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xxNDMDQxx

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Time Sees...

4 min read

Walking, trudging, simply feet moving. Long days were rare to the short day he had had, sleeping most the day away until there was nothing more than darkness and himself. He wasn’t a night owl, nor a day bird looking for a worm. He didn’t fall with a name or a label that he chose to call his own, he just was in existence and nothing more.

 

The train station was quiet, just the rain pouring down on him as he waited for something to come by and pick him up. He would look around to see all the people rushing about like there was an emergency to be tended to. Maybe they saw their loved one, another going off to war, yet another getting ready to visit a new town where no one knew their name and no one cared to.

 

He wondered if the last one wanted to get lost in a world unlike his own. It was like flying far away to a place unknown… To become anew as if the shell now never existed. He could wander streets and watch children play. He could touch the vegetables at the market and never have been caught stealing before. His face would be something few would remember, not an imprint on a single soul…Just a vague description with a hat on top.

 

Then what of the second one? Had it been the draft that pulled him away? Was he running from someone? What if he would become the most famous of the famous? He could be a hero, or he could be no one. He could be the one sitting to waste away in the foxhole as his comrades ceased to fire their weapons or die of some seemingly incurable disease to be nothing but decomposition in the ground. Did he have family that would miss him? Or was he an orphan that felt like his singular purpose was to please someone? Please himself, please no one…he would be gone, and maybe a face forgotten, too, with time.

 

Then of the first. It had been a loved one. They kissed their face as sweet sorrow ran down. It looked like it had been awhile – two months and fifteen days, to be exact. Visiting a family for a wedding. Now why had the lover not gone too? There was a moment where the runner’s face fell as the other explained. Hidden was the runner. Not a soul could know. It wasn’t the hug that was so encouraging. It wasn’t the kiss upon the lips so plump as a peach. It wasn’t the smile, nor the touch of the hair. It was the admission that life would be okay, that they had each other, and that was enough.

 

And as the faces went by one by one, they all had a story that only a few heard. Just as the soles of their shoes had felt many things but simply wore on…Life was that way as Time waited for nothing and no one.  Time never knew when he stopped for someone, though, so he reaped minutes while leaving some to live. Those lived minutes were quiet minutes that few felt touched their hearts. Some didn’t take the precious and run away with him until he disappeared in their hands and they had only begun to run.

 

The eras phased in and out before the man’s very sockets as he saw himself being spent fruitfully and futilely by the masses who would find their place in the ocean or in mother earth. The man had gone to war, the lover was kept away, and the other found himself lost in the crowd. But they all had something in common, see. They found their lives not wasted in the material that drowned the populace, spent deliberately with reasons that only they so cherished. They became someone in their own respect, someone they wanted to be and go places they wanted to go. Self-actualized and self-governed. Nothing told them of what was okay – they were simply deaf to it all, following their whims and all that they loved. It was a path paved of their own, one that they could love.

 

The train never came and the man never left. He held onto his suitcase and onto his hat. He did exist but without a name and without a label. No one could catch him, he simply was intangible.

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Hush darling.

10 min read

Her eyes opened and world was right side up once more. Almost like she had taken a nap in this huge field of tall, wild grass. The warmth of the yellow shoots heated her skin to a near burning temperature, yet she was homeostatic.  She pushed off the ground, the feathers of the grass tickling the soft skin of her palms. There was a peace in the atmosphere unfelt before, like the breeze was washing away everything that ever went wrong in her life. Cleansing her of her mistakes, freeing her from the guilt, the sorrow...The serenity was a blanket coming to keep her alive, in her mind, in her soul. To let her roam a spirit untouched, a spirit unsullied.

 

The figure bent down to pluck the remaining grass from her skin, itching at the surface where the mark was. Had she been lying there for a long while? It had to have be so, or she wouldn’t have the imprint. She pushed her curled tresses behind her shoulder, then straightened her dress so it hung just meeting the tips of her kneecaps. To the left, there was nothing but fields; and to the right, the yellow waves of rolled on and on as far as the eyes could see. Now just where was she?

 

The softest gasp left her lips, a dull pain pressed into the skin just below her collar bones. Was she sick? Couldn’t be. She was the image of pristine health on every level. Spiritual, physical, emotional, social, mental…She was innocent, she was clean. She was a very many things, but sick? Sick was not one of them.

 

She took a few more light steps, as if walking on the clouds that were nowhere to be seen in the sky. Perhaps they were beneath her, letting her float. She always did want to float away. She wanted to see the world from up above, imagine what it would be like to live wherever. Some nights she would stay up, her imagination running wild with thoughts of travel. So many aspirations, and so many motivations to accomplish all she desired. She had yet to grow up and actualize them—but she still had all the time in the world to do them. Plenty of time.

