The Back-Alley God

The sun lowered in the sky, creating a shadowy figure on the autumn leaves that Sue lay on. The shadow resembled a hand growing in size, reaching out the more the sun went down. Sue noticed these details. Sue noticed the patterns of the days. She sat in the park, in a pile of autumn leaves with the journal that her father had made for her. It’s cover was made from wood. It had an engraving of a dead tree snapped in half with orchid flowers growing from the trunk where the tree had broken. Above the orchid flowers was one lone dragonfly. Underneath the tree he had engraved a saying of his, Within the death of nature blooms something to accent the beauty that once was. Sue’s father had disappeared when she was eight. Still, there was no lead to his disappearance. He had vanished like wind after a storm. Every day, she would go to the park because the park is where he would bring her when she was younger. She remembered autumn the most because they would play in the leaves together. It was autumn now and she missed him more than ever.
Sue continued to watch the patterns of the clouds morph into horse like figures and break apart into the sky's population. She got eye level with the ground and watched the ants move through the grass. She dropped leaves in their paths, throwing off their senses. The ants stopped, then instinctively moved around them. Sue noticed little spiders moving around on the surface of the leaves. She started writing: These spiders are more than just spiders, they are artists. They will find their tree that they call home and weave their instinctive patterns from tree branch to tree branch. These spiders are the true artists of the world driven by the instinct of beauty. She noticed the pattern in the brown, yellow and orange leaves and wondered if God had planned these patterns out or if it was just her eyes that saw them.
It was sunset and Sue was losing light. She stood up from the pile of leaves and grabbed her bag from the grass and packed her journal inside. Dark clouds started to move through the sky. Sue had been helping run a late night service at the local church. Tonight, she knew she’d hear, God is the controller of everything. She often wondered what everything meant to everyone else. She wondered if God knew where her father had gone and if God did, did God really care at all? She wondered why she still bothered to go. Never had her time in church ever done anything for her. She thought about time if she wasn’t there. Life didn’t seem like it would be too much different.
Sue took the route she’d normally take to get to church. It began raining so Sue pulled her raincoat from the bag. She put it on, covering her bag and kept walking. People ran down the city sidewalk with their umbrellas in hand, all in a hurry, panting and muttering.
Sue liked the rain. She always noticed the the space in between each droplet. She thought of it like people. The space in between each individual person like there is space between the drops. They are all reaching their destination at different times, in different forms. Sue looked up at a large clock hanging on the side of the brick building. Church was starting soon, so she began pacing herself.
Sue cut through a nearby alleyway to try to get to church quicker. When she turned the corner she came upon a dragonfly fluttering in circles in the rain. This stopped her in her tracks. She thought about the journal her father had made and wondered if this was a sign. The dragonfly had a sincerity to its movement. Its wings fluttered fast but gracefully. Sue imagined what a melody in this creatures head would be like. It would be a calm rhythm accented with a wet melodic sounds. She approached the dragonfly slowly. It didn’t seem to notice her. It continued in its small circular rotation. When she got close enough she held her left hand out. The dragonfly landed softly like a silent and gentle helicopter on her index finger. With her skinny finger extended out, the dragonfly’s wings stopped fluttering and fell to its side. Sue watched the dragonfly with admiration. She lifted her right hand and stroked the back of the dragonfly with her index and middle finger. She wondered why her father had engraved that one dragonfly on her journal. What could any of this mean? It began fluttering away from her finger towards the sidewalk. Sue ran after it.
Sue ran through the rain down the sidewalk. The sidewalk was desolate. It was only her and the dragonfly. Sue kept her eye on the insect. After a few blocks, the dragonfly turned onto the street of the church. Sue saw the little white building with its’ dim lights. Suddenly, the dragonfly turned into an alleyway of an abandoned building.
The dragonfly flew behind a wall and landed on a dumpster. Sue turned the corner and came upon a man on his knees with blood trailing down his chin. There was a vile stench. Sue screamed and propped herself against the brick wall. The mans hands were covered in blood along with his shirt. Another man lay naked on his back covered in blood. Surrounding the two men were orchid flowers. The man on the ground had chunks of flesh missing from his arms and legs. He was obviously dead with the color of his pale complexion and his jaw hanging open. Sue stayed propped up against the wall with her hands over her mouth, panting. The rain was flushing the blood into a nearby drain on the ground. The man on his knees looked up at Sue. He made eye contact with her but continued on delicately eating a little chunk of flesh. Sue asked frightened, What have you done?
The man looked up again but continued on with his ritual. Something kept Sue there, glued against the wall, scared and helpless. She looked at the dragonfly calmly sitting on the dumpster and looked back at the man.
I have done no harm here.
A long silence grew between the two. The man remained on his knees and Sue against the wall. Their eyes locked.
This man now lives inside of me. The man spoke with a very convincing tone.
Sues’ eyes were stuck on the dead man lying on his back. His mouth had became a fountain of water. With his mouth open, the rain filled it up and slowly it drained out.
What have you done?
Sue placed her face in her hands and felt a pain in her stomach.
You see Sue, I’m God.
Sue couldn’t say a word.
Your eyes morph the world into the way you want to see inside. Inside me is a vast landscape. It’s where everything you’ve ever wanted...he paused and rose from his knees...comes true.
Sue’s muscles were frozen along with her stare.
In a frightened tone she asked, Who the hell are you?
God smiled while he paced back in forth around the man on the ground.
Your father writes about you a lot.
Sue’s mouth opened a little. Against the wall she sat in silence. She listened to the soothing sound of the rain hitting the ground. The thought of her father and God all overwhelmed her. She slid her body down the wall, resting on the wet ground. The rain beat down on her. Sue felt more weak and vulnerable than she had ever before.
God picked up an orchid flower and began skimming the dead man lying on the ground with the flower. He started from his feet and moved up his legs to the end of his nose.
Sue watched him. She watched how delicate he was. This could be the truth. The rain grew lighter and the dead man’s mouth became less full. After a long silence between them, in a soft tone she asked, What does he write about me?
Your hair. The way your curling burnt sienna hair rocked with the arms of autumns wind. The smile you gave when he told you a joke. He felt a wind blow through him every time.
This made Sue smile. She hadn’t smiled in a long time. And then a thought rose in her head.
Where did he go?
He told me he couldn’t swim any longer out in those waters. He was sick of work, sick of caring. So he went out to the cliff dressed in his business clothes, tossed his suitcase and jumped out into the waters. He told me it was all so beautiful. The moon was full and the clouds were illuminated but then the storm came. The tides got too big for him to handle and the water ate him. It had been dry that week so I had to send the rain.
She looked up at him and began crying.
Didn’t you know he was out there? You had to of known? You could have done something!
Sue and her father had gone out to that cliff. They would watch the stars glisten in the sky. She’d talk about how they were the crystals that kept the sky beautiful. He’d tell her people like her kept them glowing because her beauty brought light to everything.
Sue, He said as he walked over to her, still holding the flower. He got on his knees and placed his right hand on her back, I had to make a sacrifice. If only you could forgive me.
Sue was helplessly weak; sitting against the wall of the alleyway, she wept. She didn’t know what to make of anything. God began to stroke Sues' left cheek, smearing blood with the stroke of his right hand. Sue cried harder. It was the first time she felt that a cry meant anything. God rose from his knees in front of Sue and stuck out his left hand and the dragonfly landed on his index finger. Sue whimpered lightly. Sue picked up the orchid flower from her lap and smelt it. She looked up at God.
What happens now? What do I do?
God inched his hand into the direction of the sky and the dragonfly fluttered away.
He moved his face into hers. With their noses touching and the blood smeared across her face he said, Now Sue, it’s rather simple.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small mirror. He showed it to her and she saw the reflection of herself.
You start existing again.

