Up in Smoke

I exhaled as the disgustingly satisfying smoke passed my lips. I relieve myself in the horrible pass-time, but no matter how many cigarettes i smoked, i was certain i'd never come to enjoy the taste. In my opinion (and surely shared by many others) it was a disgusting practice, but that didn't matter, i was a smoker now.
I stood outside, under the canopy of a small store. The ground damp from an earlier shower, and my breath a fog, not just from smoke, but cold.
Fiddling with the light white burning stick in my hand, i felt awkward. It was still new to me, the practice of in taking a known carcinogen. And despite its wide common practice, the activity is greatly looked down upon. I was even ironically scrutinized by my already smoking friends for taking up the past time. Not that I didn't agree
... why did i start?
I wonder what she'd think if she knew i had started smoking. I imagine the twisted expression she might wear, and feel a heart full of guilt. Inhaling the horrible fumes of smoke, the flavor retched..
i reminisce the warm faded memories past. Crackled and gray like an old film, i replay the treasured memories without wear in my head.
Smoke clouds past my lips and drifts charismatically towards the heavens. The sky is hazy, and far off, with only a few nightly stars making their appearance.
I run through one cigarette and then light the next, filling my lungs once again with their poison.

What little do i have to live for anymore.. ?
Slowly poisoning myself.

Funtionablility. Each day i play court jester to my own reality. Pitting myself as a fool, so i can easily live in the world of others. My smiles are believable, my laughs almost true, my interests are insightful, my future visions have bottomless depth. Yes, i play it well, for others, for me, an almost flawless facade. But my heart and mind grow weary and i fall down in my lonely shadows, cursing myself and the part i play, and others for being just the same.
The embering cigarette crackles as i shake my dark thoughts. Groggily sinking with each exhale, the weight of this pathetic drug beats my struggling mind into submission. I pull in deeper with every drag, unsatisfied that my stress has yet to diminish. I've never been so spiteful, but a lonely heart is filled with bitter sorrow and malice. And mine is forever darkening in seclusion, as memories draw deeper into the past.
When my heart clenches and my breath quickens.. i can feel my physical downward fall, as my new little addiction has gracefully taken it's toll. I'll indulge once more, as my soul cries out, and take deep breath of the smoke that makes my body fall more. I fall, i reflect, all the memories i wish i didn't want to forget.
This is the only thing i can do without killing myself. I chuckle at my own humorous assurances, but deep down i know it's true. This is the only way i can kill myself without dying... right away. Slowly, but surely, i'll die just as much as i have already inside.
I could imagine her face twist...
and I feel a heart full of guilt. I finished off my cigarette.
It was too late now, I was already killing myself.

(11/13/08 11:43 PM)

Silence

A night time silence is different from any other. It hums eerily, buzzing in your ears a hallowing quite that does not desist till the sun breaks dawn. I inhale the still peace and digest my solitude, as my heart yearns for freedom from the lonely confides of an empty night. My love for night's private dreamland of dark is always a constant craving. It delights my weary soul, but the true reality is bitter. In the silent shadows, just how alone i am is reflected. When was it the stars of night became so far?
The night grew so sweet within their presence, a friendly celestial spectator to share my woes. Silence was there, shared, not alone. Soundless breaths, soundless heartbeats felt on the quite rhythm of day's eve. This is where life began, cultivated in the warming dreams of curious minds. Creative and desperate, forever striding for the stars, a place i'd like to be... there they are now, reaching for the heavens, leagues ahead of me.
My fingers fumble, grasping on empty, i bite my lip and smile. Yes, i am happy for them.

I rock back into the silence, i've fallen so deeply in. It's no longer the same, but i still love it.
Alone, my hearts cries, as loudly as it can. It's night time, and sound is unheard and quite.

Nothing breaks the night, nothing breaks the silence. And the silence of night is like no other...

(12/20/08 2:45AM)

Never forgotten, just gone.

(This I created 3/9/08 in a write off with my friend in depiction of a story about a man losing his past in a manner similar to schizophrenia or Alzheimer’s)

Transparent clarity

vivid folds within my memory

All that was and in creation elapsed

formed firmly, without falter

What lies ahead breaks the past

rewriting what can't be changed

What is and what is mine, clash

collapsing all within my reality

Restrained to the unbelievable

captured in the missing pieces

Helplessly pressed forward

into the broken future

Losing everything i remember

engulfed within a foreign world

sense has lost all life

What will do i have to fight?