 

Her hands flew up to her chest as she let out a shrill screech. The pain…once more. What was going on? The bone underneath was pulsating, the thrum of energy within it unsettling. What was the sensation? Where did it come from?

 

Shaking though they were, she forced her hands to her sides as she moved to take lengthy strides again. There had to be some purpose in this. Some reason she was here, though it was plain as could be. Just another field that she saw near her home, just another maze of grass to get lost in. Had she somehow ventured here and taken a brief nap? Had she been left here by friends? The latter couldn’t be. She had no friends.

 

After a long minute of walking and notions tumbling around in her mind, it dawned on her. This was just another maze of grass to get lost in. Perhaps there was no purpose beyond getting lost. Being lost. She did feel like there was nowhere for her to be. Nowhere for her to go. Nothing she had to do. Nothing she had to be. All the world’s burdens were off in the distance, not daring to move closer. All the expectations of doing something “worthwhile” and “meaningful”—the jobs she could only hate, the jobs that fed off the existence of human life itself, the jobs that flourish in the wake of inherently flawed humanity—they were gone. Like they never were a weight on her shoulders. Never a notion.

 

The breeze whipped around her hair, sending the strands into one another to mix and mingle until there was nothing but knots that were unable to be unfurled. Was this it? Was this all that she had now? Or perhaps this was a dream, a dream that seemed to last longer than the average. Maybe her body was fully regenerating, bolstering the bone that had been self-destructing. Resting every aching muscle, stacking layer upon layer of cells that would live to be shed another day. Letting the mind run and run and then run some more, finding the little nooks where her most secret thoughts were hidden. Where her fears lay, lay in the folds of her gray matter. All snuggled up closely to all the memories she could store, the mathematical equations she wouldn’t need to know, the taste of crunchy asparagus right out of the pan, the names of people she would never see again, the streets of a city far too large to memorize, the beauty of a full moon shining high in the sky, the numbers on the pad of the public phone, the dates of birthdays that had no faces or names attached, the feelings of loose goose feathers in her hand, the mental training for weaving in and out of society’s expectations, the overwhelming scent of the grass renewed after a thunderstorm, the sound of chirping hatchlings begging for their mother.  Maybe this was a dream after all…

 

There was a moment of satisfaction, the corners of her lips turning upward to the sky. She would love to think all of this…this vast wasteland was nothing but a dream. Something peaceful for her to enjoy during her hours of unconsciousness. Yet something was getting the better of her. The Devil’s advocate in her.

 

And if it wasn’t, then what? Then what was she to this place? And where was she? How was she to get out of this quiet nightmare? Why would she be stuck here? Suffering with unbearable yearning to know. What if this was it for her? That she could never return back to the living realm. To be amongst the people she loved, amongst the people she despised, amongst those that weakened her by shooting down her ambitions, amongst those that strengthened her and woke the spirit deep within. What if she only had the grain to be friends with? Could she be happy then?

 

One would imagine that she couldn’t. One would imagine that she would writhe in fury and anguish. It’s commonly said that humans are social creatures, thus depend on social interaction in one manner or another for survival.

 

But what if freedom from everyone was actually the only way to find true inner peace? What if the lack of expectations, the lack of stress, the lack of intense and extreme emotions, the lack of stinging words, the lack of all things that drove one to insanity. What if the disappearance of all those things helped one transcend to a more beautiful place? A place where the mind, the body, the soul…they all went to this gorgeous field. Where they didn’t have to be part of anyone. They didn’t have to be part of anything. And you. You didn’t have to be anyone. You didn’t have to be anything. You didn’t have to be somewhere. You didn’t have to do anything. And you didn’t have to expect anything from anyone. Then who would you be?

 

No one, nowhere, doing nothing, not having to be anyone for everyone, and you expect nothing from anyone or anything. Light as a feather, the wind bringing you to a place unspoken.

 

**

She wasn’t breathing, her body wasn’t making a sound. Her heart seemed to be failing, lacking the crimson ichor it craved to pump. The transfusion had begun, the compressions counted out, oxygen pushed in, nothing pushed out. Frantic was the scene, white gauze wrapped around the wrists all too small, all too frail.