Despising Soil: You Were Never the Wind

Inhale that shapeless form of the
air.
It's cold here and the dry
skin of my hands crack.
The wind blows the leaves,
moves all of the trees.
But you never see it. You don't see the wind and it doesn't see you.
It moves across your skin,
moving the tiny hairs of your arm.
It lets you know it is there. It's the effects you see.
A connection so delicate it almost doesn't exist.
You.
You were never the wind.
You were never the
whistling sound of the air
moving through holes of street signs.
That is too subtle.
That is just too kind.

A whisper in my ear from the soothing sounds of the clear sky.
With the stars all lit up in the gap between all of these
evergreen trees and the smoke rising like a slow,
disappearing wave; I understand.
I understand the brightness of the stars.
They want to be seen.
They want to be appreciated for the accent they bring to a desolate night, out in the woods, out where the days are cold and daylight disappears like dirt on your skin.

But you: the dark night with those prehistoric clouds, moving like the soul a shark.
You wouldn't know where to find the words to create a picture for us all.
You couldn't explain the reason of change and unfairness.
The reasons for repetition and greed.
But you condone.
You condone it all and I, yes I have the words to prove it.
A slow spinning carousel in the middle of the woods, rocking and creaking. It rusts and it sings. It sings a song that goes like this, "You, the despising soil, are underneath it all. What you feel is packed together. You were never the soothing sound that nature brings. You are the secret eyes of forest that never do anything."

Here we are, connected to life, but separated and all.
Here I am, breathing, making sense of everything.

All of My Music Here

http://www.mediafire.com/file/yqjunyxduod/The Lowly Ghost.zip

(frequencies) / Human Inconsistancies: A View From the Top

(frequencies)
all of the black birds
sit on telephone wires
absorbing voices

/////////////////////////

We drove down the avenue. I could see the mountain from the car window in the grey skies. It's snow shines and sits upright like a God with perfect posture. Lining down the avenue were big sign's marketing cheap sales, fast food places on each side of the street, trailer park graveyards in fading colors with broken in walls and mildew growing all over, broken down gas stations, used car dealers, abandoned cars in empty lots with weeds taking over, trash in the crease of the street and the sidewalk. No trees were in sight within the first few miles. I saw black birds flocking to the telephone wires because no trees were around in the town. The skies were growing darker, building up rain. 'They send us messages and most of the time we never notice' I thought. The birds, those animals we ignore. They sit on telephone wires, absorbing our fears and conversation. Think about vultures, circling you in a desert. The burnt sand blowing all around, getting caught in the creases of your ear. The vultures feel your fear. They know you are close to dying. They circle and circle until they've become your predator. These birds know something nature. It's instinct. James and I drive and I watch the little townie black birds observe cars as they pass by on light post and telephone wires. They judge our ignorance. We make it out of the town and come upon large acres of grass and small houses. The mountains grow bigger and bigger. We go through winding roads all through tiny cliffs. We make it to the base of the three Godly mountains. Looking up I see snow covering trees. For miles, it inches up, becoming part of the fog. Looking up I only see two colors: grey and white. We drive for miles find where the winding roads end. No trace of a sun or a moon. They were buried in the fog. The world was grey and white. We begin walking through the snow. Tree inch up for miles. Tree branches bending from the weight of the snow. There was a dead silence in the mountains. You couldn't hear the motors muffing on highways. You couldn't hear the construction of buildings and street work. All you could hear was the wind, the frozen rain hitting you jacket and the steadiness of your breathing. When you can't find the sun or the moon, your only direction is your instinct. Like a falcon, we roamed. The desolation of the cold mountains made me realize that it doesn't need me. It doesn't need us. I then saw a spider roaming through the snow. That's what we are. Spiders roaming through the snow. An aimless wonder, without a path driven by instinct. We stayed and watch the fog darken and the snow glisten. The undefiled silence was nature's complexity with disruption. We left with slipping tires on ice. We found a cliff to stop on and tunred off the headlights. The fog moved like an ancient creature and revealed its true pride; the moon. It illuminated the fog and left the snow gleaming. All together, they accent each others beauty. We drove through the mountain and again, we hit the avenue. I saw those orange lights glowing like horrid embers and industrial smoke like the hot breath of a spirit. I think, 'This is living?' This is our inconsistencies. We view vertical buildings as mountains. They are replaced in our eyes. We find that view, up above the city and admire those orange lights glistening, becoming our stars. The world's sky is filled with our smoke so stars can't see us and we can't them. I got a view from the top of everything and saw nothing. There were no stars, no sun, no moon, no buildings. Just the color of my skin. Just the color of my blood. Just the color of my breath. Just the color of my soul in the center of the luminous snow.

