prose

Unrequited Friendship

I am sorry if this is the wrong timing but I couldn’t bare it anymore. My feelings had spent too much time harbored under the hard shell I call my pride. So now I must set them free, something I was afraid to do. But now I let go of that fear and begin to express my true emotions to you.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Need I explain more?

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The Gray Area - Where Zarathustra's Twins Merge

Excerpt from The Doctrines of Hypocrisy

work in progress by David Arthur Walters





We were glad for our freedom when we first heard the tidings about the difference between good and evil and about our power to choose between them.



"Hear ye all who come to inquire about the truth. We praise the wise one and we thank him for providing us a with a good mind in accord with the divine law firmly written in the heavens. Now listen to this truth and meditate upon it, that each man must decide for himself what he believes and choose accordingly. In the beginning two spirits, the best and the worst in thought, words, and deeds, proclaimed themselves. From these two, those of good knowledge chose aright, and those of evil knowledge did not. The two spirits created life and death and being and nothingness when they first came together. Certainly those who cloth themselves in the divine light of truth shall have the best life, and those who do not shall have the worst."

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Ponderings 5

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Prose

I am alone here in the corner with a couple of shadows, a knife and a final meal. A band around my arm is one of the few things to attract me. The knife on the floor sits shut with a dull blade. The slop they gave me appears to be moving. The shadows are closing in on me and taunting me. It's too loud and I can't think straight. I shout, " Please!"

It all stops.

Glancing over at the locked door I see the window open. A voice calls, "Tray." I throw the damn thing at the door, but it didn't exactly go through the hole. I laugh. The window shuts. Privacy.

A shadow comes to talk with me as I stare upon him.

He walks away.

So what! I have my band, my arm and my knife! Opening the knife I get a little bored. Which one? Closing my eyes... I take a stab.

I laugh.

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Ponderings 4

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Prose

The petunia blew off like my mind in space. The horizon peaked until it split the moon. Fire colored my sunset, and broke the bird's neck. Which bird? The one that slit my wrists with a swoop. Ah yes it really wasn't a bird. A human? Yes. How in the hell do you betray a killer? Humanity in big proportions like love, emotion and catharsis. But it was my friend who stole the meaning of life.

Pyromaniac... just like his father.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I have no freakin' clue what I was thinking when I wrote this.

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Ponderings 3

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Prose

I was breathing in the muggy air... the night seemed to fade a little bit more. This afternoon I dreamt of a man, a man who sold lives. I walked up to the man and asked if he had a normal life to sell me. He looked and found two lives that were fairly normal. The first one was a new born baby boy that preferred not to be a boy. The second was a balding accountant in his late 30s, but before I chose... the dream suddenly ended. I awoke to discover I was living in reality.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written in a time where I didn't know if I would live past 18.

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Ponderings 2

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Prose

Being fully optimistic is somewhat pointless. The world is dying, and so are we. It sounds like a few of us are giving up, but there is not much else to do.

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Ponderings 1

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Prose

That night was a Saturday night. One of those dead nights when your neighbor is doing her laundry, and you're drinking tea watching SNL.

A night covered with reality. Yes... out the window people and speed machines; the ambient liht from an all-night coffee shop shines upon the street. Yeah... maybe I'm wearing a green beret, but to each her own right? It was then that I noticed the guy watching us. Which guy? the one behind you in the shadows with the yellow eyes.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The "Ponderings" set is just a bunch of spewing from the brain.

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SAVED BY PASTRY

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Love is Pain

A friend of mine told me that I should get out more, try to be

involved more, try to enjoy life more, and try to use the door

for more than hermetically sealing myself inside.  Never tried.



I told her that I seal the door because it seems that it only

takes a light wind for trouble to come barging in and since

love never seems to visit, I'd like to lock it tighter if it

was all the same to her.



In my bed I was sleeping on a pile of mismatched socks as a

pillow and I said that the only reason I get up to go to the

bathroom was because I'm afraid of a catheter.  That answer

only seemed to amuse her before she paused to suffuse me with another refreshing anecdote. I dispatched of it most quickly.



She said I sounded desperate and looked like hell.  I told her

to hand me the half-eaten half-gallon of Blue Bell Ice Cream

on the floor by her feet.  It should have melted down enough

to eat by now.  I put down the spoon after my first mouthful

to pick up the TV remote control.  My favorite show was about

to embark on another scintillating episode.



