As I tossed and turned in a drug induced coma, I felt myself drift further and further from my bed.
My body had sunk into the matress and parachuted with the bed sheets into a dark underworld.
It wasn't hell, but it certainly wasn't heaven.
People often speak of a netherworld.
A world in between our world and the afterlife.
It was there I had met ten strangers.
The first and second, a set of twin boys.
No more than eight years old.
The third, an old Victorian woman, dressed in black.
The fourth was a quiet man, with blood soaked clothes and a guilty smile.
The fifth, a british soldier, who seemed plagued by fear and confusion.
Sixth and seventh, was an asian couple. Mid thirties who appeared to have been in some sort of accident. The woman burned horribly, while the man had a broken neck.
The eighth an old indian man dressed in a hospital gown.
And the ninth...
A black infant.
No one seemed to mind much attention to it as it tried to crawl and began to cry.
None of us knew what brought us together.
Nor, knew what to do from here.
Each individual, kept their distance.
The sky began to open up as a man made of crystals appeared.
His voice was thunderous and had caused us to fall to our knees as he spoke.
He had explained that we had passed on, but were far from moving on.
Each infinitias, both heaven and hell contributed in a game.
A game, where five players destined for heaven, and five from hell are pitted against one another and placed in a mind bending race to the afterlife.
Those who do not reach the end will cease to exist.
A life worse than hell.
Only one person could pass on and decide whether to return to their previous lives on earth or to move on to heaven or hell.
With that, the crystalized man clapped his hands together and shattered into a million pieces, seeping into the ground we stood on.
A cobbletoned road opened up in front of us and led to a series of labyrinth like bridges and mazes, with a beaming light in the distance.
We all shivered as the light consumed us and welcomed one another.
There could only be one winner.
Quickly, the nine of us had raced toward our destiny, leaving the crying infant behind.
Something inside of me couldn't shake it as I watched the twins fall prey to their surroundings first.
A land of pillowy pancakes and rain dropped syrup.
They had gone off the stoned path and begun to devour the giant pancakes that had continued to regenerate.
The syrup rained down harder, sticking them to the spongy flapjack.
Both kids squealed as it pulled them under the surface and swallowed them whole.
Everyone remained oblivious, but it was I who watched them in horror.
I returned for the infant who had happened to make it a few feet since we had left it.
I craddled it, as we both look on at our challenge.
The great, white aura everyone was dying to reach.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Skate Land
I remember it like it was yesterday. Talk Show Host by Radiohead was playing as we drove in silence.
My 98 Ford Probe bumbled and grumbled down the silent street as you stared out the passenger side window.
I told you this song reminded me of middle school when an old friend and I used to watch Romeo and Juliet and wish our lives were more like theirs.
You smiled to be nice and resumed your spot at the window.
My palms kept sticking to the steering wheel because you made me nervous.
And tonight was our first date.
Maybe.
You hadn't really been clear on what this night meant to you.
You had just agreed to hang out with me, to get away from your ex.
Until this moment you always snuck away from her at parties to hang out with me.
That was thing about you, I loved.
Spontaneity.
I wished I could have been more like that.
A rain drop splattered my windshield.
I turned my wipers on to do away with the others that followed.
The sun went down on what was one of my favorite fall days.
Rainy, cold, and dark.
Not the kind of cold that requires me to blast the heat, but the kind that demands a hat, scarf or sweatshirt.
You wore that dingy green army jacket that belonged to your grandpa and a pair of worn brown corduroys.
It was hard to focus on driving, because all I wanted to do was stare at you.
That was the thing I loved about you.
No matter how annoyed you were with me, you seemed to be fine with the way I looked at you.
Even if you hadn't felt the same way.
I flipped up my headlights to brighten the road, but only one had come up.
I didn't make much of a fuss, but inside I was cursing this car.
I hated looking poor.
You had asked me to take you somewhere people wouldn't see us.
A place you could escape.
I could think of only one place.
And I wasn't sure you'd like it.
I nearly lost my grip from the steering wheel when we finally pulled into the parking lot.
I parked underneath the neon Skate Land sign, and turned to gage your reaction.
Somehow you hadn't mind, but you were empty.
A shell.
I couldn't tell if you were annoyed, or angry with me.
You removed a half empty bottle of E & J Brandy you swiped from your parents and knocked it back like it was nothing.
I'd never drank alcohol before, except for the shots of wine they had at communion.
You insisted, and I didn't want to disappoint.
Somehow I debated the consequences of driving, drinking and skating, but knew if we were going to get through this night, I would need some liquid courage.
We finished the bottle before eight and stumbled into Skate Land.
You paid our way in.
I got the skates.
I hadn't been here since I was a kid, but I remember it being vastly different.
It had an innocence to it, which was no longer there.