 

She hated what was happening, she hated all she saw, she hated everyone around her, but most of all, she hated herself. She hated all she stood for and hated all she couldn’t be. She hated all she wasn’t for everyone else, and she hated who she wasn’t for herself. All this hate piled up, bottled, laid to manifest at the bottom of her heart. It began to invade more and more each day, spreading like the plague until her body was nothing but pure black. Black for all things impure, black for all lies and deceit, black for all things unknown, black for the pain and price.

 

They yelled clear and attempted to jolt her system, to bring her back from the place beyond their control. Nothing was going to bring her back from the paradise she only just found.  Technicians can have hope— hope for the family, at least. But people like her…they couldn’t be saved. No. People like her couldn’t be saved from themselves. People like her had to want to be saved, work to show that being saved was worth it. And she didn’t want it. She shoved it away and shut herself closed tight. No one wanted to see what was inside, not even she did.

 

Clear once more, but the line was flat. The tone didn’t change, the tubes doing nothing but filling a dead body with more fluid. And what then? Did everyone have to accept it? Did everyone have to begin mourning what was in their grasp, that slipped, and fell between the cracks in their fingers? Did everyone have to take part blame? To face that they weren’t who they said they were? That they didn’t do everything they could in their power to keep her there on the earth?

 

No. None of that. They would do it because that’s all they knew, and probably even blame her. But she wrote to them, to tell them that this was better. That this is what she wanted and needed. That this is what had to happen, all that could have happen. Everything had been all too much, and she could never be the person they needed, wanted, anticipated. To find a place where she could accept herself, believe in herself. To find a place where she could lay all day long, listening to the whistles of nature, the hushed rustles of life. Where she could be who she always wanted to be.

 

No one, nowhere, doing nothing, not having to be anyone for everyone, where she expects nothing from anyone or anything. Light as a feather, the wind bringing her to a place unspoken.

 

 

 

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03.28.16

2 min read
It was never so much a matter of how she felt, more a matter of how it made him feel. Of what her feelings made him feel - and wasn't that the point? If he took into account the very feelings that were affecting him, he might wonder of what it was that contributed to such feelings. But little did he meddle, little did he show an ounce of interest, little did he poke and prod in the times that she such "annoyances". They were affectionate to her and made more evident the care that one commonly expressed in words to another. But she needed the concrete. She needed the push to get her to shove back. But she never got it, and thus she folded inward until she was but a mere wad of seemingly unloved flesh and feelings. So easily the moments made her wonder what she felt, and she would just as quickly invalidate herself than give her feelings an ounce of credit. Abuse made few let abandonment go unpunished and ill-illuminated. Made the child wonder what it was of themselves they could fix - not of others fixing the environment created to force such self-loathing...and self-punishment. Not a wonder, really. Not a wonder at all she felt as if everything was stupid. Everything was an overreaction. Everything was of her doing, of her fault, of her deserving. Few questioned the self-hatred. Even fewer attempted to reverse the cycle. And still fewer, only one, cared to stick by and conquer with her. Her feelings were listened to by the one - one she couldn't have...One she couldn't touch, nor feel. One she couldn't hug, one she couldn't caress. It was almost as if the spirit was just energy, an apparition of hope for her to cling to desperately as she did too with her life. There was a corporeal manifestation of such spirited a creature - just too far to ever feel. So her luck was nothing and she was, frankly, alone.
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She felt a gentle heat grace her cheeks so early that morning as his lips found their place on her forehead. Such protection in something so little - he probably didn't know what he did for her...He would never truly know. "I haven't checked." Her voice was but a soft whisper as he was only just waking up. For her, there was nothing worse than waking up to a voice yelling in her ears. She held onto him tightly and rested her forehead against the crook of his neck.

"I'm nervous of it but... This is as ready as I will ever get." she responded, not quite able to look up and meet his eyes. And if they didn't find her so fascinating? Or thought she was too quiet for her own good? Would they accept her or simply tolerate her? "I don't mind shopping in town."

He smiled at her as she cuddled once more close to his body, his arms wrapped around her as he hummed, pondering how they would do once they would be home. “We are going to have lots of fun.” He said as he pulled her on top of him, stretching his legs as he rolled his ankles and groaned. “I always feel stiff when I sleep in a new bed.” He said as he looked at her small frame. “We can buy some things from here, shop for the rest in the other town.” He said as he grabbed his phone to check the clock. “Its only seven and a half, lets grab some breakfast in bed?” he offered so they would not have to go anywhere.

“But, we have to get home and arrange what is not yet in place…I brought new bed sheets and blankets but I haven’t put anything in place.” He said soft with a chuckle. “We will have a long day.” He said as he closed his eyes lightly, he wanted to get some of the things at home done, they needed food and to warm up the place.
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