If we are indeed all individuals, spinning within our own solar systems, why is it that we are constantly colliding with one another? We crash into each other with such force that all involved are forced to take notice, but strangely enough we have a tendency to resume life as it was before. It takes an act of God,or whatever powers you choose to believe in or ignore, to get us to stop long enough to see beyond ourselves. When did this all happen? Have we always been so self contained? When did being an open, honest, trusting person more concerned with making someone else smile than accruing worldly possessions become such a rarity? Why is it admirable to simply be a human being? Who knows. Maybe we've always been this way. Maybe we are finally evolving to see the error of human nature. The world spins madly on.
Rain flows down the window, droplets racing each other to the respite of the trench below. The window blows, sending rain sideways. The loudness of water hitting metal roofs and cars sloshing through puddles is amplified by the silence inside my mind. The stillness is deafening, maddening really. It fills everything around me to capacity and just as I think the pressure will become too much, it all falls away. The thunder stops, the water trickles down the sidewalk and the streets now merely slosh. The sun begins to pierce through the clouds and I realize now that everything is clean again. What was once tattered and broken has become new again. The storm was not in fact the end, but truly a new beginning. Standing firm allowed for change to occur. Is that truly what life is? Is is staying strong long enough to make it through the storm to enjoy the brightness of a thousand tomorrows? Is it running along the path of a rainbow and knowing with childlike faith that a pot of gold awaits at the other end?
Open. close. Open. close. The door swings gently on its hinges. The screen slit from top to bottom and the wood rough from the salty sea air. The darkness on the ocean front envelopes everything it touches without the aid of city lights to pierce through. You can just hear the sound of breath entering and leaving his body as dreams take root in his brain. The man and the sea. It's a tale as old as any and yet as new and fresh as you allow. Who is he? Why is he here? Why does it seem as if he is encapsulated in loneliness when you've not spoken a word to him. As you look around you see he does not have much to offer. A rough looking acoustic guitar, the stereotypical surfboard by the front door. That is when you spot it. A wallet. Inside his license tells you his name is Dave. As you walk over to him, you apologize for having to take what is his to support what is yours. You lean down to end his life and as the knife reaches his throat, his eyes open suddenly. The bluest kaleidoscopes stare back at you. He catches his breath as if he's not even seen you. As if you are but a ghost, his eyes slam back shut as quickly as they'd opened. You realize you'd been holding your own breath as you turn and run from the seaside shack. He lives.
As her hand slammed down hard on the cement block, she felt the urge to end it all. To let go at last and feel the sweet release of all she had held on to for so long. As the blood began to trickle down her arm, she felt as though the world had all come to a screeching halt. Falling backwards as though caught in the gravity of space, she could see all that people speak about when they say that their lives flashed before their eyes. She could hear her mother calling out to her. She could hear a young and innocent version of who she used to be, laughing as her mother nussled her. She could feel the warmth of the sun and the sea breeze coursing through her hair. She could sense what it was that she was meant to be before. Before she ruined it all by choosing him. Before she lost hope and before her dreams had died. As she hit the pavement, what should have felt like a thousand pounds of pressure was more akin to falling on the softest pillow there ever was. It was over. It was finished. She was finally free and all she could sense was the weight of years of not being enough, lifting itself off her shoulders and launching into the atmosphere. She was at peace.