Friday, December 11, 2015

2005: Two Riders Were Approaching.....

I wasn't far removed.  The young man without a future, standing on pine needles and bone-white topsoil, pining among the pines with a beverage near my lips.  Meanwhile, outside, things churned, people changed and the world rotated on its axis.

Does it matter?


I wasn't far removed.

You are number six.

But you must understand the severity of the situation: I could imagine no future.  For me, the future was darkness-a blank darkness.  This was so for a long time.

Lonely rivers flow, to the sea, to the sea!

Eventually I found myself surrounded by people who were trying to pull pieces of me away, for their own use.  Needless to say, I did not like how the world reacted to me.  In turn, I was lead to hate even myself, as much as I began to hate and/or mistrust the rest of the world.  So in my own world, I cancelled my future, until I had time to go back to the old drawing board to come up with something new and appropriate for the changes I had undergone.

And time can do so much....

I let go.  I was quite upset, filled with dread, and in a schizoid moment I proclaimed I knew how to stop the terrorists.  I was wrong.  It was a crazy shot from left field, when I had thought much too deeply about the matter for too long a time, thusly making the whole idea seem highly improbable now.  As evidence, there have been small terrorist attacks, but to my credit I was talking about organized terror attacks on the scale of 9/11. Maybe I was right or wrong.  The point is moot.  A piece of my soul broke and I gave up.  Part of my soul died, leaving a bloody wound somewhere inside, and I remember walking around my hometown all the next day with that wound.

2009: I was then very far removed.

2005: I had a Mountain Dew.  I screamed.  Everyone heard, but no one reacted.  Like stone faces in a gallery.  The day went on, the same as ever.  I looked at the oaks and the freshly-mowed grass in my yard.  It was so staid.

Made me want to yell more, did it-the quietness of the scene.

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