I am comforted by something bigger than me.
I don't speak, or think.
I simply bask in beauty.
And all is well.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Reverie #2
I watch my silhouette against the pale sidewalk. The wind distrupts the floating limbs above me. Through an intricate map of branches, rays of sun dissipate the burdens I carry on my shoulders.
I am comforted by something bigger than me.
I don't speak, or think.
I simply bask in beauty.
And all is well.
I am comforted by something bigger than me.
I don't speak, or think.
I simply bask in beauty.
And all is well.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Reverie
It begins on the cusp of a dream.
I am running from something, through an open field on a paisley carpet. I am not scared, I just know that I must run. I am in an empty hallway illuminated by incandescent lights on a sterile tile floor and I dissolve through to the floor below, my father and I watching an HBO TV show in a modest looking hotel room.
I wake up suddenly, in a daze, feeling for the alarm on the other side of the room. It's placed there to insure that I wake up fully as I stumble across the length of the room.
My conscious mind flashes on like a strobe and an image of her is instantly projected on to my eyelids, like a shot, nervous elation filling my stomach.
I snap out of the trance, realizing I must begin the day.
I place my keys by the cracked open window, change into my shorts, lace up my shoes, grab my iPod, and head out the door to the nearest treadmill.
Running is the middle ground between the daze of sleep and the surge of reality.
I am free to think childish selfish thoughts, unfiltered by my half-awake mind. My imagination is running rampant. I fantasize about short film ideas that I excitedly write down once the elapsed time hits 22:02.
As I shower, my mind is finally in its normal state. The disposition of the day has finally began to weigh down on me. I go through the mindless routine of getting ready.
The slam of the door behind me as I leave my room lets me know the day has begun.
Walking from class to class is a transitional period my mind takes full advantage of. Thoughts weave through my brain at blurred speeds. My body merely a vessel for this overbearing wave of rational and irrational thought.
Other times, my mind sits in silence.
The music flowing through my ears suppressing any sort of thought. My eyes are lenses, my mind a camera. I am a documentarian filming day to day life with hopes of capturing something beautiful and real.
I focus in on two people standing to the side a way ahead of me. They are dressed head to toe in black, the cuffs of their pants lay like abandoned parachutes on the cracked pavement. Slipknot on one shirt, black stripes overtaking white stripes on the other.
Before my mind passes some harsh undeserved judgment on both, one of them erupts in laughter.
And at that moment, I realize that we are one in the same person. I am reminded of their humanity by this outburst of human emotion. I couldn't help but smile to myself, sharing in her joy and realizing my foolishness.
I am running from something, through an open field on a paisley carpet. I am not scared, I just know that I must run. I am in an empty hallway illuminated by incandescent lights on a sterile tile floor and I dissolve through to the floor below, my father and I watching an HBO TV show in a modest looking hotel room.
I wake up suddenly, in a daze, feeling for the alarm on the other side of the room. It's placed there to insure that I wake up fully as I stumble across the length of the room.
My conscious mind flashes on like a strobe and an image of her is instantly projected on to my eyelids, like a shot, nervous elation filling my stomach.
I snap out of the trance, realizing I must begin the day.
I place my keys by the cracked open window, change into my shorts, lace up my shoes, grab my iPod, and head out the door to the nearest treadmill.
Running is the middle ground between the daze of sleep and the surge of reality.
I am free to think childish selfish thoughts, unfiltered by my half-awake mind. My imagination is running rampant. I fantasize about short film ideas that I excitedly write down once the elapsed time hits 22:02.
As I shower, my mind is finally in its normal state. The disposition of the day has finally began to weigh down on me. I go through the mindless routine of getting ready.
The slam of the door behind me as I leave my room lets me know the day has begun.
Walking from class to class is a transitional period my mind takes full advantage of. Thoughts weave through my brain at blurred speeds. My body merely a vessel for this overbearing wave of rational and irrational thought.
Other times, my mind sits in silence.
The music flowing through my ears suppressing any sort of thought. My eyes are lenses, my mind a camera. I am a documentarian filming day to day life with hopes of capturing something beautiful and real.
I focus in on two people standing to the side a way ahead of me. They are dressed head to toe in black, the cuffs of their pants lay like abandoned parachutes on the cracked pavement. Slipknot on one shirt, black stripes overtaking white stripes on the other.
Before my mind passes some harsh undeserved judgment on both, one of them erupts in laughter.
And at that moment, I realize that we are one in the same person. I am reminded of their humanity by this outburst of human emotion. I couldn't help but smile to myself, sharing in her joy and realizing my foolishness.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Climbing the Confines
Passing worn pavement at 75 miles per hour, my extended hand glides on top of the air. I close my eyes for a split second just to see if I can. When I open them I realize we're all silently looking at the passing cars and foliage, music flowing from the speakers to our senses. We're in the time of silence, when all that immediately needed to be said has been said. There is nothing we don't know about one another. Only the things we've always wanted to say but haven't are hidden away in the dark corners of our minds. I snap back into reality.
I am wasting money, I am wasting time, I should be home, but I am following a pipe dream to a city 400 miles away.
And
I
feel
free.
Placating dreams of living life to the fullest, I push the thoughts aside.
"Oh cause I can see your ships from here, now all the weather so bright and clear", he belts off the stage into the crowded theatre. His violin sends a sweet melodic sound that flows from the speakers to our senses. We are assigned to a movement constricting seating arrangement. We have seats 10, 11, and 12, all of about 4 ft. to move with the music. There are senior citizens everywhere, maintaining the peace by asking people to stay in there seats. When our restlessness climbed to a slow boil, we pushed over the confines and past the senior ushers, dancing our way down the aisle to the front of the stage, Mr. Bird providing the soundtrack to our recklessness.
And
I
feel
free.
I am wasting money, I am wasting time, I should be home, but I am following a pipe dream to a city 400 miles away.
And
I
feel
free.
Placating dreams of living life to the fullest, I push the thoughts aside.
"Oh cause I can see your ships from here, now all the weather so bright and clear", he belts off the stage into the crowded theatre. His violin sends a sweet melodic sound that flows from the speakers to our senses. We are assigned to a movement constricting seating arrangement. We have seats 10, 11, and 12, all of about 4 ft. to move with the music. There are senior citizens everywhere, maintaining the peace by asking people to stay in there seats. When our restlessness climbed to a slow boil, we pushed over the confines and past the senior ushers, dancing our way down the aisle to the front of the stage, Mr. Bird providing the soundtrack to our recklessness.
And
I
feel
free.
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