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Writer
Join Date: Feb 2005
Posts: 30
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Lucid Nights - P2
This is an add on for my first post, its very short. Part 1 is what I originally posted, Part 2 is the new stuff.
So this is the piece in Part 1
Dead fireflies in the sky. The starlight breaks, a torn crew of motley beggars and miscreant rebels, on the sidelines is a grieving disconsolate mother, acrid stench of aged piss, and the stains of cheap cigarettes. A hooker on the corner bends over, red lips, tight ass, transparent high heels, shes bargaining with one of the lower castes of society. A flashing neon sign lights upon another group of panting monkies as they drag their knuckles across the bloodied cement.
A lopsided TV blinks under the cover of a department store. -Click*- Channel 14 News Team with Kelly Roberts, top story is, Was Matt Damon sleeping with his mother? Other stories, President Bush admits there were no weapons of mass destruction in a recent UN address, "...with more recent bombings on US soldiers, however, its important we continue this difficult war on terrorism." Also, early ballots lost in first election in Iraq. Our other top story is, Mariah Carey, woman, or man?! -Click*-
Twisted paper wrappings branded with the M logo, a schizophrenic wanders the parking lot of a local grocery store. He stops a boy to ask the time, explains that his mother is dying in a hospital, "She has beautiful chestnut hair, like yours." Med student top in his class's, miss's a family in Arkansas, his mother has beautiful chestnut hair. "I saw the Widowmaker launch, one of the few men to see it." Mother has beautfiul chestnut hair. Finally the man stops, stares into the boy, and asks, "Are you done with me yet?"
The mans eyes reveal a raw glimpse into his soul, frightened and confused, lost and wondering why, but not what. Why? I do not know what, I only know that there is a why, only felt, that forces me up in the night to walk down to the railroad tracks in search of solitude, the why that stays your weariness and blossoms into dreams to bring to surface all your unfocused emotions. The same why that takes me out into my backyard to see all those dead fireflies in the sky. Moonlight glancing off of a liquid breath, trees that whisper like poetry in your ears, soft grass to carry you to immortality. All of those fireflies in the sky, so many. So many fading, fading, fading... Gone. And for what, to what purpose? But why?
Part 2
Wind flipping my hair and I'm trying so hard to fall, trying so hard to reach those dead fireflies in the sky. In the darkness I hear life stir, no, its been stirring, I only just now have finally noticed. I lift my arms dropping to my knees, the power in me is screaming to be released, to be let out into the ether. Something moist crawls down my cheek, tears. The force in me is stronger, greater...
-Ahh!- I curl my knees into my chest and raise my head, -what the fuck was that...- Confusion floats through my mind as I try and get a grip on my dream, /or was it a nightmare...?\ -Ahh shit, its gone.- I sigh and set my back up against the wall, headlights flash on my window. Weariness having evaded me I throw a leg off my bed and push myself up. I glance over to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, but everything simply blends together to create something larger than myself. A yawn escapes my throat as I begin pulling on my jeans, socks etc. I snatch up my coat and walk out the door.
A pool of orange light illuminates my walk. Dimly I'm aware of my destination, the railroad tracks. Some houselights are on, like the glowing eyes of some fanged, unknowable creature, fencegates creaking malevolently. There's my friend Mikes house, silent and empty of light, he is my friend, but its a dim connection, like hearing from a highschool buddy after a long time. I turn my head away.
The railroad tracks materialize before me like steps to oblivion or maybe salvation. Destruction or rebirth. Different and same. What really distinguishes the two is my fear of one over the other. Only in relinquishing everything can you truly change. Oh, but the terror in change. In real change you dont know if its good, or if its bad; if its a little bit, or a lot. All you know is that something is there, like standing on the precipice of a cliff and looking down into blackness. Something is down there, some amazing life-altering thought or substance. What happens if I jump? How will I catch myself? What if I need help? Where is my softly playing music, or that mellow voice, my other self to hold my hand? Where among this world of creaking fences and false pools of light, flashing headlights, cold cement do I find myself? What do I hold on to when revelation, and realization, and life-altering transformation come crashing through my pysche? Or, rather, when it bursts out from my pysche.
The trees tower around me, standing on both sides of the tracks. Orange light illuminates one end of the road, and darkness envelopes the other way. Safety in one, something I both hate and love. Down the other, I know not. Only the wind can guide me down that other path. I sense the stars above me and something in me cracks. I fall to my knees, my arms lifting up. My chest tightens as forces inside me struggle to breakthrough. Mist spirals around the trees and raindrops of iridescent light patter around me. Something approaches me. It walks on 4 legs, but as it nears me, somehow it turns into 3 legs. As it stops next to me I realize it has two legs, I look blearily into its face. My own hazel eyes stare back at me. Moistness creeps its way down my face or rather the image of myself, I think I'm crying. -Why are you crying?- I ask. The image stops. I can see something blossoming in those eyes and slowly it speaks, "I think, I understand." Its eyes radiate contentment, I cant help but smile, and let go. Spiraling into the stars like a diver, arms outstretched and falling. Up, I'm falling up. Below me I watch the image of myself disappear into darkness along with the streetlights, and the porchlamps, the cars, and the cities. Everything blends together to create something larger, like gazing into a dark mirror. I'm going to join the dead fireflies in the sky.
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