Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
We Have Forgotten
Time Square
The dreams, I cannot escape them! Have you ever been afraid to sleep? I am. As soon as I close my eyes images of demons and human pain take the stage. Like a horrible, never-ending Broadway show, the vilest intricacies of human existence plague my sub-conscience. I love the spirit and the spirit loves me, but religion haunts my dreams; charred human flesh bound to burning crosses, human emotion crucified on the hill of religious conviction, the severing of the heads of those I love by the guillotine of forgetfulness and darkness, this is my lot in the night.
The heat of the coffee in my hands does little to dispel the cold left by my sleep. Looking out my seventh-story window at the cement, metal and glass of the city, I can feel the people that inhabited it, but I grow weary of their aching. I have enough trouble of my own why should I have to bear their pain as well?
Coat, hat, shoes the same as every other day. Grabbing the doorknob, I sighed.
“Why am I here?” I breathe aloud, but as every other day, I start my walk to the museum.
Stopping at the edge of Time Square I look around, it seems abnormally full of cars and people today.
I feel very cold, as I do when I dream. I can sense it, sense something, that same something I know I have been waiting for the whole of my existence. I can feel, intensely, the pain and emotion of the people who fill the square, betrayal, anger, sorrow, grief, but most of all loneliness, a feeling of utter disconnectedness. I shutter under the weight of the emotion and some small part of me cried out to the Maker I thought I did not know. Somehow, I knew this must come. I knew that my dreams must inevitably collide with my reality. I knew the dreams had been more than simple tremors in my sub-conscience and now my greatest fears were being realized!
A somehow familiar presence stood in the man at my side. It is easy to be next to him. Where had he come from? I do not know, and I guess I do not care, but for some reason the weight I had been feeling eased, so whoever he is I am pleased he is here.
“They all look so sad, so alone.” I said to the man at my side. I did not normally speak to strangers, and I didn’t know why I felt so comfortable speaking to this man. Without ever having seen his face, I felt as if I could tell him anything. He was silent, but I waited trusting he would answer.
“They have forgotten,” he said in a soft voice that eased the knots from my center, and made me warmer than I had been in months.
“Forgotten what?” I asked not wanting him to stop talking, but I turned and he had gone.
“Hmm,” I said looking around. I could have sworn there was just someone here.
Feeling that I may be crazy, I began to move when the signs bright red WALK lit up. A lovely blonde woman walked at my side. Her stiletto heels tapped against the pavement rhythmically as we moved. Her classy, black pencil suit made me feel frumpy, and her diamond earrings reminded me of the expense of living in this damn city.
Turning to me, she smiled and I went to return the kind gesture, but before the smile could spread across my face the skin at the corners of her light, pink, lips began to tear and bleed. Blood spread across her, now bare gums and teeth and the tearing continued. I gasped in horror as her perfect skin pulled away from her face, revealing bone and muscle. Her lovely body shriveled beneath the black, pencil suit and began to writhe. Laughing, it, she, the demon creature, turned to me and began to circle.
“They will never remember,” it screeched! “Never! Never!” it laughed, dancing hideously around me!
The dreams, I cannot escape them! Have you ever been afraid to sleep? I am. As soon as I close my eyes images of demons and human pain take the stage. Like a horrible, never-ending Broadway show, the vilest intricacies of human existence plague my sub-conscience. I love the spirit and the spirit loves me, but religion haunts my dreams; charred human flesh bound to burning crosses, human emotion crucified on the hill of religious conviction, the severing of the heads of those I love by the guillotine of forgetfulness and darkness, this is my lot in the night.
The heat of the coffee in my hands does little to dispel the cold left by my sleep. Looking out my seventh-story window at the cement, metal and glass of the city, I can feel the people that inhabited it, but I grow weary of their aching. I have enough trouble of my own why should I have to bear their pain as well?
Coat, hat, shoes the same as every other day. Grabbing the doorknob, I sighed.
“Why am I here?” I breathe aloud, but as every other day, I start my walk to the museum.
Stopping at the edge of Time Square I look around, it seems abnormally full of cars and people today.
I feel very cold, as I do when I dream. I can sense it, sense something, that same something I know I have been waiting for the whole of my existence. I can feel, intensely, the pain and emotion of the people who fill the square, betrayal, anger, sorrow, grief, but most of all loneliness, a feeling of utter disconnectedness. I shutter under the weight of the emotion and some small part of me cried out to the Maker I thought I did not know. Somehow, I knew this must come. I knew that my dreams must inevitably collide with my reality. I knew the dreams had been more than simple tremors in my sub-conscience and now my greatest fears were being realized!
A somehow familiar presence stood in the man at my side. It is easy to be next to him. Where had he come from? I do not know, and I guess I do not care, but for some reason the weight I had been feeling eased, so whoever he is I am pleased he is here.
“They all look so sad, so alone.” I said to the man at my side. I did not normally speak to strangers, and I didn’t know why I felt so comfortable speaking to this man. Without ever having seen his face, I felt as if I could tell him anything. He was silent, but I waited trusting he would answer.
“They have forgotten,” he said in a soft voice that eased the knots from my center, and made me warmer than I had been in months.
“Forgotten what?” I asked not wanting him to stop talking, but I turned and he had gone.
“Hmm,” I said looking around. I could have sworn there was just someone here.
Feeling that I may be crazy, I began to move when the signs bright red WALK lit up. A lovely blonde woman walked at my side. Her stiletto heels tapped against the pavement rhythmically as we moved. Her classy, black pencil suit made me feel frumpy, and her diamond earrings reminded me of the expense of living in this damn city.
Turning to me, she smiled and I went to return the kind gesture, but before the smile could spread across my face the skin at the corners of her light, pink, lips began to tear and bleed. Blood spread across her, now bare gums and teeth and the tearing continued. I gasped in horror as her perfect skin pulled away from her face, revealing bone and muscle. Her lovely body shriveled beneath the black, pencil suit and began to writhe. Laughing, it, she, the demon creature, turned to me and began to circle.
“They will never remember,” it screeched! “Never! Never!” it laughed, dancing hideously around me!
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