Whose dream is it?
I have a dresser
It's tan and green
It's full of clothes
Shorts, t-shirts, pants...socks..
A tie die shirt, with dolphins
A shirt with a rattlesnake on the back
It says "I ate rattlesnake at the hole in the wall"
Phoenix Arizona
There's a small bookshelf next to my bed...
Harry potter
Dorling Kindersley
National Geographic magazines.
A copy of "The Hobbit"
With a note written by my uncle
A Gameboy Color in a yellow case...
Red, Blue, Yellow...
A binder of Pokemon cards
Homework due tomorrow.
An essay, written in pencil.
A math test tomorrow...makes me worry.
I was 13 years old
I dreamed of the future.
I went to bed.
I opened my eyes in the morning...I turn over
I'm 34 years old
My knees hurt
My hands hurt
My eyes hurt
I don't feel good.
This life really is some kinda dream...
But whose dream is it?
Dance of the Metaphysical
Without the Future
We cannot plan
Without the Past
We cannot remember
Without the Now
We cannot live
The Holy Trinity
Of the Human Being
The blessing and the curse
Of all men
Tis a dance of time
A dance of spirit
A dance of mind
Who will lead you?
Will you forever prepare
For the storm that never comes?
Will you forever mourn
That which you have lost?
Will you dance here in the now
Deaf
Dumb
And blind
To either horizon?
It is the ability, to dip a toe into the past
To peer into the waters
Yet not allow the ghosts of yesterday
To drag you down into their frigid depths.
To peer through the tall grass, into the fields of tomorrow
You may see a lion
Yet don't be paralyzed
He does not see you yet
You have time to prepare
You are hidden beneath the shade of Now
Farewell tomorrow
I will see you
Yesterday
Broken
What do I scream when words fail
There are no words
There are no words that can express, the utter, absolute
Desperation.
I am breaking
There is no part of me that functions well
Everything is broken
I can't punch or push away at the walls
The hands, the arms, the legs
Are all mangled, bloody messes
What is the meaning of this
You exist to fight
But you only lose
Fight, fight, fight!
All you do is get knocked back down
With more scars, more pain
More broken bones
Enflamed flesh
The life of a man alone
To be misunderstood
To be uncared for
To be abandoned
To be expected to fight, regardless
For no reason
For no reward
For no purpose
Just fight, 'till death
Thanks
F*** you
Dear Father
You said you missed hearing from me
You said it's been too long...
Why is it
That you think you deserve a son
If I don't deserve a father?
You were never there for me
And now you...want...what from me?
Who are you again?
Both of my parents
Want to cry on my shoulders.
You want me to carry you?
Who will carry me?
As I sit here...waiting
I don't know what's real anymore
Ten years
Twelve years...
Everything
Everything is unbearable
When you're alone
A whisper is a hurricane
What is pain?
If there is a G-d
Why does he create things
That desire, and need and want
With time limits and restraints.
I'm running out of time...
There must be a way, to skip to the end
Good Lord i'm tired.
What sort of penance is this?
What did I do
To deserve this?
I think I've decided to run to the end
To spite you.
How dare you make me
How dare you make me like this
And leave me.
I'll run to the end
So I can spit in your face.
I'm no coward
I'll do my time
Telluride
Where's my G-d damn gun
I take a deep breath
Rubbing my aching eyes
A greasy rag on the table
Red, dark red....maroon
Blood and oil
Damn it...
I see the shape of my revolver underneath and snatch it out
Roughly holstering it on my hip.
I pull out the chair, and sit down
Groaning at the stiffness in my knee
*sigh*....
The room is dark, but for a small window high on the back wall
A simple window
A single pane
Grimy and smeared
I pull my gun from it's holster
Running a hand along the slick, cold, metal
The bond between a man and his gun
Between a man, and his tools
It's what separates us from the animals
It's what separates us from them
It's what keeps us alive
That's what he used to say
Damn at least I think so
It's been so long...
I rest my face on my hand for a moment
Feeling the scruff
How did I get here?
How did it get so bad?
*sniff*
I rise to my feet, taking my coat from the wall.
The feeling of arms entering sleeves
Clothing is the only embrace you're gonna get
It's the only embrace you deserve.
I check the cylinder, give it a spin
Lock it in
One in the chamber
*sigh*...alright
And so it begins
Once again...
Take me back
Do you know what the end is?
Have you been there?
Have you been...
Beyond it?
I pray for the end
Trudging through the snow
Through the ashes of this world
Often I have dreams
Dreams of men who fall
Laying in mangled bloody heaps on the ground
Contorted
You can see their final painful gasps
The terror in their open eyes
I have dreams of things
Things that follow me
Walking
Stumbling after me
Strange, broken things
With long, wet, matted black hair
With inhuman faces
And footsteps of blood and water.
I dreamt last night
That I was the monster
I broke and battered
Brutalized
Ruined their bodies
With my own hands
I recoiled at the sight
Though I continued
As though it were my job
Is it, my devil?
My own, personal devil?
G-d why did you make me?
G-d why did you create me...
If only to suffer
What is my purpose here?
I can't do this anymore
Please tell me
Is the end near?
I just want to go home.
The winter is long
I sit beside the window.
The snow is a silent bed
Blanket for the trees
It is perfect and white
Untouched
Not a hare has tramped through
I hear a crow give it's raspy call
*Craw* *Craw* *Craw* *Craw*
It repeats
The sun is so bright
But...diffused
Somehow
Softened, and scattered
The light comes not from one direction
Simply, everything is bright
Clear, crisp, sharp
Like the cold
My hands hurt
I miss my family
The winter
Is long.
Look...
Let's be perfectly honest...
Do you really think you can give humans the power of free will
And not expect this to happen?
I mean, look...
You made me, right?
How...in the name of you
Could this not be your fault?
If I build a car, and the car breaks down after the first mile
Is it the car's fault?
I made the damn thing!
You made me, SPECIFICALLY with the fatal flaw of imperfection
PLUS free will.
Honestly I'd say that's criminal negligence
It's almost as if you planned this to happen
You're almost as bad as those mothers who keep their children sick to get attention.
Is that what I am to you?
Did you make us just so you can play the victim card to all your friends like..
"Oh poor me...look, the humans have committed another genocide!"
Man...honestly just pay me now
We can settle this between us
How much cash do you have on you?
Me
I'm not sure actually.
Really, I have an interesting perspective on this.
Most of my family are Democrats, Feminists, the whole nine yards.
I was raised the same way.
Went to a liberal college, made liberal friends.
But when I got out of the bubble of fantasy that is the American University
I had a bit of an awakening.
There's an old saying, that goes something like...
A Republican is a Democrat who got mugged by reality.
So I got woke, from the dream of leftism.
It wasn't so much that I preferred Republicans
It was that I suddenly saw....everywhere
How the Democrat mindset was ruining
Everything.
As a result, I now see the majority of my family as lost and brainwashed
Immature children
Who live in a fantasy
Yet they seem to see me in the same way.
Which, for obvious reasons can make it hard to relate to one another.
So....really
They would be the ones to not invite me to Thanksgiving
Though they still do
Really it is I, who declines
I'm the one who doesn't "invite" them
Instead I visit my extended family,
Who aren't constantly virtue-signaling, or calling things racist and sexist.
People who understand the pain of life, and don't shy away from it.
They are unpretentious, honest...
And they live here and now.
Not in some apocalyptic future
Or some shameful past.
I'm thankful for that.
Happy Thanksgiving