Haikus: Finding an Answer

(thread)

each tiny thread in

your skull, you pull out and cut

they sing with the wind.

(scent of...)

god cut the stomach

of a new born, releasing

the scent of cedar.

(forever)

a city of kids

without faces; a city

meant to never age.

(underneath)

under the dead tree

lies a city of water

floating & drowning.

(building breathing)

this building can hear

when you whisper in its ear

gentle & quiet.

(hereafter)

a soul trapped within

the veins of a dying leaf

like a sealed cocoon.

(nature)

this fires anthem:

illuminate all that is

meant to one day morph.

(wet sounds)

rain drops make music

with wet sounds of collision

that form melodies.

The Sea Washed it All Away

I pulled out all of the saddness from a hole in my head.

I buried it in the sand and let all of the waters wash it away.

The salty breath of the sea will remember what I wont.

The sea can wash away anything, anything...

Subtle Thought

I woke up & it was dark. It didn't matter.

My brain was new & my thoughts spun like a carousel; consistently rotating in colors.

Days are growing darker. My brain is illuminating all of the things I didn't see before.

Whether its night or morning, I'm alive and I exist.

Now, Ghost Hands / Instructions to Finding Your Answer in the One Lit Window of the Quiet Home on Stilts in the Saddest Gentle Ocean You've Ever Seen

Now, Ghost Hands

She had see through hands.

I placed my hand over them.

Then they were ghost hands.

//////////////////////////

Instructions to Finding Your Answer in the One Lit Window of the Quiet Home on Stilts in the Saddest Gentle Ocean You've Ever Seen

Climb to the highest point of the rocks at the shore of the saddest yet gentle ocean you've ever seen.

There will be no winds to blow you from the high rocks because it will be safe and windless.

It will be sunrise and the sun will be in livid flames.

With the skyline lit by the heat of the suns temper, you'll spot a quiet house on stilts in the dead rippled water.

It will make you sad when you see that one lonely lit window..

When the sun finds its place to rest in the sky, the light will turn off and you'll be able to hear the creak of the wooden floors in the lonely house from where you stand on the high rocks of the shore.

You'll wait for the sun to go down and the moon to settle in its grey shaded spot out in the darkness.

The one friendless light will turn on under the moonlight.

Then you'll jump in the night ocean and swim to the small house on stilts.

From the dark waters you will see a life size teal fish with thickset black bird wings sitting at the edge of a bed.

It will be weeping with its bird wings fluttering slowly, lifting it a few inches from the bed.

In that second you will have your answer.

You then will swim back to the top of the rocks to see the quiet home on stilts in the saddest gentle ocean you've ever seen.

Then you'll go and make a family.

You'll have a child.

You'll buy a generous boat filled with wooden posts and nails and hammers and saws and large tree trunks and a tarp and your partner and your child.

You will build a home right next to the sad creatures home.

You and your family will settle in.

You will build a rocking chair and sit your child on your lap rocking back and forth and explain to your child who the creature that lives next door really is.

You will tell your child that nature is unfair and cruel and the creature living next door is living proof of that.

Then you will pick between these two conclusions to your internal question:

1.) The uninterrupted waters needs some form of life to interfere with the water's steady tranquil so that nature can set a new course for the wind to blow the birds into a new direction they've never been before so they wont evolve into mixed creatures like the odious teal fish with black wings all due to the gloominess that nature's repetition brings upon them.

or

2.) Nature can never be controlled. The more humans believe that they are controlling it, it's wrath grows powers that can never be stopped because God is nature and nature is God. It's wrath will never be stopped.

About the time you come to one of your conclusion you'll feel two sharp pains in your back underneath both of your shoulders blades.

You will feel your house move a little bit and you will look out of the window and see the water that you used to know as gentle become furious creating white tips at the crease of each wave.

Nature will pick you to follow the new winds over the water that you've interrupted.

As you realize this you will feel yourself inch all little from the wooden floor and your eyes will grow smaller and blacker and then you'll feel yourself inching a little farther away from yourself feather by feather...

New Drums / Orchestra in My Ear

(New Drums)

An orchestra plays in my ear everyday.

I can't hear anything.

I only hear themes written with the careful notes gently played.

They distract, they distract so kindly.

All of my words are trapped in my sleeves, captivated by the heat of my body.

They are right in my reach but I can't find them.

Or trapped inside some distant place...

The Mindset of a Nation

Considerable attraction goes to ones who should wear their lace

and smile seductively without reason on runways. It is the body not the face

to many of men and wearing is more than being anything. Women with the crown

on their head should give men the shivers for they are used to having the branch

of control. A single whip can scare and work up the minds of women with a chill

to the bone. Forever the false creed coated minds of libertine men discriminate endlessly.

The Back Alleyway God

Sue noticed details. She’d write about the details of everything she saw. She’d write about the patterns of the clouds in the sky or the way ants maneuvered through the grass. Everyday on her way to middle school, Sue would stop in the park near her house on her pink and teal bike. She still used her rusty training wheels. They were rusting along with the bike chain. The training wheels were loose enough to fall off but this never seemed to bother Sue.

Some days she would miss school and others she would go. On the days she made it, the teacher would ask her where she’d been. She’d respond, “In the leaves” or “writing in my ‘Journal of Details’.” The school had given up on Sue and her mom. Sue’s mom never had a landline in the apartment. She was always working and not watching over Sue. So the school simply decided to stop trying to get in touch with her and focus on bigger issues. Sue, being eleven years old, wasn’t affected by this at all. Nothing seemed to bother Sue, nothing at all.

