true
continues caring not who knows
the reasoning for which it glows.
The smallest flame, so uncontrolled
yet still so wild. I soon behold
the passing of the dying wax
that carry moments on their backs
To places I can barely see
within the dying flame. For me
the vision is so cruelly faint,
portraying in translucent paint
The hints of dreams I have forgot.
I tell myself again to not
be lost in phantoms; still I keep
my flame-born heart, where yet I sleep.
and yellow showing false from true
continues caring not who knows
the reasoning for which it glows.
The smallest flame, so uncontrolled
yet still so wild. I soon behold
the passing of the dying wax
that carry moments on their backs
To places I can barely see
within the dying flame. For me
the vision is so cruelly faint,
portraying in translucent paint
The hints of dreams I have forgot.
I tell myself again to not
be lost in phantoms; still I keep
my flame-born heart, where yet I sleep.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Jack-In-The-Cage
Look at the Jack. It remains hidden in the box eternally. Till someone turns the crank. Presenting the proper impetus, the Jack bursts forth, displaying its colors to the waiting appreciative eyes. Amusement passed, the creator pushes the Jack back into its box. Soon, the crank turns again. And obediently as the puppet it is, the Jack springs forth, reds and blues ablaze with fascination for the viewer. Sated again with the brilliance of colors, the viewer once again desires to return to the dullness of reality, shoving the Jack once again back into its box.
But the Jack does not complain. Never once does it's painted smile fade in intensity. It is always there, waiting for the next bored one to turn the crank and make it pop forth in all its glory once more. Long after there are no more viewers it will still be there, inside its box, beauty slowly fading into dullness. It does not mind. It serves its purpose: to amuse for a moment, to fascinate, to relieve the dullness of the mundane. And the children clap their hands and laugh and forget.
The Jack will always be there, serving the purpose it was created for.
Friday, February 20, 2009
No Fairy Tale
"Thwack!"
The last of the thorny wall fell away in front of the flashing blade. Through the newly created opening in the hedge plunged the knight, his armor glistening gold in the sunset. He threw a quick look around him. Behind him there was the seemingly immeasurably long, ten foot high wall of brambles he had just finished cutting his path through. But there, only steps away now, was the glistening marble tower that had been his goal all along. It shone like a pearlescent needle lifting gracefully into the darkening sky, smooth sides glimmered with the pinks and purples of the setting sun shining in a picturesque manner behind it.
He quickly crossed the few feet of carefully manicured lawn still separating him from the tower. A quick search turned up a large wooden door on its east side. He tugged at the door, and looked surprised as the door swung easily open. His pearly teeth glinted as he smiled eagerly, and began to race up the spiralling staircase directly inside the door. The stairs stretched up and up, but the knight wasn't even breathing hard as he finally arrived at a trapdoor in the roof above him. Now a simple plank of wood with a brass handle was separating the knight from his ultimate goal. Bracing himself, he pushed violently upwards through the trapdoor. It shattered in tiny wooden shards all around him as he burst through it and into the stone room at the top of the marble tower.
There she was. She sat on a small wooden chair in the middle of the room looking bird-startled at his dramatic entrance into her room. Her golden hair flowed all around her body down to her feet and pooled around her perfect ankles like a puddle of liquid gold. Her blue dress seemed to contour to her curves perfectly, leaving only the white skin of her flawless hands and neck exposed. To the knight, she was the picture of loveliness, the princess he had fought so hard to reach and rescue. She regained her composure and graced him with a perfect smile.
"At last you have come!" she exclaimed. The knight stepped towards her welcoming form, removing his helmet as he came and shaking his artfully unkempt golden locks back over his shoulders. He raised his gauntlet to his chest and exclaimed.
"At last we meet! You are even more lovely than I imagined." She blushed gently. Then she raised her arms entreatingly to him.
"I have waited so long for you to rescue me from this lonely tower! Come, carry me away and we shall live happily ever after!" His brow creased slightly at this.
"Now, hold on there just a moment. There are considerations for this sort of thing you know." She looked puzzled, her arms still outstretched but beginning to droop a bit.
"I... don't understand?", she said plaintively.
"Well, one doesn't just run off and live 'happily ever after'. I mean, we'll have to get our own castle for starters. I'm afraid my parents' dungeon just won't cut it.", he explained matter-of-factly.