Kids used to shuffle across the floor with their plastic Playschool training wheels.
Parents held the hands of their children as they scooted in the practice area.
There were limbo challenges, speed skating races, and oldies that brought a nostalgic feel this place.
Skate Land had become a worn down ghost town playing top 40's that were mostly hip hop, explicit rap songs, and bad 90's dance songs.
You didn't seem to notice or care and began lacing up.
Before I was secured in my skates, you had rolled away and occupied the floor.
I watched as you skated around interracial couples dragging their kids across the floor and screaming at them.
You were a natural, but what had bothered me was the blank expression on your face.
You lit up a cigarette without a care in the world and made a lap to The Power by Snap!
An old man with custom skates reliving his glory days, zoomed around you doing fancy skate tricks while dancing.
Suddenly I was aware at how terrible this idea was.
You had left the floor and crossed the stained 3-d carpet toward the bathroom.
I followed to make sure you were okay.
Wet paper towels, littered the floors, sticking to my skate as I entered.
There was graffiti on the cracked tiled walls and most of the sinks rusted pipes leaked water on the floor.
All of the stall doors were open, except the handicapped stall, where I heard you sniffling and coughing.
I made sure you were okay, but you didn't answer.
There was more sniffling, followed by a heavy cough.
I began to worry, but the door flung open and you pulled me inside.
You slammed me against the wall and kissed me hard.
I nearly fell from the skates, but you held me up cracking a smile.
I asked you if you were okay, but you kissed me again.
You nearly screamed "lets skate!" before disappearing from the bathroom.
I had to catch my breath.
This wasn't the first time you kissed me but usually you were really drunk.
I noticed a rolled up piece of paper drowning in the dingy toilet of the stall.
When I finally left the bathroom you were enthusiastically skating to a song that kept repeating the words Silly Ho and sounded like TLC.
You spotted me and waved me over.
I met you at the wall, me on the carpet side, you still on the floor.
You were sweating and wearing a curious smile.
"Request something!" you screamed.
"What?" I asked, but before you could answer you were skating again.
I rolled to the DJ, booth and climbed the carpeted stairs.
The DJ was wearing rose colored glasses and flipping through CD books while bobbing his head.
I asked if I could request a song.
He continued flipping through his books.
"As long as it's something funky!" He exclaimed.
I asked him for Lovesong by The Cure.
"What?" He screamed, turning up TLC.
"Lovesong!" I yelled back at him.
"Love, got it. It's up next." He cackled, tearing through his books.
As I descended the DJ mountain, I noticed you had ditched the army jacket.
You were like a rock n roll James Dean in a plain white tee and rolled up jeans.
Another cigarette dangled from your lips as you skated to the music.
I finally caught up to you and said my song was next.
My anxiety from trying to impress you had flared up.
I second guessed my decision and hoped you didn't think I was pretentious for choosing The Cure.
As the TLC song ended, my heart began to race.
Your Love by Nicki Minaj had started thumping through the speakers.
My anxiety had flipped to embarrassment as we skated.
"I said The Cure."
You started to laugh.
The laugh turned into uncontrollable laughter that made me self conscious, until I realized it was genuine.
The first genuine emotion I had seen from you other than depression.
You took my hand and pulled me along, forcing me to laugh and have a good time.
Skating to Your Love.
No worries.
Or anxiety.
My 98 Ford Probe bumbled and grumbled down the silent street as you stared out the passenger side window.
I told you this song reminded me of middle school when an old friend and I used to watch Romeo and Juliet and wish our lives were more like theirs.
You smiled to be nice and resumed your spot at the window.
My palms kept sticking to the steering wheel because you made me nervous.
And tonight was our first date.
Maybe.
You hadn't really been clear on what this night meant to you.
You had just agreed to hang out with me, to get away from your ex.
Until this moment you always snuck away from her at parties to hang out with me.
That was thing about you, I loved.
Spontaneity.
I wished I could have been more like that.
A rain drop splattered my windshield.
I turned my wipers on to do away with the others that followed.
The sun went down on what was one of my favorite fall days.
Rainy, cold, and dark.
Not the kind of cold that requires me to blast the heat, but the kind that demands a hat, scarf or sweatshirt.
You wore that dingy green army jacket that belonged to your grandpa and a pair of worn brown corduroys.
It was hard to focus on driving, because all I wanted to do was stare at you.
That was the thing I loved about you.
No matter how annoyed you were with me, you seemed to be fine with the way I looked at you.
Even if you hadn't felt the same way.
I flipped up my headlights to brighten the road, but only one had come up.
I didn't make much of a fuss, but inside I was cursing this car.
I hated looking poor.
You had asked me to take you somewhere people wouldn't see us.
A place you could escape.
I could think of only one place.
