Diary entry from January 2007

I wrote this about a true story in which I witnessed a man die in a car parked within an empty lot where a Toys R Us once stood. It was my childhood store. I am sure it was for many others, but it was mine. I got my first bike there. I got my first videogame systems there. I went there everyday after school, if not to buy a new mighty max toy, magic cards, D&D box set, or some McFarlane toy, I went to browse for hours. The store was demolished after the roof caved in during a heavy snow storm. All that was left was this empty lot and the car that currently possessed it. It was winter (As the date suggests in the title) and snowing out. I am on the way home from a series of doctors and am stopped at a red light, passenger with my father in drivers seat. On the otherside of the intersection where we are stopped the lot rests with the car resting in the middle of it. I am staring at this car, daydreaming, when I hear a loud screech and see a giant SUV skid sideways and crumple this car. It caved in like an accordion. The man in the car was shaken about like a rag doll and exits the vehicle through the closed passenger window due to the force of the crash and died immediately. The other man exits his SUV and begins to swear and assess the damage to his own vehicle, not noticing another man lifeless nearby. Not caring. It seemed incredibly personal to me. I may be selfish in feeling that, but it did. So I when I got home I wrote this.
THE END



~SnowFlakes~


1 Worlds passing by my head
2 Spin into endless oblivion;
3 Dodging the windshield, they separate
4 Until, in another life, they meet again.

1 The winter glaze, it coats the land,
2 And within each flake their lays the dead.
3 Within each flake sleeps the memory
4 Of a wondrous and forgotten city.

1 And if this life is just a dream,
2 A little piece of a larger machine,
3 Then wake me, wake me, wake me please
4 With an empathetic push towards reality.

1 Through the night, the darkness glows
2 As the moonlight reflects off the snow
3 With a pushing wind to guide my way.
1 As the cities scream below my feet,
2 Above my head they glide with naivety,
3 And I haven’t got the heart to explain



1 In the cold, my breath turns,
2 Spelling my words out in the air.
3 Then they thin and they dissipate
4 Until there is nothing left to say.

1 Shape the snow into life,
2 Reflecting man or an angel, bright.
3 Or rest inside where it is warm
4 Looking on out at the cities storm.

1 Worlds passing by my bed
2 Spin into endless oblivion;
3 They turn and twist around my body
4 Weaving dreams into my drifting head.

0 Memories…

1 Toy store roof collapsed due to snow
2 With a mother and son trapped below,
3 My childhood is torn down for empty space.
1 Then seasons later a car is parked
2 Where the toy store was, an empty lot,
3 An SUV skids and can not break.
1 The crumpled iron and twisted metal
2 Is reshaped and forced within itself,
3 The man inside is given not a second to pray.
1 Shaken within and forced on out
2 To the ground as the people shout;
3 Poor broken hearts on that winters day.

Heavenly

The headlights behind me are glaring
like bug eyes through the darkness.
Following me past locations, familiar
on this long and lonely road towards nowhere.
A beautiful nowhere.

The cigarette in my fingers
emits a feint winding smoke stream
flowing violently in the wind
as it gets pulls outside my window towards
those distant blinding beams.

These steel insects swarming in
from every direction, glowing.
They all know where they are heading.
They all know whom they are following.
It is a beautiful feeling, knowing
that you are providing a purpose.

I apologize, though,
being the terrible leader
that I am.
Little do they know,
little, as they should.
I wish I were fortunate enough.

Follow me in the caravan
towards the end.
Faithful lemmings.

The streetlights sometimes
make me feel like something heavenly,
so radiantly vibrant.
Illuminating the road ahead.
Maybe, for once,
I am headed in the right direction.
Unlikely.

And I will take them all with me.

Space Fish

Three. Two. One.
Blast off.

There is something special
in feeling insignificant.
It is not a matter of perspectives
and putting them into any sort
of silly order.
Not at all.

I know that I am mortal,
I know that I am tiny,
but I never knew the extent
of how
until now,
though that never really
meant much to me
at all.

It has nothing to do with
faith or fates,
nothing to do with
love or hate,
and nothing to do with
the future or extending
to the far reaches of space.

But it is just when faced
with the physical infinite,
when it is right outside your window
looking back in on you;
distance,
possibility,
nothing familiar...

You are faced with the notion
that all of this could
come in and crush you
and it would not matter to
the rest of the whole.

It is beautiful.

It is untouched,
never to be jaded,
always pure,
and I welcome it.

Come in
and crush me.
Swallow me completely.
Just never take me back.
Take me to the furthest reaches
of wherever you deem worthy,
and do with me
as you please.

Take me as far as you possibly can.
Take me to the end.

Sympathy for the Atom

It all began with an atom,
a single menial being,
insignificant,
all alone in an ocean of nothing,
all alone in an ocean of nothing,
all alone.
No time to pass through,
no movement to get by,
trapped in the timeless stasis
if that were somewhere to be.
All alone in the absence
of every granted concept,
Oh, how it must have had been so lonely.

Oh, how it must have entertained the thought
of never knowing itself.
Drown it out. Drown it out in a cosmic storm
of creation. Split and separate,
just look at what turned out.
Look before you; look at this brand new world.