"My father has promised half the kingdom to any who would rescue me!", she cried. He seated himself on the floor heavily.
"Oh yes, and that's all well and good, but there's still the matter of finding our own place, settling on a mortgage payment, portioning the peasantry out, building flocks, deciding whose parents to name our first child after..." Her arms slowly dropped to her sides as he continued listing matters that must be dealt with before their marriage. When he paused for breath she looked confused and a little hurt.
"I... do not understand. Why do we not leave this place and ride into the sunset together, happy in each other's arms? This is happily ever after, is it not? You have rescued me! Do you not want to carry me off and live in bliss?" She sounded almost plaintive at this last statement. He got up and gently took hold of her arms and looked condescendingly into her eyes.
"Of COURSE I do, darling. But you must understand that happily ever after doesn't happen on its own. We must work these things out! This isn't a fairy tale as you seem to think, this is life!" He let her go and began to pace, working into the swing of his soliloquy. "I can't simply carry you away into the sunset! There's much more to it than that. We must consult with our parents, also with the sages to discover the possibilities of children from this union. Come now, this is the truth of the situation, no fantasy as you suggest! Now, be sensible and let's get down to business."
Her eyes began to overflow with the tears she had been holding back. She moved quickly towards the trapdoor and began to descend the stairs. He quickly raced to the trapdoor and called after her.
"Hey! Where are you going?" She swung around, her lovely eyes flashing.
"You can just go be sensible on your own! Go plan your castle and your flocks by yourself, you do not need me! You do not even love me! If you prize your precious 'real life' and 'responsibility' so much, may it bring you the happiness that you would steal from me! If you will not carry me away as a princess should be carried off, I will find a prince who WILL!"
With these final angry words, she turned and stormed down the rest of the stairs, sobbing. The knight stood there dumbfounded. He finally shook his head and tore his stare away from the stairs. He gathered his armor together again, mumbling something about 'silly romantic women with their silly romantic ideas', and slowly made his way back to the base of the tower. Whistling for his steed, he rode back through the thorny hedge, calculating in his head the gross average payment on a castle in the next kingdom over.
The last of the thorny wall fell away in front of the flashing blade. Through the newly created opening in the hedge plunged the knight, his armor glistening gold in the sunset. He threw a quick look around him. Behind him there was the seemingly immeasurably long, ten foot high wall of brambles he had just finished cutting his path through. But there, only steps away now, was the glistening marble tower that had been his goal all along. It shone like a pearlescent needle lifting gracefully into the darkening sky, smooth sides glimmered with the pinks and purples of the setting sun shining in a picturesque manner behind it.
He quickly crossed the few feet of carefully manicured lawn still separating him from the tower. A quick search turned up a large wooden door on its east side. He tugged at the door, and looked surprised as the door swung easily open. His pearly teeth glinted as he smiled eagerly, and began to race up the spiralling staircase directly inside the door. The stairs stretched up and up, but the knight wasn't even breathing hard as he finally arrived at a trapdoor in the roof above him. Now a simple plank of wood with a brass handle was separating the knight from his ultimate goal. Bracing himself, he pushed violently upwards through the trapdoor. It shattered in tiny wooden shards all around him as he burst through it and into the stone room at the top of the marble tower.
There she was. She sat on a small wooden chair in the middle of the room looking bird-startled at his dramatic entrance into her room. Her golden hair flowed all around her body down to her feet and pooled around her perfect ankles like a puddle of liquid gold. Her blue dress seemed to contour to her curves perfectly, leaving only the white skin of her flawless hands and neck exposed. To the knight, she was the picture of loveliness, the princess he had fought so hard to reach and rescue. She regained her composure and graced him with a perfect smile.
"At last you have come!" she exclaimed. The knight stepped towards her welcoming form, removing his helmet as he came and shaking his artfully unkempt golden locks back over his shoulders. He raised his gauntlet to his chest and exclaimed.
"At last we meet! You are even more lovely than I imagined." She blushed gently. Then she raised her arms entreatingly to him.
"I have waited so long for you to rescue me from this lonely tower! Come, carry me away and we shall live happily ever after!" His brow creased slightly at this.