It was Autumn now so Sue had been rolling in the massive piles of dead leaves in the park. She’d lay in them with comfort, even if they were wet and soggy. She’d take notes in her ‘Journal of Details.’ She’d watch baby spiders on the leaves move their eight little legs about on the surface of the leaves. She’d wonder how big the world seemed to these baby spider. She’d write about how the spiders would grow up to be artists and weave wonderful designs from tree branch to tree branch. Then she’d try to find a pattern in the brown, yellow and orange leaves and wonder if God planned these patterns out or if it was just her eyes that saw them. No one had ever explained to her who God was, she just knew the name meant the controller of everything. But no one had ever explained the word everything. She just knew it was a word that meant all of the things you knew about and all of the things you’ve ever seen. She always wondered what everything meant to everyone else.

One day before school, Sue woke her mom up. Sue’s mom looked over at her. “What? What the fuck do you want Sue?” Sue stood innocently by her bedside and said, “I just dreamnt...” Her mom yelled, “I don’t have time to listen to another one of your stupid fucking stories. I’m getting rest before work. Got it?” Sue’s mom turned back over in her sheets. Sue shook her head, got her bike and headed for the elevator.

She made her way to the park. She had planned to stay shortly and make it to school on time. They were going to learn about the universe and she didn’t want to miss it. It began to rain hard. It rained like boulders. Sue’s pink bike helmet made great noise with the heavy rain drops. Sue sped up on her bike. She peddled fast, but decided to pass up the park. She realized she didn’t have her book bag which meant she didn’t have her Journal of Details. She approached the sidewalk from a side alleyway she’d take on rainy days. She could see ‘The Umbrella People’ running all over the sidewalk. They all held their umbrellas above their heads in the same position. Sue loved looking out of the seventh story apartment window on a rainy day to see the sidewalks full of umbrellas. It was as if the umbrellas had a mind of their own. She labeled these people as ‘The Umbrella People.‘

Sue stopped with amazement in the alleyway. She came upon the sight of a dragonfly fluttering in circles in the rain. Sue bled colors of joy. She watched as it’s iridescent wings fluttered through the rain. With each movement the dragonfly made, little rain drops reflected upwards like speckles of active lava before an eruption. Sue gently stepped off of her bike. With the rain still pouring, Sue’s brown frizzy hair stuck to both sides of her face. Her pink helmet was strapped around her chin tightly. She wore a jean dress with yellow and green flower patches that inched to her knees. She had never seen a dragonfly in person. She’d seen them in her text books but never like this. The dragonfly had a sincerity to it’s movement. It’s wings fluttered fast but gracefully. Sue imagined what a melody in this creatures head would be like. She approached the butterfly slowly. The dragonfly didn’t seem to notice her. It continued in its small circular rotation. When she got close enough she held her left hand out. The dragonfly landed softly like a silent and gentle helicopter on her index finger. With her skinny finger extended out, the dragonfly’s wings stopped fluttering and fell to its side. Sue watched the dragonfly with admiration. She lifted her right hand and stroked the back of the dragonfly with her index and middle finger. In that moment, in the rain, Sue had never felt more alive. Suddenly, the dragonfly began fluttering towards the sidewalk and Sue ran after it leaving her bike in the rain.

Sue ran in between all of ‘the umbrella people’ on the sidewalk with her pink helmet still on. Everyone avoided Sue who saw her coming and for the ones who didn’t, Sue just pushed her way through them. The dragonfly was making its way through all of the people. It being smaller made it faster than Sue. Sue knew this dragonfly had a mind of its own. It was playing games with Sue or leading her somewhere important.

Sue ran for miles pushing people out of the way on the sidewalks. She switched at least 10 streets and then the dragonfly turned into an alleyway. The dragonfly flew behind a wall and landed on a dumpster. Sue turned the corner and came upon a man on his knees with blood trailing down his chin. There was a treacherous stench but Sue just ignored it. She was in shock by what she was seeing. His hands were covered in blood along with his shirt. Sue suddenly forgot about the dragonfly sitting on the dumpster. Another man laid on his back covered in blood. He was looking up at the rain saying loudly, “Feast upon thee! I want to make my way to the other world.” The man on the ground had chunks of flesh missing from his arms. He bled uncontrollably. The rain quickly flushed it into a nearby drain on the ground. The man on his knees looked up at Sue. He made eye contact with her but continued on eating the man on the ground. “What are you guys doing,” Sue asked anxiously. “Who are you,” he asked with importance. “I’m Sue, ” she said with her small tan arms at her side and her crooked pink bike helmet. “To answer your question, I am sending him away to new and better world,” the man said elegantly. “Where are you sending him,” Sue asked curiously. “To a land where everything comes true.” He responded. Sue asked, “Where is this place?” He stopped eating and said, “Inside of me.” “Who are you,” she quietly asked. “I’m God.” He said with a crooked smile. Sue put her hands on her hips and asked, “What does God do?” He laughed and said, “I keep peoples souls inside of me because inside of me is a very very safe place.” Sue stepped towards the man. She reached her arms out and placed his head on her stomach. The man, at first, didn’t know how to respond. He then understood her affection and leaned his face into her stomach. The man on the ground was now dead. Sue saw that dead man as a good thing. She thought his soul was now at peace inside of this man called God. The blood on the man’s face had smeared all over Sue’s jean dress. The man began to cry uncontrollably. He gripped the back of Sue’s dress and pushed his face harder into her stomach. “It’s okay God. Stop crying,“ Sue said passionately. The man let go of Sue and looked up at her on his knees and asked, “Who are you? Really.” Sue chuckled. “Silly, I’m Sue. Remember?” Sue looked over at the dragonfly still sitting on the dumpster. She put her left hand out and again the dragonfly landed on her index finger. The man stared at Sue with his mouth in the shape of an O. “It was nice meeting you God. I have to get to school now.” Sue skipped down the alleyway with the dragonfly still on her index finger and headed to school.

