When I glimpse the witching hour inside – there are moments of peace. There are moments of tranquility as if the moon flapped silently alongside the ghostly owls. There are moments frozen, when the light perched in the eves above my head. It is then that I do not act. Every action I take is a step towards self-satisfaction. This requires the removal of the things which dissatisfy me – otherwise I wouldn’t be acting now would I?
I have lusted for sleep without waking.
Beyond the groves of night; the thorn-ridden forest lurks, a mad and howling thing. It is outraged and stands to guard against reality. However; even the bracken couldn't save me. I like everyone else am forced to breathe fire, to turn to the maze of concrete and glass, to test the forges that churn the sludge, to watch the birds sitting high in their cages forced to lay so many golden eggs. Perfect rows and perfect moats, their uniformity is atrocious and defiling to the natural order of things.
How is it beautiful to live on top of one another squawking and screaming – fighting over so little space? How beautiful is a mile stretch of square-cut tiles compared to the glimpses of natural freedom residing in sparse parts of the world? How does this compare to the wild growth breaking through the gray. How does the sky look veiled in neon lights compared to a night naked with white splendor? How many or how little have heard the cicada’s and the crickets orchestra on summer evenings? I prefer this to the whistles and shrieks that happen within your castles of civilization. I prefer the crown of sunrise to the dreary cloaks of poison.
Yet, the ones who I am attracted to are drawn to the cities. That is where the people are marching in formation to the calls of fast food and the calls of corporation. I look on them in longing but know that this sick love triangle is unfit for me or them. I would fold them in my arms I would fold them to my mouth. They taste of iron and blood. Yet still I crave more, I feel beastly and foul in my addiction.
I rattle with every window by the railroad tracks. I tremble with every leaf in October winds. I shake with every pass by the underpass. If I paced by, you may catch a breeze of guaic wood warmed with vanilla. You’d realize that bergamot and mandarin had entered the building. The squalor of urban life has destroyed my sight. My eyes are fading so I wouldn’t dare to look upon you; I’d have to glare to see your face so I’d wander without a glance.
My silence is deafening. But the roar of despair in others is defeating. My most silent thoughts dictate the motion of my stars. I turn left – they flee to the right. I run forward and they stay in place. It’s only when I’m still that I can watch them dance. Have you stopped to stare? While my life is in constant isolation, my mind in constant journey; my existence is all my own. I’d have it no other way.
There I sit in the shelter of my curtains, so that the sun cannot glimpse me. Once there, hidden away in the safety of shade, I turned my gaze blurred by the terrifying beauty that lay just out of my reach.
There on the horizon of earth and sea, a line of gold. There on the sun scorched beach, the white foam writhes in agony. Have you ever watched the tide rush in? The mist yields to currents of air, muting the thunder of the water. You can watch the stampede of nature rise to the cliffs and then bound the other way. It is an altogether different sight – a different style of caged predator.
Here I shut the door readily, recalling the heat in its entire splendor. I slammed the door on the common life, I breathed in life of my own making. None could guess the ecstasy of such a dull-witted and silent monster thrilled to the brim with joy at the sight of beauty in the world.
Now I can only desire from a distance.
Now I can only want that which I cannot have.
Now I have but one craving.
At the end of my life I wish to say “I have not lost myself to the dominant dogma of this age.” At the end of my life I wish to look back and know that I chose to pace against the tyranny of life. I grasp that events are what wo/men make them. My aim is to hold absolute to the force within against the obstacles without.