"Now, hold on there just a moment. There are considerations for this sort of thing you know." She looked puzzled, her arms still outstretched but beginning to droop a bit.
"I... don't understand?", she said plaintively.
"Well, one doesn't just run off and live 'happily ever after'. I mean, we'll have to get our own castle for starters. I'm afraid my parents' dungeon just won't cut it.", he explained matter-of-factly.
"My father has promised half the kingdom to any who would rescue me!", she cried. He seated himself on the floor heavily.
"Oh yes, and that's all well and good, but there's still the matter of finding our own place, settling on a mortgage payment, portioning the peasantry out, building flocks, deciding whose parents to name our first child after..." Her arms slowly dropped to her sides as he continued listing matters that must be dealt with before their marriage. When he paused for breath she looked confused and a little hurt.
"I... do not understand. Why do we not leave this place and ride into the sunset together, happy in each other's arms? This is happily ever after, is it not? You have rescued me! Do you not want to carry me off and live in bliss?" She sounded almost plaintive at this last statement. He got up and gently took hold of her arms and looked condescendingly into her eyes.
"Of COURSE I do, darling. But you must understand that happily ever after doesn't happen on its own. We must work these things out! This isn't a fairy tale as you seem to think, this is life!" He let her go and began to pace, working into the swing of his soliloquy. "I can't simply carry you away into the sunset! There's much more to it than that. We must consult with our parents, also with the sages to discover the possibilities of children from this union. Come now, this is the truth of the situation, no fantasy as you suggest! Now, be sensible and let's get down to business."
Her eyes began to overflow with the tears she had been holding back. She moved quickly towards the trapdoor and began to descend the stairs. He quickly raced to the trapdoor and called after her.
"Hey! Where are you going?" She swung around, her lovely eyes flashing.
"You can just go be sensible on your own! Go plan your castle and your flocks by yourself, you do not need me! You do not even love me! If you prize your precious 'real life' and 'responsibility' so much, may it bring you the happiness that you would steal from me! If you will not carry me away as a princess should be carried off, I will find a prince who WILL!"
With these final angry words, she turned and stormed down the rest of the stairs, sobbing. The knight stood there dumbfounded. He finally shook his head and tore his stare away from the stairs. He gathered his armor together again, mumbling something about 'silly romantic women with their silly romantic ideas', and slowly made his way back to the base of the tower. Whistling for his steed, he rode back through the thorny hedge, calculating in his head the gross average payment on a castle in the next kingdom over.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Remember Me
It's safe to say I'm nothing now.
It's all so quiet but I can't forget the sound;
A thousand voices call my name
A thousand hands that pull me back down to the ground
I turn away from what you are, denying all that you have given.
I find a place that's safe and far.
In time all will be forgiven.
If I try to get away
How long until I'm free
And if I don't come back here
Will you remember me?
It's all so quiet but I can't forget the sound;
A thousand voices call my name
A thousand hands that pull me back down to the ground
I turn away from what you are, denying all that you have given.
I find a place that's safe and far.
In time all will be forgiven.
If I try to get away
How long until I'm free
And if I don't come back here
Will you remember me?
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
A Second Look
"Point six of a percent!"
"Actually, it's point five seven."
"Oh whatever, you're always being testy about these things."
"Not testy. Just exact. It pays in my line of work."
"Our line of work you mean. Just because you graduated higher than me doesn't mean that I don't count."
"Right, it just means I'm better than you."
"Hey-"
"Before you start sputtering, maybe you should remember who was the one who thought to try this method on moonrocks."
"Alright, alright, and it got you a frikking Nobel. I hope you choke on it one day. You're likely to if you talk about it much more. That is, assuming you even can talk about it much more. It already occupies what, ninety percent of your conversations?"
"Oh please. You're just jealous. And speaking of jealous, write those percentages down, I think we've got a new record for this strata. That little ton of rock will power Los Angeles for a year."
"Duly noted, mon capitan. Successful extraction of fissionable materials from substrata Delta Three. Point of origin: one one niner mark two by three five mark seven. Point six percent extraction rate."
"I told you, it's point five seven."
"Blah blah whatever. Slated for transport on the twelfth. Your granddad would be proud."
"Heh, he would at that. He always thought his theory had weight."
"Yeah, maybe they should've given him the Nobel."