Sue stopped outside of the school. She stroked the dragonfly one more time and let it go. Sue pushed through the front doors of the middle school. The lady at the front desk jumped from her chair with the sight of Sue. Sue was drenched and covered in blood. She ran out from behind the counter and grabbed Sue by the shoulders and asked her what had happened. Sue looked the lady in the eyes and whispered with a smile, “My dream came true.” The woman asked in a panic. “What was your dream honey? Tell me what your dream was.” Sue looked at her with her red cheeks and said, “I met God in an alleyway. He sure was a nice man.”

Lantern Heart / Anyway, I Can Stay Alive, Be Alive

I'm living with a lantern in my heart. Only from time to time.

(It's dimly lit. An artificial light. That keeps light here. It keeps light here for now)

but what happens when it burns out?

(This one, fear.)

...is all an illusion I keep in my head. This one fear tricks me like this; I believe in the fears around me. The fear that goes like this, "Will I live the right way?"

And my answer.

Roads burn and break. These road are nothing to trust. These exits are our opportunities to leave. Exits keep being built and built. Take an exit, leave on another. Living the right way is no way at all. Our ideas are not mapped out, they are figured out. Existing is all you can do.

I say to you (earth, universe, person, other worlds, extraterrestrials) "Exist. Exist. Whisper to yourself. I'm following the spotlight that leads me to any destination where I can breath."

So I breath slowly. heavily. steadily. anyway, I can stay alive.

So I think sloppily. in disarray. consistently. anyway, I can be alive.

Yearning

Missing you...

Milligrams: The Process of Finding Your Heart

INT. karen in psychiatrists office - mid day

Karen is leaning back in a brown leather chair staring at the ceiling.

KAREN

I feel like my heart is missing. It's only been a day without the medicine and my chest just feels hollow again.

PSYCHIATRIST

You are just thinking to hard about it. You've done this for two years.

KAREN

But this time it feels real...

The psychiatrist just nods his head and doodles on his paper. He is scetching Karen with devil horns and a pitchfork.

PSYCHIATRIST

Here. I'm sure this'll help.

He hands her another prescription slip. Karen rises up in her chair quickly and anxiously.

INT. KAREN At RANDY'S PRESCRIPTIONS CENTER

Karen walks up to the counter and hands the slip to the lady with the name tag Sheryl. Smacking her gum loudly she speaks in a very unpleasant tone.

SHERYL

Would that be it?

Karen nods politely with uneasiness. The woman appears back at the desk with the bottle that says "Milligrams" on it. Karen takes the bottle in her hand delicately. She opens the bottle and takes out a pill. On the pill it says “How to feel again” in tiny black letters. She takes it and shakes it by her ear.

KAREN

Where is the ladies room?

Sheryl points to the back of the store

INT. KAREN IN THE LADIES ROOM

Karen looks at herself in the mirror. She opens the bottle and looks at the pill again. She whispers while reading the pill.

KAREN

How to feel again...

She hears a knock

KAREN

Just a minute.

She slips the bottle in her coat pocket

EXT. KAREN MEETS THE ACTIVIST

In the parking lot Karen spots a female activist marching with a sign in her hand screaming the words of the sign

ACTIVIST

Love is not essential. Love is not pure. Love is the disease that makes us impure.

She stops shouting with the sight of Karen.

ACTIVIST

You taking those meds to make your heart feel stronger?

Karen gives a cold look.

KAREN

Actually, I think I lost my heart a long time ago...

ACTIVIST

Good. That's what you get.

The activist continues to yell and march in circles. Karen walks a little further down the sidewalk and sees a clump of trash, digs around in her coat pocket and throws the bottle in the pile of trash on the ground.

EXT. THE BAND OF GREENERS

Twenty minutes later a group of environmentalist called, “The Band of Greeners” walk down the sidewalk with trash bags to clean up the sidewalks. Kevin, part of the group, finds Karen’s prescription bottle. He picks it up out of the trash. It reads,

kevin

Hm. Milligrams? Karen Rosenbloom. 4203 Pacific Ave SE, Olympia, WA, 98513.

He puts the bottle in his pocket and continues on cleaning.

EXT. KAREN SEES THE MOTHER ON THE BUS STOP BENCH

Karen strolls down the street and sees a lady holding a new born baby on a bus stop bench. Karen stops and sits next to the lady.

KAREN

How many months is she?

the mother

Six months. Just enough to have a heavy heart beat I can hear to reassure me she has a heart.

Karen's eyes grow wide and she looks down at the baby's chest. She sees the heart of the baby beating through her clothes. She feels at her chest and runs down the street to her home.

INT. KAREN IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR

Karen runs through her front door. She runs to the lifesize mirror in her bedroom. She rips open her shirt and there is a small wooden door on her chest with a key hole. She knocks on her chest pointing her ear towards the door. A hollow knock echoes for a minute. The house phone rings but she doesnt answer it. Karens voice recorder begins to play

KAREN

This is Karen. Leave a message at the beep.

KEVIN

Hi. This is Kevin. I am part of the Band of Greeners. I was picking up the sidewalks today and I came across your perscription bottle. I figured it might have fallen out of your pocket. Call me back at (360)876-4691.

Karen stands at the mirror and trys to open the small wooden door. It is sealed shut. She needs a key to open it. A memory sparks in Karens head. She walks out of the front door.

EXT. KAREN WALKING FROM HER HOME - PAST AFTERNOON

She sees the activist with her sign outside Randy's Prescription Center. She takes the sign from her hand and throws her sign on the on the ground.

KAREN

Who the fuck do you think you are! Love makes us impure? We spend our whole life looking for love. That love that will make us feel pure again, like nothing else in this world matters. We all think we know how to live until we find out that we are heartless. We leave our hearts hidden away in some mysterious place that we have to search and find...

Karen looks down at her chest. The activist stands there with her jaw half way open. She picks up her sign from the ground and walks down the sidewalk without a word.