My attention span it seems has dipped below that of a 7 yr old

with A.D.D.  She said something about my apartment being my jail so I remarked that "freedom is subjective to the perception of the individual."  I remained somewhat catatonic, speaking without changing my focus from the 16 inches of glowing education. This only proved her remark as my prison had diminished in size to fit my brain's case exponentially.



I told her that as long as she stayed, she was imprisoned with

me.  The wads of paper from miscellaneous cupcakes, yoo-hoos,

and ho-ho's comprised my sheets (both fitted and top) so when

I propped myself up on a stack of basketball magazines and

horoscope books I can still eat my pecans and pralines with-

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Awakening (Prose)

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Prose

For the greater part of my life, my family migrated from city to city, forever portraying the role of the unwanted band of Gypsies, the ones who always searched for that place to belong. We were always on the move, always out of touch with life and nature.
Days and years would pass. Memories of cities and events would intertwine and mingle until they were almost inseparable; just one long remembrance. Yet there is one recollection that remains ever vigilant to my reminiscence.I have always been one that preferred to be aloof and emotionless. I have never been comfortable with emotions and more often than not, I avoided them. In honesty, I never allowed myself to experience true emotion. I would reap the proverbial seed before it could be sown, allowing myself only the ghost of an impression of what would have been. Yet there would be one event in my life that would change all of this.
During my junior year of high school, I had acquired two very close friends. They were dear to me because they accepted me for what I was, or in another instance, for what I wasn't. We would often discuss making a trip to visit one of their Grandparents that lived in a small regressive town in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. And hiking in the mountains was our ulterior motive. But our chance to make our sojourn did not arrive until many years later.We finally managed to make our 'pilgrimage' to pay homage to the Great Blues. We set forth and journeyed our separate ways, for it was a time of solitude and recollection. And I shall never forget that day, for on that day, I felt life.
I had wandered, unintentionally, into a small valley that had been formed by the merging of three smaller mountains. Two riveting streams coursed down the walls of the mountains to eventually intertwine and follow along the valley floor. Ancient oaks towered above the lush foliage, stretching their majestic arms to the Heavens. The air was filled with the cry of fauna. Never before had I encountered beauty of such magnitude, and I was caught off guard. It tore my life-long barriers asunder and left me abased, open to all that I had forbidden. I was trapped in a euphoria of emotion. Emotion that did not stop, nor did I really want it to. I was literally trapped in a vision of omniscience.
In the span of that day, I experienced life as emotion. I felt the essence of every tree, every stone, every creature.... everything. And for once, I felt as though I belonged. I felt a part of the creative forces that flowed around me, but most of all, I felt. I experienced emotion that I never knew existed. I had become one with Gaia and existed in free form. For on that day of my solitude, I experienced things that most will never know exist. For on that day, I stood as the Great Mother. I had learned the greater love of all things, I cared.
Until that day, my life had been forlorn and hopeless. In the past I existed indifferently, never knowing nor caring about my own existence. I played life as a pawn, always waiting for a higher intelligence to make my next move. Always waiting for my purpose to be announced. Always in apathy.
But one single vision left me open and vulnerable. A new consciousness had been revealed unto me. I learned to live with my emotions instead of forbidding the, opening new awarenesses and new ideas. Yes, I was alive, and I had changed.
Yet change is held in balance, for Justice carries a double-edged blade. I had experienced rapture in such a way that where as before I harbored no emotion, now my emotions reign free. I now know the joy and awe of a raven's flight, but I also know the sorrow of love never expressed. My emotions are uncontained and I have yet to gain control of them. I am often forced, under dire duress, to suppress them, therefore leaving the impression of being cold and callous, when the inverse is true.
And once again Justice swings Her sword, for my eyes are now the mirror of the self and hold all truth, causing me to avert my gaze lest my deepest feelings become known, when my deepest desire is to be unknown.
Nevertheless, there is many a day that the longings of the whispering winds caress my body, and my spirit, and return my thoughts to my silent reveries of that day; arousing a hunger to be free to express all that I feel and endure. Leaving me to ponder over the past, the present, and the future. Leaving me to ponder those subtle winds that are ever calling, ever leading me on. Leaving me to ponder change.

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