| 2-25-02 Oblivion I've been to the brink. Staring into nothing is a scary prospect. Being inside a black hole is beyond words. Having no clue where you are, what you are doing, who is around you, whether you will ever get out. There is nothing to compare anything to, nothing to orient yourself by, nothing to do nothing. All black, but even black loses meaning. It just is not. Ceases to be. And while the mind tries to fathom nothing, inside and out, it starts to believe that there is nothing out there. No absolutes. Negation in it's purest form, only without creation to bring it all back. I would imagine that maybe some people might think this is what it is like to die, but unfortunately this is how a lot of people live. I do not know how I escaped from the nothing, in fact I am still not sure if I am out of it completely. Black spots exist where there once was vibrancy and life, and as I slowly remember the memories themselves begin to turn black. It seems in mixing the black and whites into greys, I have drawn in so many abstracts that it has turned the grey into black. I started to open my eyes, only to find the world around me as changed. Or maybe it was I who had changed the world. Either way the snow fell, the lights turned out, and I found myself in the middle of the dance floor with my arms stretched out, grasping. A rope appeared, evidently from nowhere, and I am pulling myself up, or sideways. Nothing is not so bad, if all you are used to is nothing. But losing everything dulls the soul and allows the mind to roam free. I am back to reclaim my posessions, and claim new ones in the name of the future. I am here to state that the numbing effects of the world have taken their toll, but I am still standing strong. For I still am myself, and you can never take that away from me. The light will come again, in it's many different forms, and then I will be able to see things can turn out for the better. 3-18-02 Sky Open the door. I�m standing outside, all dressed up and poised to come through. I can see the light shining through and I am ready to embrace it. Every one has moved from their places above and below, and in my sight I see the goal. Can you not tell that we are on the brink? The brink always calls us; the end of the world is just around the corner. And seconds before eternity ends, time stops, and existence is called back, somehow balance is restored. In reality, there is no end. Just a constant pinging back and forth of the irrelevant and inconsequential. Waiting. If it�s all been planned out beforehand, it is because around the bend of a circle there is another curve. Is being human having enough in common? As we build upwards towards the diamond in the sky and fly together on the cloud of bliss, remind me never to look down. I cannot escape. I�m going to walk through and smile. The circle will continue to go around as planned. And I will be walking forwards in the light. My mind is empty and yet it is running. It is running on the fumes of the past, and yet the past is dead essentially. The present that is happening and falling to the dead is being recycled as I breathe again, think again, and talk again. Underneath I can tell you the stories that make up my life, but I need a fire to be set inside of me to make them feel alive. I need to know that out there things work, and falsity will go by the waste side. But above all as I go through the days, and bring the fresh spring air and see the rose petals start to bloom; I can see that life is beautiful. New beginnings are out there waiting at every corner, and it only takes the willingness to say yes to life. Jump in the river and let it take you away to a part of the world which you have never been, and when you finally poke your head up for air, remember that the air you are breathing has been around the world and back again. You are just its next stop on its way to helping so many continue to make the most out of what they have been given. Hold your head up high. For knowledge is great and the world has much to offer. 04-03-02 Clay i want to burn my lips, i want to frost my tips, i want to release it all. it's not worth it to be angry any more. i have to pack all of my mental belongings and move from the scene of the accident, or accidents and forget it. and then watch my step to make sure that around the corner peril does not stand. a circle of trust, a circle of lies, patterns keep repeating and i am stuck in the middle. time must become linear, unique events in which fate is reversed and time thrown upon it's side. freedom at times can be worse than slavery...the safety of the box inside of your head of which no one has the key seemest safest in the place that it was born. away in the real world, people can probe and prod and pandora can rear her ugly head. in and out, a balance must be reached. how to put on a facade to the outside which truly represents the calm nature that one presided, and at the same time have a look in your eyes searching for clues and possibly help. admit nothing. raise your circle above you and dwell inside while others question. you will know the answer in time. huddled up against the fire, trying to keep warm as night arrives you ponder the stars. each is unique, like snowflakes or every single human. but it takes thousands of them for one to even be noticed, and even then the memory melts away until the next time darkness falls. in name but not in essence, in opinion but not in fact, in denial but never seeking the truth. taken to a horrible place of your own creation, you can only just sit and marvel at the horror of imagination. the flower from a field of childhood, a teacher whom you had long forgotten, screaming and yelling that had long been muted. Sounds never die, they just continue to ripple until eventually they become large enough where another sound replies back. and the reply is larger and cruder than the original. and so it goes. the circle will be broken, my covenant and savior appears in mind. in reality, she walks among mortals. it does not take a lot to remind us that death stalks around the corner. what people often forget is that if they are not too careful, life may sneak up behind them too. it is not real. i cannot speak. take it inside and bury it. my guts will sit with fallacy and soul lifted up beyond the dirt. i vow to know truth. it is duty. |