And I wasn't sure you'd like it.
I nearly lost my grip from the steering wheel when we finally pulled into the parking lot.
I parked underneath the neon Skate Land sign, and turned to gage your reaction.
Somehow you hadn't mind, but you were empty.
A shell.
I couldn't tell if you were annoyed, or angry with me.
You removed a half empty bottle of E & J Brandy you swiped from your parents and knocked it back like it was nothing.
I'd never drank alcohol before, except for the shots of wine they had at communion.
You insisted, and I didn't want to disappoint.
Somehow I debated the consequences of driving, drinking and skating, but knew if we were going to get through this night, I would need some liquid courage.
We finished the bottle before eight and stumbled into Skate Land.
You paid our way in.
I got the skates.
I hadn't been here since I was a kid, but I remember it being vastly different.
It had an innocence to it, which was no longer there.
Kids used to shuffle across the floor with their plastic Playschool training wheels.
Parents held the hands of their children as they scooted in the practice area.
There were limbo challenges, speed skating races, and oldies that brought a nostalgic feel this place.
Skate Land had become a worn down ghost town playing top 40's that were mostly hip hop, explicit rap songs, and bad 90's dance songs.
You didn't seem to notice or care and began lacing up.
Before I was secured in my skates, you had rolled away and occupied the floor.
I watched as you skated around interracial couples dragging their kids across the floor and screaming at them.
You were a natural, but what had bothered me was the blank expression on your face.
You lit up a cigarette without a care in the world and made a lap to The Power by Snap!
An old man with custom skates reliving his glory days, zoomed around you doing fancy skate tricks while dancing.
Suddenly I was aware at how terrible this idea was.
You had left the floor and crossed the stained 3-d carpet toward the bathroom.
I followed to make sure you were okay.
Wet paper towels, littered the floors, sticking to my skate as I entered.
There was graffiti on the cracked tiled walls and most of the sinks rusted pipes leaked water on the floor.
All of the stall doors were open, except the handicapped stall, where I heard you sniffling and coughing.
I made sure you were okay, but you didn't answer.
There was more sniffling, followed by a heavy cough.
I began to worry, but the door flung open and you pulled me inside.
You slammed me against the wall and kissed me hard.
I nearly fell from the skates, but you held me up cracking a smile.
I asked you if you were okay, but you kissed me again.
You nearly screamed "lets skate!" before disappearing from the bathroom.
I had to catch my breath.
This wasn't the first time you kissed me but usually you were really drunk.
I noticed a rolled up piece of paper drowning in the dingy toilet of the stall.
When I finally left the bathroom you were enthusiastically skating to a song that kept repeating the words Silly Ho and sounded like TLC.
You spotted me and waved me over.
I met you at the wall, me on the carpet side, you still on the floor.
You were sweating and wearing a curious smile.
"Request something!" you screamed.
"What?" I asked, but before you could answer you were skating again.
I rolled to the DJ, booth and climbed the carpeted stairs.
The DJ was wearing rose colored glasses and flipping through CD books while bobbing his head.
I asked if I could request a song.
He continued flipping through his books.
"As long as it's something funky!" He exclaimed.
I asked him for Lovesong by The Cure.
"What?" He screamed, turning up TLC.
"Lovesong!" I yelled back at him.
"Love, got it. It's up next." He cackled, tearing through his books.
As I descended the DJ mountain, I noticed you had ditched the army jacket.
You were like a rock n roll James Dean in a plain white tee and rolled up jeans.
Another cigarette dangled from your lips as you skated to the music.
I finally caught up to you and said my song was next.
My anxiety from trying to impress you had flared up.
I second guessed my decision and hoped you didn't think I was pretentious for choosing The Cure.
As the TLC song ended, my heart began to race.
Your Love by Nicki Minaj had started thumping through the speakers.
My anxiety had flipped to embarrassment as we skated.
"I said The Cure."
You started to laugh.
The laugh turned into uncontrollable laughter that made me self conscious, until I realized it was genuine.
The first genuine emotion I had seen from you other than depression.
You took my hand and pulled me along, forcing me to laugh and have a good time.
Skating to Your Love.
No worries.
Or anxiety.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Yesterday
Yesterday was one of those misty filled Seattle like days where the rain lightly dusts the earth.
The streets were littered with wet leaves,
the trees were a mix of green, gold, auburn and red.
The air was cool,
and gentle.
Everything was perfect,
and yet as I stared out my picture window,
and witnessed the season change,
I started to cry.
It began as a series of happy tears,
slowly dripping from both eyes,
like when a hint of peppermint
or even vapor rub brings a sting to the eye.
I hadn't understood why or where they came from,
but this slow misting,
had slowly transformed into a thicker tear.