"I tried to show it to him right after I got him. Went straight to his hospital room right after the ceremony and the hand-shaking was over. I swear he knew what I was talking about for a second there. Almost looked like he smiled at me. Nurse said it must've just been a reflexive reaction of some kind. Makes you wonder..."
"Wonder when you're ever going to be anything but depressing maybe. Seriously, I don't need a family history here, we all know your dad's dying. It's not the kind of thought one likes to linger on when the only thing keeping one from impending chilly death is a few meters of cel-glass."
"Space is serious business my friend."
"Right, which is why nobody takes it seriously. All the big things in life are like that. If we really stop to think about them it's hard to think about anything else. So we make fun of them, we treat them like they don't matter, like they'll never happen to us. Just like the guys in the caf all joke about spacing each other. None of 'em'd ever do it, hell, most of 'em never seen it done neither. But behind that joking they're all scared spitless just like us that we'll be the next Connor. Fixing a broken nut on the outer hull and BAM. Meteorite through the air tank. Freak accident, instant suit decompression. And off Connor floats, off into space as if he hadn't a care in the world. Makes you think, you know? How we don't know if we've got anything except right now. So we can't waste time worrying about things that might happen, taking things too seriously. Gotta live for what's here and now, cause that's all that's certain in this life."
"...Wow. Don't think I've ever heard you say something that deep since... well, ever. Didn't know you had in you."
"Just full of surprises ain't I? Look, how about we forget this death stuff and just be happy about a good day's work done here? With numbers like these, I might very well end up with my own Nobel!"
"Ha. Sure. Keep dreaming, my friend."
"Actually, it's point five seven."
"Oh whatever, you're always being testy about these things."
"Not testy. Just exact. It pays in my line of work."
"Our line of work you mean. Just because you graduated higher than me doesn't mean that I don't count."
"Right, it just means I'm better than you."
"Hey-"
"Before you start sputtering, maybe you should remember who was the one who thought to try this method on moonrocks."
"Alright, alright, and it got you a frikking Nobel. I hope you choke on it one day. You're likely to if you talk about it much more. That is, assuming you even can talk about it much more. It already occupies what, ninety percent of your conversations?"
"Oh please. You're just jealous. And speaking of jealous, write those percentages down, I think we've got a new record for this strata. That little ton of rock will power Los Angeles for a year."
"Duly noted, mon capitan. Successful extraction of fissionable materials from substrata Delta Three. Point of origin: one one niner mark two by three five mark seven. Point six percent extraction rate."
"I told you, it's point five seven."
"Blah blah whatever. Slated for transport on the twelfth. Your granddad would be proud."
"Heh, he would at that. He always thought his theory had weight."
"Yeah, maybe they should've given him the Nobel."
"I tried to show it to him right after I got him. Went straight to his hospital room right after the ceremony and the hand-shaking was over. I swear he knew what I was talking about for a second there. Almost looked like he smiled at me. Nurse said it must've just been a reflexive reaction of some kind. Makes you wonder..."
"Wonder when you're ever going to be anything but depressing maybe. Seriously, I don't need a family history here, we all know your dad's dying. It's not the kind of thought one likes to linger on when the only thing keeping one from impending chilly death is a few meters of cel-glass."
"Space is serious business my friend."
"Right, which is why nobody takes it seriously. All the big things in life are like that. If we really stop to think about them it's hard to think about anything else. So we make fun of them, we treat them like they don't matter, like they'll never happen to us. Just like the guys in the caf all joke about spacing each other. None of 'em'd ever do it, hell, most of 'em never seen it done neither. But behind that joking they're all scared spitless just like us that we'll be the next Connor. Fixing a broken nut on the outer hull and BAM. Meteorite through the air tank. Freak accident, instant suit decompression. And off Connor floats, off into space as if he hadn't a care in the world. Makes you think, you know? How we don't know if we've got anything except right now. So we can't waste time worrying about things that might happen, taking things too seriously. Gotta live for what's here and now, cause that's all that's certain in this life."
"...Wow. Don't think I've ever heard you say something that deep since... well, ever. Didn't know you had in you."
"Just full of surprises ain't I? Look, how about we forget this death stuff and just be happy about a good day's work done here? With numbers like these, I might very well end up with my own Nobel!"