I read this now, and realize the truth it contains within the sane mind of everyday. There comes a point where the reality of now makes us unable to visit the memories of past. No matter how well we remember, change alters perception, new realities to each passing day. We change, the elements change, and what we know no longer fits to what is or was. In the end we've out grown the things we've known, our pasts fractured parallels. We never forget, but lose our associations. Those memories ranging good to possibly bad, leave us, with all their cherishable worth. Those memories you'll have, they'll no longer be yours. Only memories, of memories. Nothing more.
Concrete within my mind, cherished and whole in my heart, my memories will never fade.
But now they’re gone..
No longer can I relive, revisit, nor see what clearly once was, because the characters no longer exist. Me, in my memory, i will always be there.. but you have out grown my memory.
Do I say goodbye?

Here and Now

Hollowing out in true reality, the matter of existence and certainty are the true ravels in this world. Accounting each day before us as we live only in the moments of now, the past only perception and future never perceived. Can we stand firmly to which we know? Are we really standing at all, and where we stand, is it even real?
I light a cigarette, as I stand at the deck's edge, one step from the tan seaweed covered sand. The sky was just a few shades brighter then the dark miserable gray of the sea. The weather was slightly cold, and the strong beach breeze didn't carry any help. I coughed each time the wind blew my cigarette's smoke into my face, and decided to bud it out; it really wasn't helping my contemplative state.
This wasn't the first time I didn't know where I was, not exactly, that is. Like what I remember, and where I am, don't match up. Yes, I remember, but I, myself, do not remember. Like events that happen aren't with participation of me, even though I'm there. How could that make sense? I know it doesn't, but that's exactly how it is.
Biting my lip, I decide to relight my started cigarette. Who needs to think this much, anyways? I sneeze a little at the smoke, but enjoy in it's warming scent. I step off the deck, and walk along the sand, each foot sinking a little with each forward pace.
Right now, am I here? Right now, everything around me, is it real? I see it, I feel it, I smell it… but is it real?
Stumbling upon the uneven sands, I trip letting myself fall. I know I feel the cold dampness of the ground.. But I don't.
If reality is all upon how you perceive it, then if you don't perceive it, is nothing real?
I roll over to lye my upon my back. In my fall I ended my embering cigarette's life prematurely, and decide to light another. I draped my arm over my eyes, and inhaled the sweet flavored smoke. Buried in the darkness behind my eyes, I listened to the silence that only my mind could create.
Now this was real.

The Sound of Insanity

A whirl back into the place of unforgiving distress folds out in a way only the rhythm of the night could play. Not that the lonely tune doesn't follow in the shadows of day, but the song of a disconnected heart is crystal early ante meridian.
Here I am once again at the beginning of another day, wondering where I am, who I am, what I'm doing, with pulsing notes streaming through my headphones encouraging my altering state of mind. The chemical reactions between mind and music stir my heart into a frenzy of aching discontent.
The solitude, the music, or most likely the combination.. I crave this horrible sensation all the more, like I've finally waken up.
Is it true?
Each day when the sun spills it's burning glare over the horizon, does my heart stop yearning, does my mind stop dreaming?
I begin my smiling act, socializing, fitting in. But with the music, with the night, i remember who i am and shame to how i live my days. And question all again. Who, what, where.. and indefinitely why.
Why.
I don't know.
Processing, pondering, struggling with all efforts to find reason.. yet day breaks too soon, and once again I'm lost in a pattern of facades and stereotypes.
The repeated track plays, and I know the chorus by heart.