The drops began to run down my cheeks
and stain my new white Hanes t-shirt I had just removed from its plastic wrapping that morning.
I dabbed at my eyes with a Kleenex,
but it wouldn't stop the emotion and fears from tearing through my mind.
Tears for all the people I've wronged,
the friends and family lost,
the inevitability of life,
the happiness in my dogs face, even as she consoles me in perfect health,
the feelings love brings,
the scorned heart from lovers past,
a beautiful song,
a beautiful voice,
the things we were all meant to do, but never would,
dreams long passed,
dreams long lost,
loneliness,
and most of all happiness.
Even there and then, as I cried my eyes out
alone,
scared,
happy,
and confused,
I wondered.
Is this the first time I've experienced all of these things,
or was my mind repressing memories long forgotten,
and erased from my mind with each rebirth and new form I've taken?
Is there a better life after death?
Or is this the true identify of our existence?
Living life, after life,
wandering the earth,
a new decade,
new rules,
but the same ideal principles, that we never quite get right.
I suppose this misty clouded day did trigger a repressed memory,
but all I can do is sit back and appreciate the beauty that most people never truly understand,
or question,
in such a mundane, yet, brief existence.
The streets were littered with wet leaves,
the trees were a mix of green, gold, auburn and red.
The air was cool,
and gentle.
Everything was perfect,
and yet as I stared out my picture window,
and witnessed the season change,
I started to cry.
It began as a series of happy tears,
slowly dripping from both eyes,
like when a hint of peppermint
or even vapor rub brings a sting to the eye.
I hadn't understood why or where they came from,
but this slow misting,
had slowly transformed into a thicker tear.
The drops began to run down my cheeks
and stain my new white Hanes t-shirt I had just removed from its plastic wrapping that morning.
I dabbed at my eyes with a Kleenex,
but it wouldn't stop the emotion and fears from tearing through my mind.
Tears for all the people I've wronged,
the friends and family lost,
the inevitability of life,
the happiness in my dogs face, even as she consoles me in perfect health,
the feelings love brings,
the scorned heart from lovers past,
a beautiful song,
a beautiful voice,
the things we were all meant to do, but never would,
dreams long passed,
dreams long lost,
loneliness,
and most of all happiness.
Even there and then, as I cried my eyes out
alone,
scared,
happy,
and confused,
I wondered.
Is this the first time I've experienced all of these things,
or was my mind repressing memories long forgotten,
and erased from my mind with each rebirth and new form I've taken?
Is there a better life after death?
Or is this the true identify of our existence?
Living life, after life,
wandering the earth,
a new decade,
new rules,
but the same ideal principles, that we never quite get right.
I suppose this misty clouded day did trigger a repressed memory,
but all I can do is sit back and appreciate the beauty that most people never truly understand,
or question,
in such a mundane, yet, brief existence.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Rippling Pools.
Like a clock winding in reverse
and a maiden running slowly down a white hall
I feel the creativity slowly coming to an end
My brain is swelled with regret
and images of horror
that lead to angered thoughts.
To be young,
careless,
and naive again.
Last night I dreamt of days spent at the local swimming complex.
The high dive threatening me with a challenge
and the fear I felt as I climbed those infinite stairs.
Walking to the edge,
and thinking the world was watching me,
expecting a significant show.
I would always stand stiff,
arms at my side,
as my body cut through the chlorine bleached water,
and sunk to the bottom of the endless pool.
Fear crippled me as I swam to the surface for air,
except this time I couldn't reach it,
and I drowned,
watching the splashing kicks from my peers around me,
and the older man who had been watching me from a distance diving in to save me.
He hadn't taken an interest or a liking to any of the other children that day,
and back then I took him as a kind friend.
A savior.
The first person I had kissed,
and felt unnatural feelings for,
that would only later be explained to me in an unorthodox way,
and change my life forever.
and a maiden running slowly down a white hall
I feel the creativity slowly coming to an end
My brain is swelled with regret
and images of horror
that lead to angered thoughts.
To be young,
careless,
and naive again.
Last night I dreamt of days spent at the local swimming complex.
The high dive threatening me with a challenge
and the fear I felt as I climbed those infinite stairs.
Walking to the edge,
and thinking the world was watching me,
expecting a significant show.
I would always stand stiff,
arms at my side,
as my body cut through the chlorine bleached water,
and sunk to the bottom of the endless pool.
Fear crippled me as I swam to the surface for air,
except this time I couldn't reach it,
and I drowned,
watching the splashing kicks from my peers around me,
and the older man who had been watching me from a distance diving in to save me.
He hadn't taken an interest or a liking to any of the other children that day,
and back then I took him as a kind friend.
A savior.
The first person I had kissed,
and felt unnatural feelings for,
that would only later be explained to me in an unorthodox way,
and change my life forever.
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