EXT. KAREN UNDER THE BRIDGE - SUNSET

Karen comes to her old hiding place underneath the bridge of fourth street on the abandoned train tracks. A desk hides underneath the bridge. She had put it there two years ago, before she started taking the medicine. She sits at the chair in front of the desk. She opens the top drawer of the desk. She finds a beating heart and a skeleton key. She unbuttons her shirt and feels the door. She grabs the skeleton key and unlocks the door. She grabs the heart and puts it inside the door. A light projects out of Karen's chest. She closes the door and locks it with the skeleton key. She gets up with a smile on her face and pushes the chair into the desk and puts the skeleton key in the top drawer of the desk. She walks in the direction of the sun on the grassy train tracks kicking the overgrown weeds. She mumbles a quote to herself.

KAREN

All we need is the truth within our chest.

A Silent Tour

For some reason the sound didn't work but it goes like this...

"The sepia really adds a dramatic feature to this video. Here is my window. The nice little asians doing their thing and my nice Buddha candle. Here's my desk with my coffee maker and Erica's fish print. I have the picture frames of family and good times. My section of inspiration: Piano and Erica's art work. My mirror actually adds a lot of spunk to the room. That scary pumpkin I carved rather recently. There are random things all over the apartment like empty picture frames on the wall surrounding the light switch. The thing most comforting about the bathroom is the spider man nightlight and the elgant woman on the wall. The people in the living room are James, Claire and Ivan. The lamp light is how my room is usually lit. I hope you enjoyed the tour. Farewell..."

Or it went something like that.

Inhaling/Understanding

Today cracked open a new wave of thought.

I inhaled myself.

I became human.

I became myself.

The Connections in This World

Patients are patient.

The sick are sickly.

Gods are godly.

We are deadly.

In the Arena: A Childlike Haze

We arrive at the doors. This memory is one of a dream; a dream distant and indefinite. Men tower over me with flashlights and paper wristbands in their hands. I remember in a childlike haze, the sight from their forearms to their feet. I was delicate then, I was young then. A heart composed of infinitesimal gemstones.

Master of manipulation, he was. Father talks to the tower men of the entrance. The process is uncertain in my mind, but his efforts are still appreciated. We made it inside, in the arena, music and cigarette smoke swirling like my mother's burnt sienna curls. The arena lights and music start and we sit in those red covered seats. I hear words through a microphone projecting through the hollow body of the building. He cared for my comfort. Declined, we sit listening to the notes composed and melodies spoken, "...be scared of it all, sometime the rain's gonna wash away what I beleive in..."

Show's over and we walk side by side. Father: tower of influence. Son: young learning eyes. My ears had that buzzing sound; the sound of lively hood. The buzzing sound was of notes composed by an orchestra of seashells resting in my ear.

I heard them then. I hear them now. These memories are like seeing through an iridescent wing. I saw through those young learning, daydreaming eyes. That tower of influence vanished. I'm a tower over myself. I say, "Tower, show me how to live. Show me how to breath again..."

Spiral Views

Spinning, spinning worlds.

Views in rotations.

Visions in spirals like twirling smoke rising for miles.

Through & Through: A Window Crack

It's all hazy.

The campfire smoke rises through the opening in the woods.

The smoke, it tangles upwards in spirals and gypsy curls.

I think of my reflection from the street spot and I see my eyes glistening in confusion.

The world spins slowly.

I feel the air between my fingers growing. And it's all hazy. And I'm finding a new place.

...for me to rest.

I think of those old memories. When you were young and thought that there was actually a clear sense of self. You and those action pact eyes, you wanted excitement, joy!

Ocscure eyes.

Hazy eyes, wake up. It's morning. The sun wants you up. Shine through me like the window cracks. I need to be blinded by some kind of sense.

The Blinding Light

INT. MYSTERIOUS MAN WAKES ON THE BUSY SIDEWALK - AFTERNOON

A mysterious man is face first on the sidewalk of a city. Tall buildings are all around with no trees or grass, only sidewalks, roads, street signs and stop lights. The man is wearing layers upon layers of mismatched clothes all torn up with some parts showing his dirt stained skin. He has a mysterious hole in the back of his head that is projecting light. The cars in the roads have all stopped to see this mysterious man. People on the sidewalk are quietly watching the man lay face first. Every business man is dressed in a black business suit with a white under shirt and red tie with a brown suit case and black shoes. All of the women are dressed in red business thigh cut dresses and red high heels. One man kneels over the man. He looks into the hole in the back of the man’s head. A business lady walks up behind the man as if she is waiting in line. The business lady taps the business man on the back and anxiously asks him a question.

BUSINESS LADY

What do you see? 

The business man arises from the hole and looks around at the crowd of people all dressed like him. He drops his suitcase and pushes his way through the crowd without saying a word. A line forms behind the next business lady in line. She removes her heels, tosses them on the ground next the suitcase, and walks away without a word. The streets become cluttered with cars with all of doors open. An endless line grows waiting to see what the meaning of this light is. The line is in a specific order: male than female. A business woman whispers to a business man.

BUSINESS WOMAN # 2

Why do you think he came here?

BUSINESS MAN # 2

 To bless us...

When there is only one person left in line, there is a pile of suitcases inching up a few stories high with paper scattered all over the streets. There are red heels piled up next to the suitcases and the man. The last person in line is another business man. He kneels down with a suit case and inches his eye towards the light from the hole. He feels a sudden tug at his tie.   He looks down to see the man pulling his face towards the business man with his left hand. The man turns himself over with the support of the business man’s tie and mumbles weakly and slowly.

THE MAN

Help me. [Pause] I’m sick. I need help.

The business man is in shock. He has never seen a man so hideous or impure. The business man tries to respond with a reasonable answer but can’t.

BUSINESS MAN # 3

Uhh uhh I uh I uh.

The cave dweller pulls the business mans face closer to his. 

THE MAN

Help me. I need help. [Speaks slowly] There is a light inside of me...

The business man throws the man to the ground and runs down the street.