Encounter

x

I had barely gotten any sleep that night, which i was deeply greatful for. If i had been more awake now, i'd be shivering anxiously in my shoes. The flight had arrived a few minutes early, i was cautiously and carefully following the herd of rushing people through the maze like airport, towards what i presumed would be the baggage claim. I checked the time on my phone, and once again the text message in my in box, ":] see you soon!". My heart fluttered at the thought. I nervously rushed into the next sited bathroom, and stood before the large spread of mirrors. Did i look okay? Was i okay? Am i okay?
I smoothed my hands over my cloths, brushed my hair behind my ears, pulled out a compact from my shoulder bag and powdered my nose. Inching close up to the mirror, i stared deeply at my reflection, giving myself a few test smiles. My brows furrowed with tension. Sighing, I wince. This would be the best i could do. I pulled away from the mirror, gathered myself once more with one last glance at my sorry reflection. I took a deep shakey breath and headed back toward my trek to the baggage claim. Each step growing lighter and more careful as i knew i neared my destination. I slowed to a stop. At the next turn, around this corner, straight to the right, baggage claim. "we'll meet you at the baggage claim", one of my previous texts mentioned. My knees quivered, and my breath became a quick whisper. "Don't be silly!" I paced in a small circle to calm my nerves before braving to turn the corner. "It'll be okay." There was baggage claim. I scanned the large area, filled with crowds of people waving and greeting other arrivals. Would my friend be among them? I continued forward, step step step, calm calm calm. And a few yards before me, there they were, there he was. My heart pulsed, and my step wobbled a little. i frantically grasped at the air for mental support. But as loose as the air was in my fingers, so seemed my thoughts within my head with each progressing step.
"Hi." i automatically smiled and briefed a glance at him.
There he was, for the first time to be seen with my eyes. Taller then i expected. There was a rich fragrance in the air..
"Hello there. I'm ______'s dad, it's nice to finally meet you." The man beside him greeted. Slightly a bit shorter then ______, with gray hair, and matching mustache. His eyes were wide and a curious mix of gold and silver. He spoke with a smile. a smile with a light curl on his lips, that seemed rather smirk-ish.
"Do i get a hug?" _____'s father's voice was feathered with a southern accent.
"Of course!" i chimed nervously, as i gave a quick light embrace. So this was his father, such a skinny thing, nothing like i imagined.
"Well, which one is your suitcase?" ______ inquired.
"um... I'm not sure."
"How can you not know?" ______ sighed with a hint of annoyed disbelief.
Of course i knew what my suitcase looked like.. but my mind was everywhere at once. Touching every possible thought, shuffling memory, with possibilities and presence. The distinguishable features of my bag just didn't seem to weigh any importance to the tumbling words/images in my head. But i concentrated, surfacing it's image to the top and waited to see it pass on the conveyor belt.
"Well, go get it."
I gave a nod in reply, and awkwardly stepped forward to claim my bag.

x

For all the years we've known each other.. I was dreaming now(I've dreamed, but never this deeply). Here we dance once again, same consequences, new stage. Will i fall victim to the delicate scenario once again? I hope so.

x

Pulling my suitcase behind me, with a vigorous thunk, thunk, thunk with every forward pace. I was led to the direction of the parked truck. Cocking my head to the side, i glanced at ______ 's lower back side. His slim legs so graceful with each step, not a jolt in his smooth tight figure as he treaded quickly forward. When he turn his head my way, to speak, i quickly straightened my head and let my eyes wonder.
"Welcome to hell, since it's almost just as hot" he smirked sheepishly.
But as soon as his attention returned to his forward stride, my head fell back into a tilt. "what a gorgeous backside.."

x

Stain

The air was heavy and moist with humidity, the sun's fierce golden rays dazzled all it touched, and the clouds in the placid blue sky, few. Katydids shrilled, and tree leaves ruffled with the light breeze. I let the sun brighten my pale skin, as i lay upon the patio in the concealment of my own back yard. The sun blazed upon the lids of my closed eyes, a collage of brilliant red, but nothing as beautiful as blood red. It felt delicious being blanketed by such intense warmth, as it heated me to the core. I couldn't say it didn't make me swelter, but that's why today was so perfect.
The blood streamed out of the deep gashes on my forearms, it felt kind of like sweat, and tickled as it ran down my skin. A peculiar sensation that i had to resist itching at. So i turned my thoughts attention to something else.
Europe, i wish i could of gone there. I never could of afforded it, but how fun it would be. Experiencing a new world, different lives, and exotic culture. I remember reading in countless travel books all the favored and top sights to see. I probably accumulated enough information about Europe to convince someone I've been on countless trips. But knowing is nothing at all like experiencing.
I continued to think, as the warmth drained from my body. It felt good. The summer air was no longer that hot, and the sun no longer that bright, as it felt like everything were dimming into night. Although my backside was now deeply wet with the pooling of my blood, i was becoming so disorientated, i couldn't really care to find it uncomfortable. Glad i wasn't wearing anything special. I meandered in my dipping thoughts as my consciousness started to fade. In a moment like this, i felt i should have someone, something, to miss, but i didn't. So, i missed nothing, and it was lonely. My breath was now intensely slow, and barely a whisper. I let the sensation of sleep sweep over me. And at the end, I frowned.
What a horrible stain this would leave on my patio.