Monday, August 30, 2010
Today, an elderly man came in holding a letter in his hand. He told me he was illiterate and couldn't read what it said. I felt bad. He showed me the letter and asked if was in the right spot as he had gone to the wrong spot before. This time he was. I put him in to see one of our Citizen Service Officers once they weren't busy. As per all things government, a wait did ensues.
I, being a wanna-be writer, am a people watcher by nature. I saw him pick up a paper and stare at it. My heart sank. Words are my life, I do not know what I would do without them. I wish there was more that I could have done for him.
It got me to thinking about what it would be like, starign a words and only seeing jibberish. Meaningleses scribbles on peices of paper, ink, and web-pages. None of us (bloggers) would be able to write out our thoughts, ideologies, poetry, prose...anything. Scary place, that world is. Are you able to imagine a world without writing, reading or words?
A world where signs, symbols mean nothing. I felt horrible. It made me realize how lucky I was to be literate. It was an enlightening experience for me...thought I would share with you all.
At the beginning of this summer a friend of mine approached me with such an opportunity. He needed a roommate. Perfect, right? Well, appearently its a lot harder than anyone expected to transfer schools. Or at least, I figured it would just be a quick clicks and bam, new school, new town, new overall. No. It took a lot longer and me finding out that my, personal, GPA is lower than I ever expect. They still took me, after some begging and pleding (I hate doing that).
After the schooling was settled it was time to find a place to live. Appearently my friend wanted a roommate with no house? Yay. It worked out for the most part. We were promised a place, but that did not work out. Two universtiy-level males, nobody likes us. We did manage to find a place, thanks my friends parents. Nice setup, hardwood floors, first floor. No stuff. The next hurdle.
Last week, I packed up my entire life. Five boxes, one rubbermaid tote(?), a coffee table, dresser, a bed and two couches (yes, I had the joy of supplying our house with stuff). The list above donated my My Mother, Inc. Depressing though, my life is the equivalent to a tiny corner of a garage. Well, first off we thought it would be a good idea to just rent a truck and drive the 12hour drive up north. Wrong. As I stated above, no one likes 20something year old university males. Plus it would have been $1500 to rent a truck, plus ferry fees (I live on an island, remember?) and gas.
Luckily, my mom is a genious and called a moving company and they are moving my stuff up there for cheap(er). That was done Saturday. I've been living out of a suitcase, sleeping on an air mattress and realizing my life is changing. Six days and counting. New school, new town, new people, new places. Needless to say, nervousness is nawing at my stomach and fear is toying with my head. New still sounds good.
[Sorry, its been awhile I have posted anything due to what is said above]
Monday, August 16, 2010
When the reflections holds no meaning
The image, turns it back and walks away.
The ripples of water push life in all directions
Forced by a rainfall of stone and timber
That face which was and is no more.
Like a child with a stick,
Attempting to draw a boat in the wave.
I reach out and only plunge deeper.
Cognition like a canablistic maze
Igniting like flame to a fistful of gasoline,
Immersed in the liquid
Eyes staring upward,
Like a saint towards the heavens,
Staring back at my reflection in the waters.
A hand, like a petal floating upon the sea,
Touched my neck with a fragile floral fingers
With the gentle touch and startle, there was silence.
A relaxation, calming, liquid emptiness.
Conversational opening like music in the water
Calling to the stones and song;
Braking the mystique between colours.
A loving gaze like that of a hypnotists pendulum,
The warming reflection of liquid over head.
Cavernous doorways exit the mind
Swallowing glass, winged seraph burning angel.
Nine clouds hidding among the oak.
Behind us lies a burning gate,
Opened like love to envy,
Ashes to embers, dust to stone.
A record player spinning without a pin
Chess pieces move themselves, in endless stalemate.
Reflections in a mirror of time's passing.
The looking glass, like a soul stands between,
Two burning chariots, like titans clashing.
Washed sand against the diamond shores;
Shimmers of abstract landscapes
Reflection but exist within each grain of dust
Like airy existance shattered by dreams.
