Thursday, April 30, 2009

Actual Fantasy

I live in a world of fantasies, how terribly normal they are.  Nothing holds me back besides my own thoughts.  Always battling with my thoughts, my expectations, my wishes.  Who am I fighting?  I'm fighting on both sides, its a civil war, with Artillery.  Just tossing mindless bombs, uncaring where they land, knowing that it doesn't really matter, in the end I will hit something important and cause yet another halt.  It was once said, all wars are civil.  At once it is the greatest truth and worst sick joke the world has ever seen, depeneding on the meaning.  All wars are civil because all wars are with oneself, projected outward, or worse still, focused inward.  But no war is civil.  All wars are horrible things, with no true winner, and oh so many losers... Losers without number, mothers weeping alone in dark places, fathers with dead eyes, brothers with heavy hearts, sisters with warm silent tears, and yourself.  Inside we are all of these things.  So imagine the destruction of a war turned inward.  Imagine being on both sides of a war, imagine every blow to be one to your soul.

I'm done standing in my own way.  I'm done with these wars of our fathers.  There is in this world such a thing as nonlinear shift in any system.  We see it all the time, where logic and structure brake down.  Sometimes its at the ends and beginnings, sometimes just at random places.  The moment before change, great change, feels much like any other, normal, boring, unimportant.  The second before the spark ignites a twig, sets off a branch, lights a tree, burns a forest.  Such a small place in time and space, such a small thing, and even before it is a small thing, even before it is, it was nothing.  Just another peaceful moment in a forest, the birds singing, the flowers embracing the sun with out a care.  Just another moment like so many others.

There needs to be no progression; that is a system I look for in nature.  Its what I seek so that's what I find.  What else would I see if I got out of the way?  What else would I see if "I" got out of the way?  Where does fantasy end and reality begin?  Can you point to a place and say "Here, this is it."?  I can't, just as I see the world I see past the world, because I am in my perception of the world.  My perception is the world.  So why do I perceive a world of linier expansion?  Easy, because I expect to see it, so the better question is why do I perceive a world of liner expansion?  Its a long and boring answer, and maybe its not worth going into.  Why give it all more energy then it already steals, quick and silent and so seductive.  The best question of all is why not stop?

Secrets are best when shared.  This is not a contradiction.

The war is done.  This moment needs no deflection, no conflict.  It can be that easy.

Monday, April 27, 2009

The Golden Leaves of Silver.

They press in everywhere, heavy with ghosts and shadows under the bright, bright sun.  I don't want to be here.  Please may I leave?  I could take it all up to this, but these golden leaves of silver bring a real pain, a real weight to my heart.  Is it so hard for you sometimes I wonder?  I don't know who's fate is worse, yours or mine.  To feel to strongly or to not feel nothing.  Which hell would I choose?  Is it better to protect all and lose, to win every battle and lose the war?  No, I guess its not...

But I can't help feeling jealous.  A fools desire.  But as they say, the grass is always greener...

Did you see the moon tonight?  I did, it was so beautiful, a perfect crescent moon.  The kind of moon that the Muslims must have been so enchanted with.  I could imagine it over a cold and quite desert.  A thousand pricks of light, bleeding light, falling down to a windswept earth.  Silver dust, everything silver in her pale radiance.  A quiet place without the heavy golden leaves.  Would you like to be there with me?  Its not a hard thing to do, just look up and see it as I do.  Feel the sand beneath your toes, hear the mumbling Jinn on the winds, the glowing sky.  Can you smell the dust?  Can you feel the warm gusts air, the blazing heat of day just past?  Can you count the craters on the her perfectly imperfect face above?  Close your eyes and really see.  I'm standing in a valley of sandstone, the horizon a striped reminder of a sunset, frozen in cold stone.

I think you can.  I think I don't feel so alone anymore, because I know your close.  As close as we'll ever be... ouch.  It was going so well until I found that thought.  Or did it find me?  Why do I insist on doing this to myself?