Devils and angels, heaven and hell;
God was born from its solitude.
Planets came to be and died,
radiating the surrounding space,
finding rotation and sustainable habitation.
Monsters and men stood erect
and finally discovered the atom existed,
but it didn't take much longer
to forget it was there,
for it to have become an afterthought;
it must have been so lonely.
All alone in this chaotic everything,
all alone in this chaotic everything,
all alone.

Oh, how it must have entertained the thought
of never knowing its children
who only knew it as a weapon, only loved it
out of fear. Split and separate,
just look at what turned out.
Look before you, look what they made you do.

Look at you.
All alone again.

Wind Chimes

Those chimes again,
they sing along with
the snow falling
outside my window;
ringing at every
wild blow of the
hungry wind,
the ravenous beast
burying the world.

It seems the air itself
is supplying the music
for its own chaos.

A radical rhythm,
where one bell’s sound
seems to end, several more
begin.
All filling in each others' spaces,
welcoming in the monster…

“Lay this house to waste.”

They beg,

“Free us from this sill.
Take us away with you.
Winds lift us up
and free us from these walls.
Behind us,

“Lay this house to waste.”

They beg.

The Ride

I’mmortal.

…I broke the Ouroboros.

The tides seem to have a life of their own

as the waves gently suggest my boat

into the night.

Always into the night.

In the distant horizon

I leave my past behind;

my future is uncertain-

it runs a parallel line

with all my other lives.

“All your other lives?” You may be asking yourself.

I have witnessed so many beginnings and ends,

firsts and lasts, and the alphas begetting the omegas.

I have brought this world to its end so many times.

And as I continue this pattern- I may never die.

I ride the tail of the Ouroboros into a new creation

as long as I find the point where its tail’s ingested.

When the universal design is most perfect,

when the culmination of history deems it,

and the buildup of so many personal energies

combined within my own personal universe

finally tells the greater whole that the moment has come.

But this is all mere reflection.

All that exists before me now

is an endless body of water,

me,

and this boat.

What is left of my universe?

I fear that I may have distorted

such intricate design

through far too many lifetimes of tampering.

~ The edges of the world are doorways

into other plains of existence

allowing the sun to exit through the back

and supplying the moon with an entrance

so that she may take center stage again.

Reflecting from the water is a glittering infinity

when the sunset curtain parts and a galaxy

opens up above and below me.

My boat ripples through space.

My body floats along

towards the directionless nothing.

Hours become days as

days turn into months;

months fade into years

as years ease into a meaningless stasis.

Eons pass and

the sky has been completely born anew

so many times over that I have learned familiarity

to be pointless.

Every star has faded from existence

and been replaced

by another star

born from the destruction of the previous.

A wondrous thing, cycles.

It is how the universe keeps itself alive.

I wish it would die.

I wish I could die as well.

One or the other.

It doesn’t matter in the end.

Time. Time. Time.

It comes and goes,

it possesses us,

and it passes us by.

It takes us by the hand

only to take us into the deep ends

within the oceans

that I now know as the vague laws

and concepts that we once thought as absolutes

where it drowns us.

I now see immortality as a mistake

an incalculable amount of lifetimes too late.

Meditation. The universe has a pulse. It contracts and expands. It is breathing. The breaths used to be getting greater and greater, inhaling more nothingness and exhaling space. But, as it was designed to do so, it is now taking shorter breaths. It is slowing shrinking down on us. It will continue to do so until the lungs collapse and the spine supporting this universal body breaks. It will fall within itself and as the stomach swallows and digests it, all this compacted and collected mass will be pulled into a single spot so tightly that it will explode and re-expand again as a new life-form entirely. This is the body that they seem to call god, but it is just a series of currents, vibrations, and energies. That is all of what makes us up. Veins, the life force that we throw ourselves into. We ride these currents and paddle against them. We choose alternative routes. In the end though, we are all a part of the same circulatory system. We are all cells, a dismal fraction of a larger body. But at the same time we all possess our own personal universe; this fantastic energy that surrounds us and makes us up. It is constantly being altered as well, and has its own pulse that combines with all the other energies that contributes to the great whole. Whenever two universes merge within the chaos of the great whole, they are altered and will never be the same again. These circumstances can be from anything as minute as a random brush of a stranger’s elbow on the sidewalk to a new deep friendship to the great embrace of a lover and bringing new lives and their universes into this great whole. Energies are combining and clashing, they are moving and even if we don’t notice, especially with the more minute combinations, everything is different. Your personal universe is altered.

Too bad I am the only one left alive

within the greater whole.

There hasn’t been another soul for so very long.

Nothing contributing towards the greater whole

which means no more energies to bring upon a great reinvention.

Nothing contributing towards my own personal universe

which means stasis.

I just lie on this boat and wait for my own personal pulse to slow

and fade

and die.

I don’t know if this will ever happen though.

I think I may have done something terribly wrong.

Nature, forgive me.

How I miss age and counting down the years to my death.

All those ambiguous concepts.

Oh; how this world bores me now.

There is no end to the Ouroboros.

The tail cannot be removed from its mouth,

but rather the ring that it makes up can expand

infinitely.

The universe will still end where design has set it to begin-

without ever beginning if extended far enough.

Uni-Verse.