It was the realization that exists
Within the reflections that holds the desires.
Her eyes pulling me towards
Like a hand on your back,
Pushing towards the ripples in my head.
An opening in the canablistic maze,
Her arms and mine
In a dreamscape,
born entirely of mind and soul.
Her touch like petals
Floating above the water,
Her lips as cool as liquid.
Tears like teases,
An ending in eternity
Like a saint staring at the heavens.
Friday, August 6, 2010
He stood at the edge of the apartments roof, his jacket was blowing in the wind. His gleaming eyes stared out over the city and imagined falling down. He inhaled. Mind racing like a clock being wound backwards. His eyes scanned the streets below, headlights and tire squeals echoed inside his ears. He could feel the slightly polluted air brush against his face as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled.
The exhaled smoke clouded his young face. A soft, femine hand ran up his backand under his hood. The hand stopped and rested on his shoulder blade, sending a noticable shiver down his spine. The sound of heels echoed and stopped next to him. With glazed eyes he turned his head and eyed her up a girl next to him, bottom to top. Her heels lifted her small body 2 inches off the ground, allowing her to stand eye-level to him. Her heels extended her soft, smoothly glistening legs into a short, crimson cocktail dress.
Her hand stayed resting on his back. Long dark hair covered her face from veiw. Moving her hand down his right arm to his hand she took the cigarette with no resistance. Lifting it to her lips, unvieling a perfectly symetrical face, her lips were accented by dark red lip stick and her eyes, although closed were naturally accented and beautiful.
Dark skies void of stars created a back drop for her exhaled smoke. She smiled and placed the cigarette back in between his fingers. Placing a hand on his shoulder she kissed his cheek. The sound of her black heels moving behind him, as she moved sides. Her voice was pitched as an angel singing hymms to the gods. He turned to face her as she began to stare at the world below that so facinated him. She was smiling at him, as he looked at her.
"Psyche, don't bother." he said quickly cutting her off. "Your words wil not convince me to return."
Her smile faded, as she walked behind him back to his other side. Her hand brushing against him, her hair blowing in the wind. She took his hand in hers and looked into his eyes. Moving her body closer to his, she placed his arm around her neck and pressed against him. Running her hand against his stomach like a seducer in a bar.
"Darling, you know there isn't anything we can do. They've forgotten us." She looked below with disgust.
The sound of a pigeon jumping down off of a fence rang in the air behind them. He took another drag on his cigarette, exhaling to the side. He looked at her, emotionless. Her eyes were like liquid as his were empty, a wasteland that had given up hope, content to stay empty like a veteran returning from his last tour. He knew she spoke the truth despite the aching in his chest. She tried to stare at him lovingly despite his emptiness.
With anger she pushed off of him, the sound of leather filled the silence on the roof, as she sighed "Babe, you can't just stand up here and watch them like a hawk waiting for its prey..."
Taking another drag on his smoke, he breathed out "And why not Psyche? Why not? They used to look to us, use to understand and know that we are here. How could they just forget us like this?" the smoke clouded around his eyes. "Do they not fear us anymore?"
She looked down at them. A car's break lights lit up as it stopped for the stop light. She watched as a young lady walking by herself got her purse stolen, and the man running down the streets vanishing from sight down a dark alleyway. She scuffed at the material obsessions, she coughed. That air tasted stale, "Why should they fear us, Cupid? They have each other to be fearful of."
He took another drag, ignoring her. He kicked some dirt around on the roof, with black leather boots. He tossed his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. Behind them a rusted metal fence stood, blocking an electrical box and stopping anyone from saving the man on the sticker from a lightning bolt. The roof was covered in sand and gravel, there were fans running and some large pipes for air ventilation for the apartments below them.
In shadows of the perimeter, lay a two black masses, one slightly smaller than the other. Her heels clicked as she moved nearer to him. She was furious with his stubbornness. She grab his hand and reached in to the pocket of his jacket. Pulling out the pack of Cigarette's, the box had a blue strip along the top holding the name written in white. Emerging from his pocket as well, locked between her fingers, was his lighter, bright orange like the sun.
