Life after social media and the meandering thought stream of deep consciousness

Posts tagged “her


Dust Memories

When the winds first scattered us, naked to the plains, we crawled from the muck; we crawled from our caves. And I remembered you. I remembered you. You were a distant mote sunken in my brain, left hopelessly alone until I gave you a name. Because I remembered you. I remembered you. Before I found a face to match what I thought you should be, I found out that all along you were tucked away inside of me. The idea of something that I needed to stay sane; a hunger left unsatiated from before we ever came. Like a “made in…” stamp from a factory floor; a tag in a shirt. A warm radiant core emanating and resonating from a forgotten shred of us. I gave you a name and brought to the surface. Because I remembered you. I remembered you. I remembered you. I remembered you.


A Speck In A Water Glass

A truth unrecognizable; a truth nevertheless.

A movement of my head and a new thought comes to me. An occular phenomena shown to me through a sharply curved piece of glass. Simple enough, yet, my brain does not reason in simple terms. I begin to think of quantum slit experiments, moving my head slower with each pass. I forget my body and begin to think of myself as a camera, capturing what the eyes have missed. With each sway back and forth, I slow myself and delve deeper into fractions of seconds. Halfs splitting quarters, quarters giving way to eighths. I continue until I am seeing a world never meant for human eyes. Particles shifting, willing themselves to somewhere else. First I see their “thoughts” moving, then shortly after their “body” drags itself across the threshold. For an instant, a single particle exists in two places at once. Then I remember my body and everything comes rushing through me. In some ways, the observer, as well,  exists in two places at once. Strange then, that I put so much weight on the worry; If bits and pieces that make up my existence could be in two places at once…then why can’t I, as a whole, do the same? The thought travels first, the body follows. Perhaps I am already there and my body simply does not know it yet.  Perhaps…


Today I looked back at an old conversation with her. My last conversation with her. I said something in there, somewhat randomly, that I just felt was a complete moment of clarity. At the time, I was pissed off, heartbroken and had really lost my faith in humanity (specifically, with our ability to hope and to dream).

You know, times like this, I feel I understand and can relate to Anakin more than I ever could to Luke. That’s the whole point of Star Wars, it has nothing to do with great battles between rival factions, it’s about looking within yourself and saying “Yeah, we all strive to be Luke, but in the end, we’re human, and humanity looks a lot more like Anakin”. I’ve always had this theory that the original trilogy completely took place in Vaders head, and was his inner turmoil fantasizing about how great of a person he could be. Ultimately, even his inner fantasies, his hopes and dreams, fell apart, because at his core, Anakin was not good. He wanted to believe that he could have been amazing, but we can’t change who we are. We can put up a show for others, play the part and go through the motions, but when it comes time to make a decision, it is who we are at our cores that define the choices we make.

It’s funny how, in the middle of a fight, we can unclench our fists for a moment, to have a soft laugh as we analyze something from the back of our minds. We can find such clarity, such peace, and take all of our anger and cast it out. Fuck it. If it’s done, it’s done. I might as well go out poetically. Take risks, live life. We all end up hurt, in one way or another, might as well take the risks so at least you feel human when you fuck up.


When the sound came crashing through, the feeling moved through me effortlessly. I took pause, closed my eyes and let my mind run free. Your voice still echoing across my skin and reverberating down to my bones. I try to conceal my thoughts, try to bite my tongue and stop the grin, but I see that your face is flushed and cannot. We must wait, but we have no desire to. I suddenly wish for the entire room to vanish and leave us alone. Odd, though, isn’t it? We would abandon everything for that moment. No matter how brief or fleeting it is, we will stretch it out for an eternity. I will get lost in you and happily never return.

Strange Days

I once felt an impossible breathe upon my neck, hailing from a corner I had never before touched. I knew it was not real but I let myself get lost in it, if only for a moment. Later on, walking down a cold and empty street, I felt a shiver immediately followed by a warm comfort. I was convinced it had followed me. For a while there I actually thought it was real. I got lost in it, and felt that I could finally accept that the dream was real. Like most dreams, eventually you wake up and the world is cold and lonely. No breathe upon your neck, no comfort on the cold and empty street; only a fading memory of a place you once were. The way everything felt and the way everything needed to be (and was). When the abyss stares back, be sure it’s looking at you and not what it wants you to be.

The Rapidly Expanding & Shrinking Distance To The Horizon

I always seem to forget the feeling, as it’s rarely ever there. Like a constant nagging telling you that you will die if you don’t know everything. You worry, you fret and you find yourself getting upset over nothing at all. You either feel sick to your stomach with doubt or full to the brim with desire, passion and hope. You feel jealousy, hate and envy to anyone who intervenes. You want nothing more than to be there, but you beat yourself up thinking you would make a fool of yourself. You cower at taking such a leap of faith, but that’s why it’s called a “leap of faith” and not a “short, easy step of faith”, isn’t it? You dream so big, you think of the future, you make plans and you find yourself lost in thought over it. Then some miniscule, insignificant detail comes into the little world you’ve built up and threatens to topple your built up dreams over. You look that detail square in the face, and tell it to fuck off, because the only other option is failure. Extremes, they go hand-in-hand with dreams.

Room twisting

I could stare endlessly into the shades of green and red. I could get lost and be happy in the flawless plains. I want to find myself entwined in the shifting shades, with but a subtle caress freeing me from my binds. And I will. And I will. And I will.