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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 23:04:25 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 113807
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Musing
[time] => 2006-01-26 15:03:20
[hometext] => Part 2 Tomorrow.
[bodytext] => You wake up now. A lot can happen in the course of a few weeks. Snow falls. Snow melts. Roses bloom. Roses wilt. Just like the rose, your life bloomed and it wilted. You wake up now. Lying awake in your own personal coma, you stared at the ceiling. Such a cliché, to be lying alone, in the dark, crying, but that’s exactly it. Your whole life had been that same cliché. That same middle class girl who’d grown up pretty well. That same dyed blonde ‘n’ black kid who wore too much eyeliner. That same abused, helpless child with blood stained arms. Yeah, you were fine. The sun beat through the faded blackout blinds, searing your eyes as you looked for the time. You held up the clock, illuminating your face with that eerie blue glow. 02:15 What? You thought. In the morning?! No way should there be sun! Your thoughts were never intellectual. Always blunt and obvious. Maybe that’s how you appeared to be, to those of the outside world. 02:14 When Time travels backwards, and your mind is lost in dream state, then you know it’s time you ran away. When the Sun rises with the moon, then you know it’s time to escape. And when the floor is sinking into the ceiling, take your aspirin, careful to take too many, and fall into your walls. You wake up now. Hold your head high. Embrace the night. Embrace what was sunlight with the utmost contempt. Hate every inch of soulless life. Welcome the solitude of unfeeling concrete. You had awoken that morning covered in a pink liquid. You had stared long and hard at the woman before you, searching for the girl. Before long it was discovered by no other than your cerebral cortex that you were indeed outside. Your name means nothing. You are 19 years old. Outside. There’s no such thing. Describe outside. “A place beyond an enclosed space” That’s only physical. What about our minds? What about our “emotions”. What about our damned natural instincts. Can we become part of the outside, looking in at ourselves? Can we be really that self critical, that self detached? Can we? Time out. Go on. Do it. Take a step back. Look at everything. Look at your face. At your lips. Rubbed red raw. At your eyes, encased in week-old black. Move to your body. What are you wearing? Is it the same “stretched out” jumper, the one that only looks to big because your impossibly skinny? Or today have we reverted to a sick stained t shirt? Have we? Take another step back. Don’t move to far away. Don’t ruin the perspective. Look at how you thought this was just a story. Look at how it slowly progressed, the images forming became twisted and surreal. Look at how much more this is. This is no story. You wake up now. Your cerebral cortex recieves your sensory information. It takes in what you see. It takes in what you hear. It takes in what you taste. It takes in what you smell. Does it take in what you feel? Do you even feel? Or does your cerebral cortex interpret what’s been received and send out the appropriate emotions? Or do you have disasociation, the brain of a psychopath? This is no riddle. This is your life. Life. It spans the world. But what we fail to contemplate, or indeed remember, that it’s just another sect of the earth. The planet was not “alive” when rock and water were the only ones to ever grace its spherical face, and yet we humans, all of us, think we own this. Just think again, for the third time, how ridiculous, selfish and self obsessed that is. You are never too confused to die. You are only ever stupid enough to let that consume you. Your name means nothing. You were never alive. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 502 [topic] => 74 [informant] => Dying_angel [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 1 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => surreal )
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