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View Full Version : During love and hope - a daydream.



MYHEARTISUNDEAD
December 29th, 2010, 09:22 PM
Warning - Grim material

Nursing a slight hangover, and being quietly observed by the cookie monster and her helper, I am writing this little article under different pretenses than usual. But no matter, I will deliver some first class ho-ho-hoing and chimney surfing all in the spirit of the great commercial sham. The annual facade we all know and love arrived like a grim capitalist cuckoo clock leaping out of it's perch wielding a machete, knifing me in the neck and kicking me in the teeth, reaching into my pocket to mug what little wealth I have.
Fortunately enough for the devil sitting on my shoulder screaming revenge, there are some colossal moths that have been feeding on the bank notes inside my wallet for 2 decades now. They fluttered out and quickly dispatched of that crazed cuckoo while I slowly bled to death on the floor.

As my memories fade, as every bodily process that kept me alive consecutively shuts down and I draw my last breath, a blinding light obscures my vision until all the colour, all the varying shades and tones that I once took for granted are flooded by a brilliant white. Gone. But for how long? I didnt know, nor care. The mute quarrels of troubled eyes, the once potent questions that riddled the most simple of interactions were now irrelevant. In some final moments of clarity, using the last slivers of thought processing, a strange silence and sense of peace registered and rippled from the shallows to the depths of my brain. This place I had found myself in, this sanctum for my mind was like a naive body of water, untainted by the kinetic elements that rage around it, undisturbed by the trials of existance. The busy emotions, the cause and effect of daily modern life did not thrive here. They were simply not permissable.

I am still; and a tranquility has surpassed all senses, all forms of conciousness and brain function, until there is nothing left but rest and harmony. I am alpha, I am omega, I am all and yet I am nothing. I am the wind that rustles the leaves, the rain that sustains the Earth and the soil under your feet. I am timeless, a lost soul, floating along the stream of life. Death, finally has me in his skeletal grip. His extremities are strange to me, in that they are graceful in nature, reaching out like a man does for his lover. Cold and calculating he is not as I have been lead to believe, travelling along the paths of life, forced to adopt the unwanted offspring of fear. A boney thumb and forefinger are poised above my torso, assuming a delicate balancing act like the hands of a scientist prying the cherished results from a grim and unspeakable experiment.
(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cyb9SkIofWs/TROlunLJQjI/AAAAAAAAAKI/MWDoBooquXg/s1600/disturbed_face.jpg)
But as we know all too well, experiments do not always go to plan. Pouring through the fingers of the reaper like sand, my soul was seemingly meant for different undertakings because soon the flawless white that has come to represent my serenity starts slowly turning. Although perceptively impossible to distinguish, the wash of white is none the less now spinning. Like fate skipping a stone across my undisturbed and lifeless waters, the sanctity is gone. I must move on. My senses and everything considered characteristics of a sentient being were lost to me an unmeasurable time ago and yet I, and everything, is spiraling at an escalating momentum. Down and down, nausiatingly so, as if I were tumbling forever along an endless flight of stairs; or even falling from the great sky itself. The menacing congregration of wisps and vapors that inhabit this vast horizon look on, taunting my predicament, jeering at my peril as I plummet into the darkness. What fate belongs to me when I reach the end of this abyss? What happens when this bizarre spinning that consumes the everything of my nothing comes to an end?

It seems we are walking upon the creaking floors of an old and used theatre, ready for another timely stage performance. The invisible actors that lurk in the ominous shadow of the abyss were rehearsed and ready, for right on queue the sickening pace of this trip had slowed to a crawl. A black, vast and consuming nothingness had taken me in possession. If time was not lost before, it would be swallowed here, into the belly of this unrelenting beast. A year, a century, an eternity, for without time, how can one know?








Then without announcement and without pause, I started to experience it. A constant stream of different sensations overwhelming my very being. The darkness was leaking from the picture, dripping back to the oblivion from which it came.
An ocean of information was flooding the dry desolace of my mind, body and soul. I focus everything to a point. My body. I felt my body, it was perfectly still. My back was bent forward, elbows planted on a hard surface, but flat. My abdomen was rested comfortably, my legs seated in a forward position. My face was nestled safely in the palms of my hands, my nose protuding through the gap that was seperating both limbs.
A calm rinsed over the initial chaos, and I felt emotion. A content, secure happiness had offered me a shelter from the cold, and I took it with open arms. My mind drifted from its administered focus, floating along breezes of thought until it rested upon my eyes, for they were firmly shut. I exerted enough energy to gently push my eyelids up and open. Colours vibrant in nature were revealing themselves to me. Reds, blues, yellows, and then the tones I had known all too well through my arduous journey; black, white, all weaving through one another, dancing a dance that makes up just a small part of the play of life. Yes, life. I was alive. I breathe, although unaware of it until now. I inhale, deeply, the inherant wisping noise embraces my ears, my ear drum trembling in anticipation, my abdomen rising in unison as each cell is nourished. I exhale slowly, savoring each passing sensation, the sound of my breath breaking at intervals as I claw and struggle to appreciate each dying second.

A foreign noise. Laughter. A soft, subtle voice, pleasing to my ear. I slowly lowered my hands away from my face, creaking my neck up to look for the owner. Across the table sat a woman. That fair face. That elegant hair. My heart pulsed inside its confines. I smiled. My lips seperated and I murmured softly,

You.