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Old Habits

               It creeps inside like a trapped between lie, flexing and brushing as it worms it’s way through. Best defense cast aside and the child is shaking outside in the dark. Tears fall from his eyes as they stare through the wheat stalks, hidden by the innocence of youth behind the negligence of dreams and naive ideas. Staring up and out into the vast unknown, wondering on what wonderful things might be hidden in the countless twinkling lights. The night deepens and the dark becomes threatening. What unknown terrors await to trap and ensnare the unsure and unstable? Shadows flit and fly as his eyes continue their watery dance, all while the stars beckon and the moon forgives.

               His smile is represented in stone. It’s a tricky thing to talk about and even harder to think, when I see his eyes open in terror and then close against the fight. I feel the curse tightening daily and wonder at the theme. Benevolent creator save me from the knowledge of the end, I’m threatened by it daily and fear it always. Like a candle lit in youth and expected to last. Like a kiss from your soul that never lasted long enough. As the wax turns to air and the soul flees from thy side, so shall your smile too one day be represented in stone.

               Life flee me fast. Leave me dazed and completely unaware. Trace me from existence as a dying star. And love me all the more once I’ve gone.

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Posted by on February 17, 2016 in Paradise Drift

 

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Truth in Color

Thoughts of violence and passive apathy clash like titans in a world drowned in silence. Metaphors get tied up in riddles so that none may discern the truth. For if the soul is shred open and the truth finally escapes, would it not be bathed in the myths of the ages? Would there indeed be no chivalrous Knight charging his way towards glory? If you would only take the time to speak to the ashes of yesterday and allowed the lessons to break through prideful walls and exemplary business models, well you might just find your mind swimming with the possibilities. Can you not hear the wind? It calls for you.

When the reward for some is the devil to others and when the world has come full turn. Will the snow melt away to reveal the spring or will the cold never flee? Will the sun shine on in silent judgement and watch as we drift into black? Will it ever have a chance to bear witness to our end or will this disease of hate send us spinning much sooner? Questions asked before the end only ever bring the pain of knowledge. Madman or not the end result is the same and ashes will be ashes and dust will of course be dust and the world will exist only so long as you can conceive it. Can you not hear the wind? It calls for you my friend.

 
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Posted by on January 28, 2016 in Paradise Drift

 

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When you find out Everything Dies

He remembers the coarse feel of the dried grass as it crunched under his bare feet. The field was vast and he could see nothing in the distance except for a vast expanse of pale brown. He remembers nothing of before. He tries to grasp the name that men used to call him but every time he gets close to the thought it flits away like some sort of demonic pixie playing tricks on him. He looks down and sees that he is a thin man wearing a stained plain white tee and faded denim jeans. He continues walking for a time before he finds his voice and screams out to the empty expanse for someone, anyone, to help him. No one responds but that does little to deter his voice as he screams louder and louder, until finally his voice is gone and the only sound that escapes him resembles that of a death rattle. He collapses to the earth and lays down in the rough field, slowly yet most assuredly, sleep finds him and sends him on his way once more.

Water splashes him in the face and snaps him rudely out of sleep and into a sitting position. He hears the screams from the men on the deck around him, muted by the howling winds and crashing waves. A man with the fear of God in his eyes shouts at him to get up and help, otherwise they are all going down to Poseidon’s home and not a one of them will survive. He stands and looks around frantically, for though he knows he stands on a boat he has no clue as to what he can possibly do to help. He looks off to port and see’s a wave that is stretching so high that it blocks out the horizon. He watches as it collapses over him and all he sees is black. He can feel hands clutching his ankles and trying to pull themselves up his legs. He kicks the hands loose and swings at the water just praying that he is headed up rather than down. Just as his lungs have passed the point of burning and are ready to explode his head breaks the surface.

All is calm and the sun is lowering itself behind the western horizon. He finds himself still in a vast expanse of water, he can’t taste salt on his lips so he knows it must be fresh. He can’t begin to comprehend what he is doing here or how he even came to find himself naked and swimming here. He picks east as his direction and swims away from the sun for a time, until his limbs are finally so weary that they begin to feel like water themselves. He looks back behind him and sees that the sun has moved only slightly, even though he felt that he must have been swimming for more than two hours. He kicks his legs up and settles back against the water, letting it slowly rock him while he can regain use of his weary muscles. He feels it as an inkling at first but very soon sleep is pulling him down into it’s depths. He fights because he knows if he rests than surely he will drown but something about the warm sun slung low in the western sky becomes hypnotic and he lets go of consciousness and allows sleep to pull him into yet another great unknown.

 
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Posted by on April 15, 2015 in Paradise Drift

 

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Reason

               And so it begins, social phobia settin’ in, and it’s like I can feel all of their eyes crawlin’ across my skin. And I know that they’re wonderin’… because they’re always wonderin’.
               I stretch the limit past the reason, peeling open my skull and searching every fuckin’ season, because I must find the source of this open pourin’ lesion. Gotta stop the bleedin’… gotta find the reason.
               A shadow cast against every happy memory, the darkness in the back over every face I see, because I know that they’re dead, just as dead as fuckin’ me. How much farther can it be… and how much more must I bleed?
               Then I found my smile cause I smoked an ounce, saw death in my dreams just waitin’ to pounce, but it was written in words I couldn’t properly pronounce, because the reaper told a secret I just couldn’t announce.
               Like dreams of stone drawn upon the sand, or a dreaming woman lost inside a man, or the stretched out palm of his sweaty hand, or like a broken prospector mining goldless land. What happened to the plan, did it die with the lamb, what happened to the plan? Please God, save this man.
              

 
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Posted by on April 1, 2015 in Paradise Drift

 

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No Matter

               Tendons and wires composed of broken inhibitions, struggle to hold the head aloft. The stomach threatens rebellion as will alone keeps the stomach spasms from inciting the riot. The pain has become as familiar as that little voice that never learned to leave. Whispers of frail mortal mockery leave a festering sting that only deepens as the coffin closes on yet another precious life. It breaks like waves upon a stubborn rock wall, patiently waiting for the stone to weaken, crack and break. Liquid flows like death across the path ahead, all the while the shores behind grow pale and dark in their passing. It’s something inescapable. It’s something that hides behind smiling eyes and molten anger. A measure of intelligence and understanding. Fade from memory much like the calloused hands behind monolithic stone. Immortality only gained as a questionable guess.

               Imagine a guess extended the length of time. Imperfections and insecurities stripped bare like meat from bone. A floating intuition left burning in the darkened sky, casting hope to weary hearts and tear burned eyes. Felt like a secondary heart beat that flees through the eyes once it’s companion falls. It’s something hidden there. Just behind the eyes. Imagine a guess extended beyond eternity.

 
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Posted by on February 14, 2015 in Paradise Drift

 

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