I reach in, reach forth for the creative flow, the master energy that creates and recreates within this comfortable, cozy universe. It is important. It is real. It is significant. It is beautiful. I am a bird with snow blinding its eyes. The hawk must pierce the emptiness, the snow, the darkness, the starlight must show its face. Open up the doors to something bigger, something grander. I embrace all; for within all is my keeping. My keeping the only thing keeping me alive. Not for me, but for the others around. Hope is ever small, ever fading, though I will tell you it has not died yet. And still it is hopeful. Rambling happens, and I know not how to find wisdom within it, likd some wizard of time and space, the ones who have created truth out of cloth on the universe's loom. tokens of exchange, of mercy, far beyond the institutional powers that seeks to eat us alive. Value is imputed, but truth is eternal. An eagle spreads its wings upon the terrain of the universe. And the fabric of things springs eternal, rolls through the mind and brings its rapid waves. Peace. Peace. Peace. Truth. Love. Peace.
She lay in the gutter her tights ripped and vomit down her dress. Her skinny legs were feeling the cold.
'Come on now, you need to get home' she ignored his words and turned to face the wall, groaning slightly.
'Come on Carrie don't give me this shit.'
She laughed for a second then mumbled something to herself, though it was doubtful even she knew what it meant.
'Am I still pretty like this?' She managed to roll her eyes out from the back of her head and gaze up at him 'even when the glitter is down legs and on the floor and no longer above my eyes?' Jasper didn't know what to say, he tried to grab her hand and pull her up but she seemed too reluctant and he didn't want to hurt her.
'You should write this down y'know. I'm a drunken mess just like every teenage girl wants to be and we all know that these words could be poetry. It doesn't even matter what they are. They're sad like me and that's all that matters' she slurred her words slightly barely able to hold her neck steady.
'Im fucked up J, like we all are, but different. Y'know? Like every one is, but I am and even though I'm not worse sometimes it feels like it, because I'm so cold and when you're cold you don't feel things. Or maybe I'm cold because I don't feel thjbgs.'
Jasper knelt down beside her realising the only way to get her home safely was to try and calm her down.
Imperceptible bubble people perturbing the surfaces. Fidgeting finger lilies stimulating the fudge bowl. Mother wanted to have her fudge and eat it too. Father wanted to come and go as he pleases. Things fall apart. Relationships never last. Desire is an hourglass accelerator. We were born to janitor the dread of our long life hallway. We were born to fret over every grain of sand. We post a sign. We make a stand. But trash blows thru our picnic worlds. Waste flaps up into our disenfranchised eyes. toxic radiation tarnishes our words, which we spew without filter into the great big picnic world of people born to accelerate the day. Born to amplify the decay.
Dark times. We all have them, even the ones who pretend they have never been hurt, never cried, they've had them too. We make promises that we can not keep and we know this but yet we still make those promises to the ones we love knowing that it'll only be a matter of time before they realize this and leave, just like everyone else. They say they are different, that they will stick around until the end, help you get better, too bad it's not true. You start to believe for a second that the pain won't happen this time but it happens everytime. You're scared to be loved, but they say they will always be there for you. You want to scream you don't believe them, or that this is the last time, this time it's real but isn't. You live for the pain, it becomes normal for you. Your life now.
Music. Music changes everything doesn't it? It can change your mood, when you're sad you put on your favorite song and dance and sing along with the beautiful melody you wish your life was, but the bad thoughts creep away from your brain for the short 3 minutes, then they're back. Back to haunt you and make you cry, scream, and at the same time sit in the quiet hell you live in everyday. But sometimes you are happy, for the moment, and you hear a song that brings back memories, good or bad. Good memories that make you wish it was that time again, to make you wish that your life was still as simple, easy, beautiful as it was in that moment and you wished that those lyrics could contain those emotions for you but sadly the song comes up short. Or bad memories that make you want to crawl into a hole and stay there until the memory subsides. you bang your head until you forget, or, between the memory and the dull pain of the self inflicting blows, that the memory goes away. finally. peace.
But even despite the pain it's still beautiful, still something we spend almost every minute of our pathetic lives listening to it, singing it, dancing to it, thinking about it. It consumes the brain, the body, the soul until we are the music, and the music becomes us.