Leaning to him again "I know you know there isn't any place like home...." She kissed is cheek, her attempt at coersion.
"This is my home now. It is the only place that makes sense anymore." he looked in her hands.
"This? This glorified abstraction of a place?" She spat, like a baseball player chewing tabaco.
He steped away. Turning to find the moon in the sky that night. Her sigh echoed amongst the metal pipes. He ignored her yet again. He pointed to the moon, shinning silvery grey beams of light down on the city muffled by streetlamps and headlights. The sleeve of his dark leather jacket pulled up as he raised his arm, revealing a tatoo of angel wings on the top of his wrist.
"Look at that Psyche. You do not get that view from home." he admired it not lowering his pointing finger.
"Thats because that might as well be home." She looked up at, clearly unimpressed.
She attempted to walk away, heading towards the doorway which leads down the stairwell into the apartment building. He quickly grabbed her, sliding his left arm around her waist and pulled her back into him. Wrapping his other arm around her, he faced them towards the moon. Gorgeous. Standing behind her, he held her tightly. "Look at it, its beautiful." He whispered to her, before kissing her.
Her eyes looked at it, and shook her head. Nothing. He's lost it. She thought to herself, lighting herself a cigarette. Exhaling the smoke up into his face, she maneuvered out of his arms and faced him. "There's nothing here for me anymore Cupid. This pointless." She tossed the cigarette down to the ground stepping on it as she bolted towards the door.
Still mesmerized by the moon, he caught her leaving out of the peripherals. "Sweetheart, wait up!" He called to her, following her slowly.
"These mortal bodies are fragile, where's the keys to your place?" She called back, not turning to face him.
The light of the stairwell, saw nothing but two shillohette's gliding down the stairs to the 2nd floor. Otherwise empty and silent, the hospital white walls yawned with the buzzing of luminecent lights. The shadows at the edge of the perimeter of the roof began to fade with each step they made towards the bottom. Each foot step echoed with the light click of heels and the booming of leather boots on concrete. The endagering echo of a metal door slamming was the last that was heard before the stairwell emptied and the walls fell back into slumber.
"There is nothing colder than a love lost. Not the icy winds of the north, nor the million year old ice of the south. Life lasts because love exists, even if we can't find it. Once we swallow our shallow ends does love begin to flow, like a dam's door being opened to find a lake staring at it." - Authors Note 33
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
We spill our thoughts
From an empty glass
We attempt the Tale
With empty words
We whisper to our kin
These empty promises
Leave us feeling full.
"We all have the compacity to lie, to do ill, to bring down another, it is the people that do that show us what would happen if that capacity was acted upon." - Authors Note 61
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The sun shone onto the rocks below,
Reflecting like a child with a mirror.
Roses leaned in as if to pray,
Gods of ever witness to their plea,
Swollen petals fell, wilted.
A pond as clear as glass,
Held its ground to the wind
Filled like an empty tea-cup.
The sands of time strain its tears,
As we chase tomorrow,
Like a lover lost to yesterday.
"Have you ever seen a broken heart beat?
It will beat until all the cracks are gone;
Like a blacksmith above a forge."
A voice in the Dark,
The shadows before me,
Female, soft, smooth and eloquent.
From the darkness below,
Shimmering whispers echo
Like a robin perched at morning.
The walls began to erode,
Falling away under myself,
Her cooling embrace swelled around.
Her voice: a calling in song,
Empty as a smile from a Stranger.
Her hand upon my shoulder;
She whispered as a serpent to its prey,
“I love you, everything will be okay”
Caught in the shadow of her tongue.
A forgotten soul
Trapped in the darkness
Her aching breath freezes the beating heart.
I sat alone as the world turned,
Watched as the sun fell below
And all elegance fell away.
"It is not until the world ends will we see the mistakes we've made." - Authors note 43