"Ha. Sure. Keep dreaming, my friend."
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Almost
On top of the six story office building stands a man. Above him is nothing but cloudy sky, threatening the rain that the weather man predicted as a 60% chance for today, along with a few late geese. Below him a few cars go by in the unnatural twilight, headlights on. Some people pass by on the sidewalk, acting for all the world as if nothing was different about today. But it is different, the man knows. Today is the day the world changes forever.
He leans a little further over the edge of the roof.
He closes his eyes tightly.
He stretches his arms out as if he thought he could sprout wings and fly off.
He begins the final move forward that will push his center of gravity over the ledge.
Suddenly, he feels a vice-like grip clamp down on his outstretched right arm. It startles him out of his reverie, as he jerks to a sudden halt leaning precariously over the edge of the building. He turns to look at what has stopped his fall. There, holding onto him for all he's worth, is his best friend. The door to the roof several meters behind them is open; ah, thinks the man, that must be how he got up here. He must have known something was wrong today. The friend gives a heave, and the man stumbles down on hands and knees onto the too-solid surface of the roof. The friend holds the sobbing man and guides him down the stairs to the ground floor, where a cab is waiting to take them to a local bar they both frequent. Several drinks, a few hours, and a long conversation later, they both part ways. The man's steps are not as slow or heavy now. Maybe things really can get better.
A few months go by. The man meets a friend of his sister's and they hit it off immediately. She's everything he's been looking for in a girl. Soon they're both head over heels in love with each other. It takes him a few more months, but he gets up the courage to ask her to marry him. She says yes, and they immediately run off and elope in the Florida Keys, where they have the wildest honeymoon either of them could imagine. Blissful years pass, both of them falling more in love with each other every day. Two years into their marriage they have a beautiful baby girl. She has her mother's eyes, but her father's mouth and nose. As the man stands in the delivery room looking into the blinking eyes of his daughter, he realizes just how much of life he would have missed had it not been for his friend on that roof years ago.
There is a muffled loud sound.
The people on the sidewalk scream. A car screeches to a halt, causing the car behind it to smash into its rear bumper. Someone yells something about 911 as people begin to pile out of their cars to gawk at the mess. Nobody can tell who the man was yet, though they're pretty sure it's a man given the clothes he was wearing. They wonder aloud what could possibly cause someone to be that desperate, all the while staring at the bloody mess on the ground. As the ambulances' screaming sirens begin to arrive on the scene, the bystanders reluctantly give way to let the uniformed men through to the scene. They check for a pulse, shake their heads, and begin to lift the body onto a stretcher.
Funny thing, one of them comments. The other looks at him questioningly. The first looks confused. Look at his face, he says.
It almost looks as though... he's smiling.
He leans a little further over the edge of the roof.
He closes his eyes tightly.
He stretches his arms out as if he thought he could sprout wings and fly off.
He begins the final move forward that will push his center of gravity over the ledge.
Suddenly, he feels a vice-like grip clamp down on his outstretched right arm. It startles him out of his reverie, as he jerks to a sudden halt leaning precariously over the edge of the building. He turns to look at what has stopped his fall. There, holding onto him for all he's worth, is his best friend. The door to the roof several meters behind them is open; ah, thinks the man, that must be how he got up here. He must have known something was wrong today. The friend gives a heave, and the man stumbles down on hands and knees onto the too-solid surface of the roof. The friend holds the sobbing man and guides him down the stairs to the ground floor, where a cab is waiting to take them to a local bar they both frequent. Several drinks, a few hours, and a long conversation later, they both part ways. The man's steps are not as slow or heavy now. Maybe things really can get better.
A few months go by. The man meets a friend of his sister's and they hit it off immediately. She's everything he's been looking for in a girl. Soon they're both head over heels in love with each other. It takes him a few more months, but he gets up the courage to ask her to marry him. She says yes, and they immediately run off and elope in the Florida Keys, where they have the wildest honeymoon either of them could imagine. Blissful years pass, both of them falling more in love with each other every day. Two years into their marriage they have a beautiful baby girl. She has her mother's eyes, but her father's mouth and nose. As the man stands in the delivery room looking into the blinking eyes of his daughter, he realizes just how much of life he would have missed had it not been for his friend on that roof years ago.