EXT. THE BUSINESS MAN RUNS DOWN THE CITY STREET FULL OF ABANDONED CARS 

INT. BUSINESS MAN # 3 RUNS INTO HIS OFFICE BUILDING

The business man runs into the office building where  he works and finds that no one is there. All of the desks are empty. He screams for anyone. 

BUSINESS MAN # 3

Hello!

He runs up the stairway to the fifth floor. He runs to the cubical he works in. He sees no one typing at their computers or answering phones. The office is dead silent. The business man yells at the top of his lungs. 

BUSINESS MAN # 3

What the fuck is happening to me!

He picks up the computer at his desk and tosses it through the fifth story office window. He kicks over the large office printer. He knocks over all of the cubicals in the office. He stops and walks to the hole in the window from the computer. Breathing heavily with his hands on his knees he sees mysterious man dragging himself through the street full of abandoned cars. He yells out the window.

BUSINESS MAN # 3 

Hey! I need to see the light! I need to see the fucking light!

He throws a computer keyboard out of the window aiming it at the man but the man keeps dragging himself along.

EXT. THE BUSINESS MAN RUNS DOWN THE STAIR WELL - AFTERNOON

INT. THE ONE MAN RIOT - CLEAR NIGHT

The  business man is in his white unbuttoned dress shirt, his red tie loosened, and no shoes on. He whistles and dances with joy while he is pushing a shopping cart full of molotov cocktails. He whistles and pulls one out of the cart. He pulls out his lighter and is whistling “This Land Is Your Land.” He puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it. He speaks loudly.

BUSINESS MAN # 3

You want the truth?

He pulls the cigarette from his mouth and puts the cherry to the cloth of the molotov cocktail. It catches on fire.

BUSINESS MAN # 3

I fucking hate this place.

He throws the molotov cocktail into the window of a ten story bank. He jumps up and clicks his heels as he watches some of the building burn. He pushes the cart down the street a little further. He lights another one with his cigarette. He throw one into another building window. He looks up at the sky laughs violently and hysterically.

BUSINESS MAN # 3

[Screams] Why am I all alone here?

The business man falls to his knees and pulls at his hair. He begins to cry uncontrollably with his head in between his legs. A small piece falls from the burning building into the shopping cart full of molotov cocktails. With the business man still crying he doesn’t notice. One of the molotov cocktails catches fire along with others. The business man falls backwards with his legs giving out on him and the cart falls over covering him in flames. 

EXT. THE BUSINESS MAN BURNING IN THE STREETS

INT. THE BUSINESSMAN IN THE SHOPPING CART - CLEAR MORNING

The business man wakes to the mysterious man pushing him through the woods the shopping cart. He wakes startled and feels his skin. It feels tender but it does not look burnt. The business man studies the light coming from his head.

THE MAN

I saved you...

Silence rises between them and they come upon an opening in the woods. It’s an open field full of hot air balloons with thousands of people loading them up with their possessions.

THE MAN

I figured you didn’t need to grab anything.

The business man grins and thinks of his business suit and brief case. 

BUSINESS MAN # 3

Who are you?

The man looks towards the sky and climbs into the hot air balloon. The business man jumps out of the shopping cart and hops in the hot air balloon. All of the hot air balloons take off at once.

EXT. THE SKY IS FULL OF HOT AIR BALLOONS HEADING FOR THE CLOUDS 

Drift Wood; Drifting Through Me

Your heart is made of the same components as driftwood.

I am the water asking wind to make me my high tides & ripples. 

You drift through me silently & observantly.

You keep me on the surface. You keep me from drowning inside myself. 

Vibrations / For Distances / From Myself

My fingers push down those keys. 

  Vibrations meant to create the sound of distance.

It's all a false sound. 

This distance is silencing & interrupting.

There is a distance, I feel, from myself. 

I'm searching for these inner places. These places I cannot find...

The Crease of a Smile: The Shadow of Doubt

When the sun falls over head, there are shadows trailing with every form of matter. The silhouette of one carries a shadowy figure--the shape of reflection. "Reflect. Reflect!" Your mind yells. You're scared to study your figure. You're scared of what you'll find.

In the glance of windows, there you are. You look into that tiny hole in your eye leading to the rigid flesh in your skull that holds everything you know.

              The upward gesture your lips make create the crease of a smile. 

The shadow trailing behind you is empty so you study your figure but it's simply empty.

 It's your shadow of doubt. An empty shadow. One only of an outline.

                     You're only aware of your outline, not the fullness of yourself. 

                          You only stay on the edge of things, never making it to the core. 

By the time you find it there, its all burned up.  

                                  

False Shadows / Frozen Deserts / A Melody Composed...

There's a shadow in the doorway but I don't see anyone. I only wish I did.

I wish I could see a familiar shadow, one of my inventor.

(It's only a shadow of a memory. One from when you were a child) says a whisper.

Mère: The movement of her gentle jaw speaks, "You're a glowing gem in a pile of rocks."

With that proud smile, glowing like the sun.

Père: His firm jaw clasped tightly, I can't remember a word he said.

I remember him in bed with his heavy hands sad like a frozen desert.

There is a frozen world underground where angry harps play sad sad songs. A melody composed by heavy hands. (That's where you are. You're the heavy harp player of the frozen desert.)

The storms a comin'. The storms a stirring. The storms a twirling and I'm the eye leading it straight to the sea.

I am R.ealizing

I.nner

P.laces

And as I realize, the winds speaks, "I miss you so..."

Carousel Scene

INT. IN THE WOODS WITH THE CAROUSEL - NIGHT 

Ava comes upon the sight of a carousel in the woods and stops in place. She listens intently to the music projecting from the carousel. A look of worry falls from Ava’s face and she simple looks peaceful. She was on her way to Ame’s grave. She cuts through a path that they used to take in the woods. 

                                                         Ava (Whispers)

                           Mon imitation d’un reves. (My imitation of dreams).

Ava makes her way through the trees to make it to the sight of this carousel. 

