Strangely Familiar Friend

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third libra
The Reaper
Posts: 149
Joined: Sat Feb 15, 2003 12:01 am
Location: Columbia, South Carolina

Strangely Familiar Friend

Post by third libra » Mon Jul 18, 2011 9:26 am

Wearyingly my eyelids awaken to a blurry reality dreary amongst the shadows of a lightless room. The lines of detail of the scattered objects remain skewed and empty of feeling. The shutoff T.V., the glass table from which lie the glass chess set, even the unturned and worn-out acoustic guitar all lay lifeless. My mind attempted to adjust from the shoes of the universe it just previously walked in. Even as the memory of my night’s dream increasingly fades, the still-framed images of smiling happy folk remain stained upon my mind’s eye. So does the image of my beautiful and shy nightly dream girl. As well I even remember the taste of my bacon, egg, and cheese bagel. It was surely a sandwich from which dreams are made of. All of these are just mirages of my aching want.
Is it sad that I longed to stay submerged within the air of my dreams? Every day I drown underneath the hours of my actual life.
By now, my vision has cleared and my perceptiveness has increased. I glance at the clock only to shiver at the realization that it isn’t even noon yet. The last thing I want to do right now is to get up. Still, slowly I sit up and rub the sleep out of my eyes. As I do this, I attempt to list off the reasons I may have to get up. Unfortunately my reasons lack in quantity. Despite this regretful truth, I stand up off the couch, but only for the sole reasons of smoking a cigarette and finding some food. You’ve just got to love the basic needs of life. I can’t help but smirk at the sarcasm and irony of life.
After grabbing my Newports from underneath the couch, and putting on my cap, I make my way to opening the front door. Oh how I wish I would have thought to bring my shades. As I opened the door, the light of day pierced through the smog of haze around my senses. Surprised, I take a quick step backward into the shade. After a millisecond of adjusting, I figure that I’m better prepared now to venture into the daylight. Even though my eyes continued to acclimate, they strained to take in this volume of shade, texture, and specifics of this outside world. The sunlight magnified the perfect flaws of every leaf, tree, spider web, bird, and sound of life.
Still so small, I could almost feel the rhythm to life. But it was just so faint, almost as if it were only subconscious. Nevertheless, it was a refreshing opposition to the bleakness and somber inside of the apartment. Even though I still felt drunk from my reoccurring night of beer and sleep deprivation, my world seemed to clear and come into focus. I could feel the sunlit day tugging at the ropes of my sobriety. I light up my cigarette, thinking maybe it could assist the aesthetic feel of the day.
I spent much of the afternoon propped over the railing of my apartment’s balcony. I soaked in the rejuvenating rays of the sun, chain-smoking one cigarette at a time. It seemed as though the longer I gazed upon the natural events of life outside, the more one single thought seemed to become more apparent…
As the milky cigarette smoke danced from my lips and into the air, the problems of my life seemed to lessen more and more. My usual feelings of urgent anxiety haven’t yet shown his face. This is all new to me, especially since he greets me every morning. I could definitely get used to this old, foreign acquaintance of an emotion.
It was more obvious now to me how beautiful life could be. There could be a chance that I could live a life sparred from the track marks of depression, loss, apathy or melancholy. I don’t have to feel paralyzed from the heartache of life. Not only in my dreams could I be happy and content with living.
As my cigarette was shrinking to its last drags, I could feel a pinching at the back of my right eye. I knew that it was the headache of my inevitable hangover. This led me to wonder how long this revelation of happiness could possibly last. Already I could feel the suspicious and nervous groping of doubt in the back of my mind. It was as if there was a criminal peering over the white picket fence.
It’s only a matter of time before my normally pessimistic mentality returns. But for now I’ll just enjoy this fleeting friend of mine.
“No one ultimately knows what they’re saying anyway. Are we really making art? Art doesn’t belong to us. It doesn’t belong to people, it belongs to the universe. It comes FROM the universe. It comes THROUGH us. When I write something, I think I know what I’m saying, but I never pretend to know the full meaning of the words.”

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Ruler of Saturn
Posts: 3475
Joined: Fri Jun 07, 2002 12:01 am
Tag line: Poet Laureate Nov 2011

Re: Strangely Familiar Friend

Post by LadySaturn » Mon Jul 18, 2011 11:02 am

:hugs: It's nice to see you write something.. Been a long time, too long.. I love it by the way... Alot of imagery, it really captures the reader. :thumbsup:

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Seafoam Poet
Posts: 204
Joined: Tue Oct 21, 2003 3:13 pm
Location: Wherever you find me

Re: Strangely Familiar Friend

Post by mAImaS » Fri Sep 02, 2011 9:31 am

I don't know how to put it in words, so.... :bow:
My Youtube Channel - Go ahead, call me crazy.

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