There is a muffled loud sound.
The people on the sidewalk scream. A car screeches to a halt, causing the car behind it to smash into its rear bumper. Someone yells something about 911 as people begin to pile out of their cars to gawk at the mess. Nobody can tell who the man was yet, though they're pretty sure it's a man given the clothes he was wearing. They wonder aloud what could possibly cause someone to be that desperate, all the while staring at the bloody mess on the ground. As the ambulances' screaming sirens begin to arrive on the scene, the bystanders reluctantly give way to let the uniformed men through to the scene. They check for a pulse, shake their heads, and begin to lift the body onto a stretcher.
Funny thing, one of them comments. The other looks at him questioningly. The first looks confused. Look at his face, he says.
It almost looks as though... he's smiling.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Hey God!
It's your turn. If you are even there. If you are more than the air I'm breathing, more than the sense of duty and responsibility I have.
They say that in the good times you are blessing us, and in the hard times you are testing us. But why? Who knows if these are not just good times and hard times? They come to everyone, people who believe in you and people who don't; those who follow your guidelines and those who don't. You say things that don't make sense and seem to contradict each other. I've spent my whole life hearing reasons for you and convoluted reasoning behind the seeming contradictions of you. Does it really have to be that complicated?
To make this short, I don't know if you really are there. I know that someone created this earth. I know that someone instilled right and wrong and emotions and will in us. I don't know that you are watching our every move and care about us. Are you just an adult children's story to make us less scared of the long dark?
We all want to believe in something. And that's what it comes down to isn't it? Faith. Faith without knowing or seeing or understanding. Sheer blind belief.
I don't have a lot of that left. So it's your move. If you really are here, and you really are watching everything we do, maybe you can help show me. Or at least give me the will to try again.
They say that in the good times you are blessing us, and in the hard times you are testing us. But why? Who knows if these are not just good times and hard times? They come to everyone, people who believe in you and people who don't; those who follow your guidelines and those who don't. You say things that don't make sense and seem to contradict each other. I've spent my whole life hearing reasons for you and convoluted reasoning behind the seeming contradictions of you. Does it really have to be that complicated?
To make this short, I don't know if you really are there. I know that someone created this earth. I know that someone instilled right and wrong and emotions and will in us. I don't know that you are watching our every move and care about us. Are you just an adult children's story to make us less scared of the long dark?
We all want to believe in something. And that's what it comes down to isn't it? Faith. Faith without knowing or seeing or understanding. Sheer blind belief.
I don't have a lot of that left. So it's your move. If you really are here, and you really are watching everything we do, maybe you can help show me. Or at least give me the will to try again.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
The Dance
"Mirror on the wall
Reflect this kiss to wish us all
Goodnight"
(The scene is a candle-lit ballroom. Candelabras adorn the marble pillars that jut out from the walls encasing beautiful stained-glass windows between them, each depicting a scene out of a fairy tale. The dim rays of the candles glint off the crystals that hang all across the roof, draping in waves emanating from the four chandeliers that adorn the ceiling. The effect is one of stars being strewn across the room, as the candlelight is reflected from a thousand facets. Music in a minor key, just loud enough to penetrate conversation, is playing from an unknown location. A lone woman is dancing by herself in the center of the room. She is dressed in black and red, her face covered by a translucent veil of black lace.
An enormous set of double doors in the south wall of the room slowly open just enough to let a well-dressed man through. A ray of light shines through behind him, but is slowly eclipsed as he walks into the room a few steps and the doors swing shut again soundlessly. The woman continues dancing, seeming oblivious to the man's entry.)
Man: "What is this place? How did I get here?"
(The woman continues dancing, with strange twisting evocative motions. The man walks closer to her, gazing curiously.)
Man: "... I know you. Don't I?"
Woman: (slowly coming to a halt facing the man, her face unreadable) "It has been a while since anyone has been here..."
Man: "Who are you?"
Woman: (smiling behind her veil) "You came to me, shouldn't you know who I am?"
Man: (ponders for a moment, then shakes his head) "I don't remember..."
(The woman comes close to the man and raises her hands to his face. He shivers as if her hands are cold.)
Woman: "Dance with me."
Man: "I don't know how."
