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
Friday, February 27, 2009
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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