aurora borealis
coleen
Posts: 938
routine becomes life when we aren't careful. sneaks upon you like the mist in a smokey mountain shower. not that you don't notice the steam swirling about your ankles, just that you are hypnotized by the harmlessness of it.
you giggle and smile and wonder as it spirals its way up your immobile legs - as it tickles your middle to distract your attentions. then in less than an instant the haze which now surrounds you hums a lullabye; while the fog seeps into your lungs and feeds your brain with the anesthesia which dulls your will to live.
not so much a hopelessness or quiet desperation as just a carelessness. that lack of desire for anything resembling more than just existence in the most rudimentary sense. casually punching a clock with open eyes that see nothing but a shadow of living. placated by the hum of the hive.
careful my lovelies not to stray from the path, do not think for yourselves, do not wish for anything more than this. this? it is contentment - neither joy nor sorrow, ecstasy or anquish, yearning or connection. happiness is this nothingness.
until the moment that it isn't. every nerve ending becomes lightning and the ache is barely tolerable. life. no longer content to exist. impossible to hide the smile of knowing that "it" isn't just a dream that i've been waking from each morning. i can smell the moss carpeting the earth beneath the tall pines. i can taste the autumn and my skin remembers the mist of the snowfall yet to come.
i am remembering the internal compass of my childhood. the knowledge of the earth and sky that lurks beneath that underutilized portion of matter behind my eyes. millions of years of evolution are waiting to be remembered. i am listening to the song of the ancients and they are waiting for me to join their song.
road-rage blazing the pathway home whilst listing in my head - not what i want but what i'll need. to live by word as well as deed.
you giggle and smile and wonder as it spirals its way up your immobile legs - as it tickles your middle to distract your attentions. then in less than an instant the haze which now surrounds you hums a lullabye; while the fog seeps into your lungs and feeds your brain with the anesthesia which dulls your will to live.
not so much a hopelessness or quiet desperation as just a carelessness. that lack of desire for anything resembling more than just existence in the most rudimentary sense. casually punching a clock with open eyes that see nothing but a shadow of living. placated by the hum of the hive.
careful my lovelies not to stray from the path, do not think for yourselves, do not wish for anything more than this. this? it is contentment - neither joy nor sorrow, ecstasy or anquish, yearning or connection. happiness is this nothingness.
until the moment that it isn't. every nerve ending becomes lightning and the ache is barely tolerable. life. no longer content to exist. impossible to hide the smile of knowing that "it" isn't just a dream that i've been waking from each morning. i can smell the moss carpeting the earth beneath the tall pines. i can taste the autumn and my skin remembers the mist of the snowfall yet to come.
i am remembering the internal compass of my childhood. the knowledge of the earth and sky that lurks beneath that underutilized portion of matter behind my eyes. millions of years of evolution are waiting to be remembered. i am listening to the song of the ancients and they are waiting for me to join their song.
road-rage blazing the pathway home whilst listing in my head - not what i want but what i'll need. to live by word as well as deed.
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
this was my favourite part, although all of it was very good.
move away into the fucken tornado.
As Maynard says ' we are all one consciousness'