Event Horizon

A few nights ago I was lying in the bed of a truck, speeding along the highway at night; cold, and calm. Collected. All I could see was up. What was behind us as we sped along I have only ideas of; speeding coupes, angry 4x4's, mini-vans, the police. Only ideas. In the strangest way all I could think about was what was above me, what glittered against the black tapestry, what sparkled in some distant unfathomable space. I can't remember if I could hear the way the tires spun against the concrete, or if I could even sense how fast we were moving, I just kept looking up. Under the overpass, back under the sky. Did I feel insignificant? Did knowing that I am not even as much in the universe as one measly star make life seem even more meaningless, even more unintelligible? Yes. But then I thought of what my life was like mere months before- how mundane my mode of thinking, how pathetic my outlook, how cruel my action-and the insignificance was no longer crippling. It was inspiring, because though you may just be some small blip in the grand scheme, you have the most influence on yourself, you are not insignificant when it comes to your own life: it will be what you want it to be, as long as you try your hardest make it so. Things do not fall out of the sky and land on your doorstep, life will not turn out how you want it to be if you do not put yourself into a position to receive it, to build it to what you imagine, and dream. Laziness is poison, apathy will get you as far as nowhere, and complacency will pull you backward.
Life has no meaning, so why be afraid of it? Why take it so seriously? Why should we care that nothing matters, why not love that fact? It might be hard to find what moves you, and it may be even harder to attain whatever it is that does, but what a useless waste of heart and mind it would be to go throughout life waiting, waiting for it to give you what you want; decades of indifference, a century of indecision, and end singed with regret and longing. What an utter shame.
I thought of the future, and all its promise, the present, and how different it was from the past, all because I finally saw that what I had become was wrong, and how it hurt other people. I felt changed, new again-reminded by the difficulty and inspired by it all the same. I gripped the side of the bed, pulled myself up, and screamed into the blurring backdrop of the night, screamed until my eyes filled with tears.

It's hard to admit it

but when you do, you grow.

I had an idea that you were the skyline
of the the city
in the middle of June;
there I am
drifting along the overpass,
and there you are,
lost in the concrete jungles but I know
you are there.
My stomach turns.

You are the skyline, a dream
covered in a warm vintage haze
an 8mm stock film reel of smiles
the beach
rolling hills of green, and summer.
Of summer.

But if I could just open my eyes
and keep in touch with all the realities
it would be easier.
I would not fear the skyscrapers,
the familiar ceilings
the all-too-familiar feelings
and I wouldn't drown in senseless idealism.

Are you that pause in conversation?
the solitude of broad daylight,
passing images on the tv
moving pictures on the silver screen,
glances skyward
first thoughts in morning,
seven words in the middle of a song,
last thoughts in the night

Or is that someone else I've conjured with your likeness
an unrealistic mirage molded of my indecision
my anguish, my callousness,
built from separation and the hatred
of all the things that never were
But should have been.
Would have been.
But couldn't be
: is this where they have found their place?

My insides are wrenched with failure,
but I am asleep on the overpass,
with you blaring out the radio
sound-waves through the stereo
five words in the chorus
I can find you anywhere.

And so today you'll be the skyline,
in the middle of June.



*I really like this. It's one of the few things I have written where I can't think of anything to change.

Monday, monday

Besarin Quartett : Mehr Als Alles Andere

A really nice song to help me bludgeon through Ethics.