Yonder Lies It

Get used it, it’s life. Nothing else can be done. In all its drudge and monotony, it’s life, so get over it. People really actually don’t see this but there you have it, in all its splendors and wonders in every sunset and every nightfall, you couldn’t ask for more. Yet people dream on, they want adventures. ”Ah you’re just jealous mate!” Nonsense, What is it that big city dwellers yearn after the most? A little respite. What is it that attracts them the most? Trees and solitude. Ironically, the small town folk yearn after the very same thing city people abhor. Yes, I could be tinging my words with a little rue, but in all its raw aspect, there is a layer of truth you cannot deny me. However, I must confess that it is that very same routine that causes the most excitement. routine gives the unexpected a level of emotional high that one does find surprising and agreeable. Although, there are far more routine days in any given lifetime than there are eventful ones. ”Hilarious!” ”I object!” You’ve been watching too much L.A Law, I see. Get up and start picking up the dirty dishes, and I’ll start vacuuming, then maybe, just maybe, we can go out for an ice cream. ”Ice cream, You scream, We all scream” Ah shut up already! You’re making me laugh. Hurry up, I don’t wanna spend more time than I have to cleaning up this mess….

The resemblance was unique, it couldn’t of been otherwise. The beauty surpassed everything I have seen. It was what the greeks call kheir and our atom scientists chiral two of the same, in essence, and this was chirality. I took one good look and I was dead certain this was the One. In my life I’ have been waiting for this unconsciously, here it is, at last! It came as transperant as daylight, I saw with my soul’s eye her illuminating aura; although some rather wait for rainbows to see what’s in the light. What is it about a person outer looks that allow for inner, closer introspection? It’s right there, and no matter what this encounter is, its always marked by the rapture that the presence manages to perform on another soul. In the mythology of the ancient budhas it is said that reincarnation brings back the soul in several life cycles. My former lover perhaps? The attraction is inescapable, I am drawn to this human being. What is curious about this event is how not my blood burns but something yet deeper than that, it tingles beneath all forms of carnal sensory to the point of some sort of minor spiritual attraction with all the sensuality attached to it. I observe, become observed, we recognize our souls and at once we know who we are, we don’t introduce ourselves, we talk as if our conversation had been merely cut off yesterday or an hour ago. I see through and at once I am at ease. The sun sets down, the shops close, and the last customer leaves and time goes by, we remain, star spangled in the circle of life.

He liked hiding behind it.

It gave him a comfort of sorts, an insurance in the event something backfired. Every now and then he would lurch from behind it and peek through its crevices. You’d have to be really astute to pick it up or really fond of him to understand his curios ways. I know he really didn’t meant it at all but there it was, said and done. However, this time it was directed towards another person, I nearly gave a grin away. I looked on while the other person picked on it, buying the whole argument. ”I hate you”. You know he never really meant such things, cause he wasn’t capable of it. Unable to feel those things, he resorted to words and a little theatrics. He just pulled enough weight to pull it off for the real thing. I looked on, but I knew that more and more those very drama episodes were wasting his energies. Now a days it costed him more and more to pretend, fake anger that wasn’t there. So I loved the crevices he now and then gave to placate the argument, ”well, you know, you could to a degree have a point there …” Had it been I, I would have jumped and allow for a comprimise, yet the argument went on well into the night. I dozed off. By the next morning, there were there, hugging each other. I stared while the morning sun slipped a few rays through the living room window, I wondered who had given in first.

The wavy hair flung loose on her shoulders and the smile adorned her looks
I looked and saw her resplandencent glitter come out of her eyes
the persona raptured me with her self
I felt good all over

It was one of those decisions that would later, almost surely, nagg him all night and he took it.

He had made many decisions before but this one struck a deep chord. He just couldn’t figure it out. Why in all the world this peculiar yet simple act could have so many repercussions. He went home to await the dreaded guilt overcome his senses. He stood there almost impatient. The look in his eyes betraying his state of mind. It came at 12:45, just before the news came on, and then he regretted it and felt better afterwards. It was a nightly ritual that had now come to dominate his afternoons. He nearly got an inkling that maybe, just possibly, this issue was way getting out of proportions. The guilt used to last longer he thought. Other people have more serious problems than my little burden; that he even gave a rational twist to his issue was a new development to the eccentric behaviour that he came to perform every tuesday. He didn’t give it a second thought. No guilt, no problems.

