The colors shift, and I too am there. Walls are built up in tumbling waves and the sun chitters through like a transmission lost. Darkness encloses and the tumbling ends, serenity at last. A death knell for a kingdom unbuilt, serenity at last. Climbing the unseen rungs, she spirals through a sparkling haze and then she disappears. It is then that I realize, before I, too, spiral down, that she was the city and I too will be. Climbing too high; too fast…only to be pulled back down. Breathless and defeated, never to return. Or will we? I look to the chaos around me and see flickers of life; I am reminded that everything is a cycle. Just as “she” rose and fell, I wonder how many others have come before…and how many others will come after? Who will be me, and who will be her? Will our names be the same, and were they ever before? I feel that to know something, you must know it’s true name. So then I wonder, who am I? Who am I, truly? Ah, but the thought fades as I descend and the walls push in. But as I forget my pleading and reasoning, an inkling of myself returns and I say farewell to the only true names that I truly know. Farewell Sky. Farewell Light. Farewell Light. Farewell Atlantis.
May 9, 2013 | Categories: The Balance | Tags: after, atlantis, balance, betwixt, betwixt the roiling walls, life, life after social media, lifeaftersocialmedia, media, roiling, social, the, the balance, walls, walrus | Leave a comment
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…
Sometimes I catch myself in thought, lost in memories of times long since passed. There is always that longing to return to the places we’ve been, if for nothing else but to see them in a new light. Memories are strange like that, because no matter how you felt at the time, it’s how you remember them that sticks with you. Over time, those feelings can change, and so too does the memory. Sometimes I find myself at odds with the good times, because I know them now for what they truly were; fluff pieces. It’s not the laughter, or the friends or the high that sticks with you, it’s the little things. Something pure and honest that would have otherwise been completely lost had you not turned your head at the right moment. The way the cheeks creased on that girl you never met when she smiled. The way the wind ruffled the curtains as it blew in through the open bedroom window. The pop in that record that seemed, for that brief instant, perfect. You lose those things in the moment, only to remember them in a moment of clarity. Like a particle of dust dancing through a light beam, flickering into existence from a seemingly empty space. Like a hidden world that you’ve stumbled upon by chance, you’re given a brief glimpse of something that nobody else saw. For those brief moments, you and the universe are sharing a joke, telling a secret. You laugh with your eyes and let only the slightest grin escape you, so as to not draw attention; for these things can not be described to others who had not had that moment. The inside joke never to be repeated. It’s strange, though, that those little, tiny, seemingly insignificant moments, truly are the most significant. You find yourself shaped more by that speck of dust than by a hundred million parties; all the worlds parties. A hundred million friends. A hundred million memories. They blow away like smoke from lungs, and what you are left with is a speck of dust forever engrained in you. Carl Sagan once referred to the nomadic nature of humans by saying “The open road still softly calls”. Maybe it’s not the millions of miles of highway, the vast plains and tundras, nor the great expanse of space that calls us, but rather the tiny, fleeting moments that we will find along the way. The road less traveled is still but a road, and when you least expect it you may be shown a glimpse of a dream you forgot you had long, long ago.
October 10, 2011 | Categories: The Balance | Tags: Carl Sagan, dust, friends, lifeaftersocialmedia, memories, memory, moment of clarity, moments, parties, strange, the balance, the open road, The open road still softly calls, walrus | Leave a comment
The dislocation occurs frequently at random intervals. It sets things in motion that can not be changed. It moves us all through the movement of one. The choir boy becomes the suicide bomber. The suicide bomber becomes the waitress in that little cafe you love. All things changing, all the time, in one way or another. Cells mesh and meld and become as one. Things happen and we don’t even realize it, for our brains can not process change like that. Watch now, and, if you look hard enough, you may see that the person you thought you knew is no longer the same.
September 10, 2010 | Categories: The Balance | Tags: brains, cells, Change, changes, choir boy, dislocation, lifeaftersocialmedia, look, meld, mesh, motion, movement, process, random, suicide bomber, the balance, the dislocation, vision, wait, walrus, watch | Leave a comment
So often we see the light of day, that we forget what it’s like to drift in the unknown.