Twisted and Melting

I should be working, but there really isn't much to do. I guess that means I'm waiting, thats something I was never very good at. I am waiting on many tiers today, but some have fallen. Its an odd thing looking back on the last few months and seeing all the shifting, dancing lights. They say change is the only thing that stays the same. What nonsense.

But somehow still I feel my moving, its like my heart is a dancing amorphous mass. I've learned so much about myself.

I've been,.. hesitant. There is past that creeps in on my mind and speaks caution. But there is present that argues valor. Twisted like fine soft serve ice cream. And while it melts, fighting each other for winters kiss, I notice myself wondering off. I'll not get involved. I don't want to be. Better to just let it melt, and be true.

I'm watching way to closely. I know. But I feel like a man lost in a cold dark cell, with just a single ray creeping in the bars to comfort me. How can I help but watch so closely? Under such radiance, the rest of the world seems to fade to a dull gray. I yield and yield to it. What ever it takes.

I'm trying not to get involved in these little plays.

I'm getting better at it.

Clouds

Sometimes I can see it. Uncounted lights, floating in black space. Each light is different, some dance and caper, joyous and uncontained. Others are slow and quiet, winking to deep rhythms of the ancients. The colors are all gold, and all perfectly the same. But you can tell ones glow apart from another, like different memories of the same place. I claim to see it.

That's my first lie.

I can only imagine one or two, maybe ten or even a hundred. But they stretch on forever. Absolutely endless, and forever. Moving in 4 dimensions, there is no end to the Clouds. They reach out to each other with filaments of the finest silk thread. Even the thickest strands look like they would blow away on the breeze, but they stand so strong. So strong some can never be broken, strong as the lights themselves. Strong enough to circumvent time. Each plus is rebounded. Each flash is answered, but never the same way. Energy moves around the Clouds, building and releasing. Each Starsoul touches these pulses and changes it, makes it it's own.

That's my second lie.

Its all one thing, Light, putting on a show. Each can change the plus of life, but they are all the same thing. Memories of memories. Their cores are one. Trace each nexus back to its beginning. It is shared by all. But the Dance of Souls is oh so beautiful to watch. Slowly at first, I can see some of it. Faster and faster I comprehend the shifts, the flickers and the pulses. Soon its like a buzzing sound, but in pictures. Sometimes I even see this little me. I watch myself reach out and touch other Lights. I feel myself in the cloud.

That's my third lie.

I can feel the cloud. All of it, every last photon. But not myself in it. There is nothing to feel. I can only see myself from elsewhere in the Cloud. Then its not me feeling anymore. Seeing is one thing, watching the connections, sighing and singing. Its another thing to feel the pixel that is me. I've yet to find myself in the Cloud, but I'm not actually looking. I'm just this little bulb, abandoned and trapped among countless others.

That's my forth lie.

I am not the pixel on the giant TV screen. I am the electricity that runs through it. I am that which makes it glow every so brightly. Just as every charged electron has its moment of radiance, we get to express our move in the Dance of Souls. Just as every charged electron has to return to the power station, we all get to go home. But the power remains on. And the show must go on.

Low grey Clouds on a rainy Sunday afternoon, watched from warm in bed out a frosted window. That is maybe all there is, Clouds.