Friday, September 16, 2011

Nostalgia. Melancholy. Regret. These things seem to be overwhelming my life as of late and I can't help but think of why it's so overwhelming. I'll go on Facebook and look at all of these people doing all of these things to gain recognition or to prove something and I'm usually with them but every now and then I step back and ask, "Is it worth it?" I try to think about how far from reality we've all gotten because everyone knows reality is too hard to cope with so we all have our means to escape from it. Our ways of not going crazy from all of the work we all have to do. The bullshit we put up with just to survive. As of late, I tend to escape more than face reality and I realise it's cowardly but at the same time I also don't care. I feel like I'm slowly nearing the edge of a cliff that careens downwards toward the only thing that you get out of so much self-destruction...whatever that may be. I don't know. My friend is really hurting. The girl that hurt him loves me and I can't do anything about that so I try to run away from it but I can't go really go to anyone but here I am typing this at a girls house who's sleeping soundly next to me at the moment. I don't love this girl that's sleeping next to me. She's a great friend but nothing more than that in my mind even though we've done things...scents of a past time flood through my first first love...time washes away everything and we can't do anything about it but watch it go by and wish that you could have stayed a little longer...just a little longer...sitting at a park with Veronica. People with kids at the other end quickly turn their kids' heads the other way and scurry in the other direction as we make out. We notice this and laugh. The vision morphs out and fades into Christmas with Alex and Chad and her parents. We're all singing Christmas carols before we open presents. There's a certain warm charm about Bill and Ieva that I've always liked and...morphs out again and fades into a gold-brown prius driving down south on highway 101. I look around and Mara is sleeping, using my lap as a pillow. I stroke her hair and just admire her for who she is. I chuckle to myself. She's so intelligent but so insane. It's like that tiny body can't contain it all so every now and then she just temporarily snaps and laughs hysterically over nothing while I just sit there watching, laughing because she's laughing. She looks so...peaceful. So pure and good...morph out again...I'm sitting on the green couch in Alexs living room looking over a poem that she wrote about me when I first broke up with her. I was already feeling like crap considering I just broke up with Mara. The poem doesn't help...I curl up on the couch and wish life had a restart button. I wish none of this had happened...take me back to my apartment on Cochrane road. In my room. All of my posters. My things. The horribly stained carpet from god knows what. The lingering scent of cherry tobacco. The scent of my cologne. Sitting in my spinning chair I'd think of what sort of trouble I could get into today and knowing that there wasn't any huge consequence if I got caught. Not that I ever thought I could get caught. I was much too cocky to think of such a thing. I've gotten myself into a huge mess now and I'm sure their will be consequences for them but after running away from myself for a week and a half now I've decided to stop running and own up to what I've done. Starting today. Even if it ends up costing me the friendship of two of my greatest friends...which it most likely will.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Creation, Destruction

The matte black dragon swooped over the castle keep and flew high into the red sky and let out a mighty roar that shook the world below. In a tower, oh so very far away, a fireplace that never dies illuminates a study that’s been left still for too long. Dust has collected in a fine thin layer over books, shelves, desks, old parchment. A single window looks out to a great lake below reflecting moonbeams from the lovely pale Luna high in the sky. The elements of Fire and Water, forever at war, turning and swirling in the sky above the great lake, balancing the world by means of an intricate dance, once known by man but now lost to time. A lone sentry at his post with a white shield and gown, devoted and  never without honor and courage.  Always at his post and forever unquestionably guarding a white room for which no man comes out of. He looks into the distance and sees a soldier in silver armor walking through the trees carrying the battered helmet of his son, lost in battle. He’s accompanied by some sort of spirit. Perhaps the soldier’s son walking beside his father assuring him safe passage home, wherever home may be now. The soldier isn’t weeping, no, he doesn’t need to. His eyes say everything and before the sentry could study him more, the soldier is lost out of sight never to be seen again. On another planet, somewhere far away, a small creature with large eyes and odd garb looks up and sees a sliver of light silently descend closer and closer to the creature until the unknown object is hovering almost straight above the perplexed figure. The creature stares at it and points not knowing what ever to make of it just knowing that now it should be asking a lot more questions about everything. The dragon makes his descent and thunders down towards the castle, the study starts to slowly shake and tremble, shaking the dust that’s been left undisturbed for so long. The opposing elements that are both friends and adversaries, finish their dance. The small silver spaceship, knowing that it’s presence of just being there has now done the job of opening up a new species’ eyes, starts to fly away just as silently as it left. The sentry hears a noise and he does something he’s never done before. Putting up his guard, shield and sword in hand, trusting familiar and strong in his hands, the sentry turns to look in the white room. A knife, much larger than the sentry has ever seen pierces through the door and slices through the sentry and the knife drags its razor sharp edge through all worlds in one fell slice. The dragon, unable to change course, flies right into the gash in it’s world and is lost forever in one dying scream of rage and fire. The UFO loses control and is pulled into it. The little odd creature, bewildered, it’s mind desperately trying to make sense of yet another strange and frightening new thing, runs Inside his home with the delusion of safety. The planet immediately begins to crumple in on itself. Walls fall in towards each other and bend in odd angles. The quake increases in strength and a log rolls out of the fireplace and all of the study, filled with timelessly old books and parchment, is now up in roaring flames licking the sides of the walls and engulfing ancient tomes and sacred words in it’s merciless crave. The elements are thrown off of course and blindly fly off in different directions and the forests start to melt into puddles of green and brown color. The world, tattered, sliced, scorched and melted finally is still and slowly starts to lose it’s color and fade away. The sentry is all that’s left now. Lying in a white void, panting and dying. The floor was of a coarse fabric underneath him but sticky with blood. For the last moments in his world, he looks up and sees a kid with long black hair holding a razor, weeping over his fallen Sentry. In the sentry’s last dying breath he whispers, “You will learn one day that destruction is a form of creation and I will be back one day, stronger than ever to serve as the guardian of your imagination once more…in time.” And with that his eyes closed, he chest fell still and he himself began to melt. His face turned unrecognizable and distorted. The sword and shield lost their durability and strength and finally the sentry was no more than a puddle of red and white paint and faded away just as his world did. And everything was silent.