Woman: "Yes, you do. You wouldn't be here if you did not."
(She takes his hands and begins to dance the twisting dance again. He moves hesitantly for a moment, but seems to quickly become familiar with the dance. As the dance continues, his eyes brighten and he looks surprised.)
Man: "What - what is this?"
Woman: "This is The Dance. This is why you came here."
Man: "It's... different. I don't understand."
Woman: "You do not need to."
(They continue to dance in silence. The dance becomes gradually faster, and the two begin to move in and out, coming so close they seem one person for a moment, then spinning out to arm's length the next moment. The man seems enthralled.)
Man: "This is... you are... what I have been looking for my entire life! (He laughs giddily) I could do this forever!"
Woman: "No-one ever has. They come to dance, and then they leave. This is the way it has always been."
Man: (Gazing intently at her) "I will. I won't leave. You'll see."
(The woman smiles again and says nothing. The dance continues. After a little while, the man suddenly stops and grasps the woman's shoulders in his hands, staring at her veiled face.)
Man: (Breathing hard) "You are... intoxicating! I've never felt anything like this! I have to see you, show me your face, I have to know who you are!" (He reaches for her veil and pulls on it. It does not move, as if it was made of steel.)
Woman: "You wish to see me? You wish to know who I am?"
(She reaches her hands up to her veil and pushes it back over her hair. He stops breathing. She is even more beautiful than he imagined. Her hair is onyx black, her skin is ivory, her lips are blood red. Her eyes are entirely black, no whites or irises at all. She gives him a brilliant smile.)
Woman: "Do you see me now?"
Man: (Struggling to speak) "...Yes..."
(He stares openly at her face for a few silent moments.)
Man: (Pulling her close) "I want to stay with you forever."
Woman: "Do you?"
Man: "Oh yes..." (He leans forward and tilts her head up. Their lips touch. They hold the kiss for an interminable moment. Finally she breaks away. He is speechless, stunned.)
Man: (Struggling to speak, still gazing into her eyes) "I love you."
(She says nothing but smiles at him. She brings her hands back to his shoulders and back, beginning the dance again. He moves with her, his eyes never moving from her face. His face moves from stunned amazement to elation. He begins to dance faster. They spin around the room, twisting into strange positions that sometimes cause them to appear as one person, sometimes as two.
The room begins to blur. The crystals and candles blur into a single faintly glowing image. The man remains in sharp focus as the woman fades with the room. He finds himself suddenly standing, arms out as if still wrapped around her, staring at a large set of double doors. They are the doors he passed through into the ballroom.
He stares around for a moment, not understanding what has happened. Then he rushes to the door and pulls on the handles. It does not budge. He begins to pound on the door, screaming for her, for the doors to open, for help. There is no response. His frantic efforts finally begin to slow, and he slumps slowly to the floor, leaning on the door. Tears are streaming from his eyes as he covers his face and sobs.
From somewhere behind the door, there are faint strains of music in a minor key.)
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Submission
Her head jerks to one side as the nerves twitch. She sees her hands move and her mouth open and close. Words come out but she doesn't bother to see what they are, though they sound like honey and daffodils. The room around her never quite comes into focus, all blurring into one kaleidoscopic moire of bodies and furniture and expectations. She twinges for a moment as the arm inside her spine moves in an unfamiliar way. She calms quickly though, and the pain returns to a familiar screaming needle in the back of her awareness.
The hand in her head moves her to talk again, saying more incomprehensible comforting sounds. At a push she moves forward and her arms embrace a stranger who knows her name. She has done this a million times before and will do it again a million more times before she dies. As the thought of her death passes through her mind it brings a strange flicker of... is this satisfaction? happiness? She does not recognize the emotion, but she almost wishes the thought had stayed longer. To imagine the controlling hand disengaged from her, even if it be in death... But her thoughts quickly return to the familiar greyness of normalcy.
More motions, more words, another day has gone by. Consciousness fades from her mind as the hand relaxes and she sleeps. She does not notice the change from waking to sleeping. The pain is still there, a constant companion. Just like the puppetmaster's hand thrust into her back grasping her spinal column. Nobody even notices the blood that constantly seeps from the entry wound.
But it's alright, she thinks as she fades to black. She wanted it this way all along.