He liked hiding behind it. It gave him a comfort of sorts, an insurance in the event something backfired. Every now and then he would lurch from behind it and peek through its crevices. You’d have to be really astute to pick it up or really fond of him to understand his curios ways. I know he really didn’t meant it at all but there it was, said and done, however this time directed towards another person, I nearly gave a grin away. I looked on while the other person picked on it, buying the whole argument. ”I hate you”. You know he never really ment such things, cause he wasn’t capable of it, unable to feel those things he resorted to words and a little theatrics he just pulled enough weight to pull it off for the real thing. I looked on, but I knew that more and more those very drama episodes were wasting his energies, now a days it costed him more and more to pretend, fake anger that wasn’t there. So I loved the crevices he now and then gave to placate the argument, ”well, you know, you could to a degree have a point there …” Had it been I, I would have jumped and allow for a compromise, yet the argument went on well into the night, I dozed off. By the next morning, there were there, hugging each other, I stared while the morning sun slipped a few rays through the living room window, I wondered who had given in first….

It was one of those decisions that would later, almost surely, nagg him all night and he took it. He had made many decisions before but this one struck a deep chord, he just couldn’t figure it out yet why in all the world this peculiar yet simple act could have so many repercussions later. He went home to await the dreaded guilt overcome his senses, he stood there almost impatient, the look in his eyes betraying his state of mind. It came at 12:45, just before the news came on, and then he regretted it and felt better afterwards. It was a nightly ritual that had now come to dominate his afternoons, he nearly got an inkling that maybe, just possibly, this issue was way getting out of proportions. The guilt used to last longer he thought. Other people have more serious problems than my little burden; that he even gave a rational twist to his issue was a new development to the eccentric behavior that he came to perform every tuesday. He didn’t give it a second thought. No guilt, no problems.

The day after. It was horrible. He coulnd’t sleep. He tossed and tossed and tossed, the blankets had been itching him all fucking night. T’was his fault anyways, he stolen that freaking blanket from his last day at the army, way back when he did any motion at all. Now he sits there, in front of the TV and looks on seemingly forever. She devasted him. What was it about women? He wondered outloud, cause he really hadn’t either a social life at all either and his apartment was a stinking mess, a pigsty, hey, he was a guy, waddaya expect? He had been unemployed, surviving on welfare for the past 7 months. His previous employer fired him. He just couldn’t concentrate anymore, his thought on that woman that broke his heart, he became fixated, obsessed with her lucious body. She dumped him. Love dried out and he, he only wanted sex, sex, sex. Little wonder, he thought, they stopped going out and more and more the only reason he only wanted to see her was to make love. Love for him, sex for her. He hasn’t recuperated ever since. So he sits there, watching TV, doing the occassional errand to the store to get more beer, more food, and sundrys of that sort. I really don’t recall how we met, it must of have been there, at George’s Sundrys. All I remember of that day was his hedious appearence, unshaven and being a hot day you couldn’t reallt miss the axel’s nauseating stench, I remarked offended that I didn’r see any deoderant on his list. That’s when he caught my eye, I saw in his eyes the look of the brotherhood.

Only once it stood there
a japanese wooden artifact
T’was I who saw it the most
staring at it endlessly I cried

laughter and tears of joy rolled
I stared at it on and on
sliding through its curves one by one
I relished the emotional ride

I pondered the relation
the space between me and the artifact
entering my sight
taking over my mind

A delectatious arrest
It overcame me with its beauty
I equated beauty with hapinness
No one else seeing it more than I

I loved it

It was horrible. He couldn’t sleep. He tossed and tossed and tossed, the blankets had been itching him all fucking night. T’was his fault anyways, he stolen that freaking blanket from his last day at the army, way back when he did any motion at all. Now he sits there, in front of the TV and looks on seemingly forever.

She devastated him.

What was it about women? He wondered out loud, ’cause he really hadn’t either a social life at all either and his apartment was a stinking mess, a pigsty. Hey, he was a guy, waddaya expect? He had been unemployed, surviving on welfare for the past 7 months. His previous employer fired him. He just couldn’t concentrate anymore, his thought on that woman that broke his heart. He became fixated, obsessed with her lucious body. She dumped him. Love dried out and he, he only wanted sex, sex, sex. Little wonder, he thought, they stopped going out and more and more the only reason he only wanted to see her was to make love. Love for him, sex for her. He hasn’t recuperated ever since. So he sits there, watching TV, doing the occasional errand to the store to get more beer, more food, and sundrys of that sort. I really don’t recall how we met. It must of have been there, at George’s Sundrys. All I remember of that day was his hedious appearance, unshaven and being a hot day you couldn’t really miss the armpit nauseating stench. I remarked offended that I didn’t see any deodorant on his list.

That’s when he caught my eye, I saw in his eyes the look of the brotherhood.