                                                NARRATOR

The song projecting through the woods was quite similar to the song that played on the carousel where she first met Ame. She remembers him sitting on the black stallion. He had a stern look to him. He looked forward, uninterrupted. He seemed to have a purpose but she couldn’t think of what it could be. She could only wonder what a man of his age was doing on a carousel.

Ava comes upon the carousel, crookedly spinning with that eerie creek with every rotation but the rotation was in some slow speed, only one that could be of a dream.

SCENE DESCRIPTION 

When Ava sees the carousel it is eerily slow. The music slows down to the tempo of the rotation. The lights on the carousel start to flicker and the man on the black stallion is hunched over with his face looking at his feet and his arms dangle. Ava is unable to see his face. She walks up beside the man and walks at the same pace of the carousel. The man’s body seems sickly. He is dressed similar to Ame but she knows it’s not him. She begins to imitate the first time she saw Ame on that carousel. She stands a little ways from the carousel and watches it spin. 

                                                

                                                  NARRATOR

She imagines those kids jumping on and off horses and chariots, trying to find their place on the carousel as Ame just sat still. This time it was different, there were no people and this man was not Ame, more like a sickly soul.    

SCENE DESCRIPTION 

Ava approaches the carousel and gets on the golden horse, five horses behind the man. The carousel begins to go at normal pace. Kids are jumping on and off the horses. A reenactment of her past memory. The man sitting straight and bold like Ame on that say. She steps off the golden horse and approaches him. She puts her hand gently on his back and whispers in his ear.

                                                       Ava

                                           I’ve missed you... 

The man turns to her quicker than a normal being would jerk their head. There are no details on his face. It is just static. His face just like a pixelated screen. She hears the ear pinching noise of loud static and there are no more kids in sight. She covers her ears and screams, so loud you can hear her vocal chords vibrating. The carousel stops abruptly and she flies to the ground of the carousel. The lights go out and all she sees is the face of static in the darkness of the woods. She sees the man’s body dangling from the black stallion and the noise grows louder. She gets up and runs back home as far as she can get from this haunting image.

                                                NARRATOR

That night, Ava ran through the woods faster than she has ever ran for anything. She saw more constellations than she thought possible. She heard the birds going wild in the trees. With the melody of songbirds she could only think, “Sing me to safety.” 

EXT. SHE COMES UPON AN OPEN FIELD FULL OF HOT AIR BALLOON - NIGHT      

Body: You are a Working Society

Lift a melodic finger / shooting lightning / playing tunes with your string like bones.

A heart as a microphone (shooting sparks from the foamy speakers.)

Microphone heart goes, “Boom/Boom/Forget/Regret.”

The brain hangs behind your temple, dangling on strings/ a string puppet to your eyes.

A creature called stomach / a slim creature/ controls the trash body collects.

                 

                     You

                      are

                       a

                        working

                                society

                    in & out    

Rooftop of Rêveur Montréal (The Rooftop)

Have you been to the rooftop where the men walk backwards and the women have cut out their stomachs because pregnancy is unwanted, where the sky hangs so low you can poke rain clouds, popping them like balloons making all of that water release. It is at the Rêveur Montréal. Walk to the front swinging doors, golden and brown, where a tamed werewolf named Sigmond will be waiting, dressed elegantly in a red and black tuxedo on. He will say, “Hello Monsieur. Welcome to the other world. Take the first right into the ‘Rêveur Montréal’ and you will find your answer.” With the first right you will arrive at the smoking elevator doors. Don’t be intimated though, that smoke is just the dragon’s breath, waiting for you inside the elevator. I have told him you want to see the other world. The doors will open and the dragon will ask to see your new burn initiation for the other world. Show him the burn on your forearm. Ask to go to level 3000. The speed of the elevator might seem a bit gravity defying but just bare with it. When you get to level 3000, walk out of the elevator to your right. Follow the teal carpet until you get to the exit door. Walk through it and you will come to another hallway. It gets smaller and smaller until eventually you are on your knees. You come to a small black hole in the wall so climb through it. On the other side you will find a women wrapped in yellow cloth, sitting at a table with a dim light on above the table. He face will be shadowed and one eye will shine bright. She’ll say, “Welcome to floor three thousand and a half.” Tell her I sent you and show her the burn on your forearm. She’ll say, “Sit I have something for you to drink.” You drink the potion and then you can feel your body form begin to change. Dieu never warned me that I’d become a slug. It is more like a new beginning. It was excruciating pain. No pain I would deal with if I had been warned. After you drink the potion, you’ll be part of the other world. Make your way to the morphing door, changing colors from orange to pink, black to aqua, orange to red. Nudge the door.  Outside you will see animals in people form. There are women who no longer wanted babies so they removed their stomachs, men who’s legs and where there head should be, where people are now spiders. There is a clear dome over this rooftop and rooftop takes up most of the sky but no one knows that because the other world is so high up, no one makes it there. The other world will be a place where you can essentially do anything you want and no one will harm you. Sometime in the future you will soon forget about opinions and worries. All of those things you worried about in the modern world seem to go away. You can rest peacefully on the padded rooftop watching the clouds morph and litter its insides on the modern world.

But this is not what I wanted. I expected a beautiful world. 

The modern world can tear you to shreds making you ungrateful for your body. The other world brings you the curses that you brought upon yourself. You wanted another world so here it is. A world of your biggest fears, hates, dissatisfactions. You say you want something but it is always something else. You expect and want an upgrade. It is always what could be better, never what it is. The only way to make it back to the modern world is to sell your soul on the ‘Marché de L'âme’ where souls are sold and used on the market of death. The better use you make of your soul, the more your value goes up. The worse you make of yourself, he value of your soul goes down. Like Berkeley said from the modern world "To be is to be perceived." The other world is just your so called Enfer. So rethink the steps of your wishes. The world’s most beautiful people are now monsters on this rooftop because of their second chance in the modern world. Their souls failed on the ‘Marché de L'âme’ and ended up back here living on the 3000th floor. This is solitude. The punishment of the things you were never grateful for.