The hand in her head moves her to talk again, saying more incomprehensible comforting sounds. At a push she moves forward and her arms embrace a stranger who knows her name. She has done this a million times before and will do it again a million more times before she dies. As the thought of her death passes through her mind it brings a strange flicker of... is this satisfaction? happiness? She does not recognize the emotion, but she almost wishes the thought had stayed longer. To imagine the controlling hand disengaged from her, even if it be in death... But her thoughts quickly return to the familiar greyness of normalcy.
More motions, more words, another day has gone by. Consciousness fades from her mind as the hand relaxes and she sleeps. She does not notice the change from waking to sleeping. The pain is still there, a constant companion. Just like the puppetmaster's hand thrust into her back grasping her spinal column. Nobody even notices the blood that constantly seeps from the entry wound.
But it's alright, she thinks as she fades to black. She wanted it this way all along.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Haunted
You're broken, so am I;
I’m better off alone.
No one to turn to and nothing to call my own
You're outspoken, so am I;
Explosive words that your world wouldn’t understand.
Turn away again.
You're beaten, so am I;
I’ve got a heart of stone.
No medication can cure what has taken hold.
You're hurting, so will I,
When I awake and remember why I've been running from your world.
Dishonored by your world.
Your world;
I’m haunted by your world.
I’m better off alone.
No one to turn to and nothing to call my own
You're outspoken, so am I;
Explosive words that your world wouldn’t understand.
Turn away again.
You're beaten, so am I;
I’ve got a heart of stone.
No medication can cure what has taken hold.
You're hurting, so will I,
When I awake and remember why I've been running from your world.
Dishonored by your world.
Your world;
I’m haunted by your world.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Dreams and Waking
I do not know the moment I passed from consciousness to blackness but it must have happened at some point during the night.
I had stopped fighting the winds in my mind, the twisting repetitive furious gales that swirled inerrantly in the same direction. Realizing I could not stop them with the meager force of my hands, I let them pull me up, bombarding me with images and feelings one after the other as they swept me helplessly through the darkened sky of my consciousness. Unwilling to fight, I let them flood over me till I no longer knew if I was awake or dreaming.
There was a face I knew.
a name;
laughter;
dread;
horror;
dead eyes;
dead souls;
my own crippled heart;
someone’s failure;
glorious light, holy and inviting;
a door shut;
something lost;
memories slipping...
I don’t know when I understood I was dreaming or if I ever did. I passed from dreams to consciousness and back many times during the dark. The place I lay felt unfamiliar, yet familiar. Idly the thought crossed my mind that the darkness might never end. I might spend the rest of my existence in this alien place with these visions haunting me.
From some other plane there came an insistent noise, quiet yet infuriatingly loud, comforting in its familiarity. Habit moved my hand, and the noise quieted leaving me staring at the lightening dark. The images fading slowly behind my eyes left me gazing at nothing, knowing the dreaming was gone. Emptiness flitted through my thoughts as I composed my mind into the orderly lines that regimented my days and forced myself up and out of bed.
I had stopped fighting the winds in my mind, the twisting repetitive furious gales that swirled inerrantly in the same direction. Realizing I could not stop them with the meager force of my hands, I let them pull me up, bombarding me with images and feelings one after the other as they swept me helplessly through the darkened sky of my consciousness. Unwilling to fight, I let them flood over me till I no longer knew if I was awake or dreaming.
There was a face I knew.
a name;
laughter;
dread;
horror;
dead eyes;
dead souls;
my own crippled heart;
someone’s failure;
glorious light, holy and inviting;
a door shut;
something lost;
memories slipping...
I don’t know when I understood I was dreaming or if I ever did. I passed from dreams to consciousness and back many times during the dark. The place I lay felt unfamiliar, yet familiar. Idly the thought crossed my mind that the darkness might never end. I might spend the rest of my existence in this alien place with these visions haunting me.
From some other plane there came an insistent noise, quiet yet infuriatingly loud, comforting in its familiarity. Habit moved my hand, and the noise quieted leaving me staring at the lightening dark. The images fading slowly behind my eyes left me gazing at nothing, knowing the dreaming was gone. Emptiness flitted through my thoughts as I composed my mind into the orderly lines that regimented my days and forced myself up and out of bed.
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