Best Dream Ever

I use "he" because this person is genderless. This is the dream that I was talking about in the previous post. It was incredible. The peacefulness and joy were overwhelming. Yes, it is cheesey. Yes, it is revealing. No, I do not approve of suicide in any form. No, I don't really care. The absolute acceptance was breathtaking. It is difficult, sometimes, to understand that when we die, it won't really matter to the vast majority of the world. only a few out of millions will even realize that you are gone, or that you ever even existed. There was an acceptance of this in the peace and jooy that this person found in his death. I love those moments in life where nothing matters. Pain, joy, family, None of it matters. Those are moments worth living for. Whenn I understand for an instant that I am nothing, everything is alright for a moment. Anyway... here is my beautiful-yet-poorly-written dream.

The End

He sat perched like a cat on the porch railing with his back against the post. No, she thought, not like a cat, more like a tiger. Cats were too cute, but tigers were lithe, silent, and beautiful. It was too strange that this person was sick. Soon, very soon he would be confined to a bed, weak and helpless as a kitten. Somehow, she knew it would not come to that. And the sunset was so beautiful, the pinks and deep purples melding like the verses of a lullaby before melting into a glorious red crescendo. It was hard to worry or even feel pain in the face of such a wonderful end to the day. Peaceful, she decided, looking at everyone's faces. Everyone she loved was gathered around and their faces were peaceful. An uncle pulled out a guitar and a niece pulled out some sort of whistle and everyone instinctively pulled closer together as an impromptu melody quietly filled the air. As the sunset faded slowly away, many said goodnight. He hugged each as they exited. Eventually she and he and their father were all that remained. They talked quietly and intimately for an hour before father sighed and hugged us both tightly. We stood like that for several minutes, then slowly released Victor and went inside, still leaning on one another. I was sad, but I didn't know why then. I think that deep down I knew I was mourning more than the end of the perfect day.

He watched them leave and spared them each a silent tear of farewell, though the deep ache faded quickly until all he felt was peace. Walking down to the fields at an unhurried pace, he gazed at the mountains and stars and wondered how old they were. The stars were doubtless thousands of years old. What would that feel like? He smiled. Surely ants asked the same of humans. "How does it feel to be decades old? I am sure I would not like it." they would say. When he reached the field, he stood and watched the breeze dancing with the trees until the person on the other side of the meadow turned to look at him. Then he understood. Silently they drew their blades. Bowing to one another, they made clear their respect for the other. Smiling slightly they took one step toward one another, then another until they were running. As their blades shattered the silence into a thousand pieces, their hearts were unified and they truly understood the other. The faint smiles grew to their usual grins, though not as reckless as was typical. Again and again they clashed, neither seriously injured though some blood was drawn. The dance continued far past a realistic time period. No words were required for the fierce joy that filled them as their blades shuddered and swung. The breeze picked up until their fierce dance was joined by thousands of dead leaves swirling and leaping. Deep into the night, the moon lit their field and the mountains and stars watched the wisdom and foolishness of these humans. Laughter died first as the end drew near. The dance slowed deliberately until a final fierce clash forced them back. Words finally emerged as they regarded one another. "we have succeeded." He said as the burden finally lifted. "Of course," his partner nodded, "there was no other way." He smiled again. "I have enjoyed it." "But I will not miss it." "Only them." He glanced one final time at the house on the hill, then turned back to his partner. The run was as silent and short as the first one, but instead of a resounding clash, the silence was broken by slightly surprised gasps. Then gently they pulled their swords from the other's chest, staggered backwards, and fell. He gazed up at the stars as his lifesblood pooled around him. He gazed at their numerous twinkling eyes until his vision blurred. Then as he felt himself pulled into relentless, blackest arms, he closed his eyes and thought. It was beautiful.

They found him there the next morning. First she and father came sliding down the hill as the sky once more grew grey and other colors began peeking out from the tips of the mountains. When they saw him from the other end of the meadow, the secret fear was suddenly realized in both of their hearts. Carefully, softly they crept up to look down at him. Tears began to pool in her eyes, but when she saw him smiling gently the tears somehow became unnecessary. They sat with him for a little while, but the longer she sat, the more she understood that this was right and necessary. She would miss him, but she would see him again. And it would hurt more to see him helpless in a bed than to have simply gone on another journey. She even managed a sort of smile as she whispered "I love you." in his ear. Eventually the others who knew him best came wandering down the hill. None of them cried more than a few a tears, for they already knew. father picked him up and gently carried him up the hill as the young morning became the fully-fledged summer day the sun had promised. The others wrapped arms around shoulders for support because the worst was to come. This was his real funeral and the birds played the best music ever heard and the sun draped a golden cloth over his bloodstained shirt. When they reached the house, the peaceful magic fragile as a held breath was again shattered by others wailing and fussing and saying I'm sorry to those who were not. Those who understood pitied those who had not seen him lying in the field smiling. They held the moment like a precious bubble of hope in their hearts for the rest of their lives. For he was gone but the world was still good and he had known it, and been glad.

why is summer white

Why do songs about death make it easier to hang on to life? It gives me peace, not fear; so, why does listening to death songs make me think, "I can do this. Life isn't so hard."? The best dream I have ever had was a death dream. I die in a lot of my dreams, but the focus of this dream was death. It was incredible. I know I sound a bit creepy, but the feeling truly had very little to do with the content, I think. I will give it its own post after I finish writing this. Wathlae s nwe. I wrote a poem several days ago that is better than most of them. Still not very good, but I like it because I wrote it and I can remember my emotions while writing it.
Amazed, I watch an angel
Soar beneath the full, round moon
Carefree

White feathers shone, purely
Light, reflecting wholly
Iridescent

Silently she sang of
Peace beneath and above us
Ethereal

Earthbound caught I never
Realized until she flew
Flightless

Air and peaceful salt-
Water mingle in her hair
Flowing

Wordless (unnecessary)
She laughs, a sound like rain
Pealing (bells)

Pausing before a swooping
Dive, her garments purest sea-foam
Rippling

Constantly inconstant fay
Welcome unchanging sister
Eternal

Together our gazes are
Drawn inexorably up
Higher

The limitless barrier
Of deep blue with tiny keyholes
Vast

Pure, cerulean, cool, deep,
Light, washing, shifting, contrast
Surrounded

The hunter’s aim is true from
Where he hides in crooked brush
Faultless

Her unnatural broken
body stays only a moment
Wispy

Floating limply down from the
Air, she lands as white feathers
Crimson-streaked

I turn away as the man
Takes my angel, his goose, home
Dead

June 1, 2010

I did not realize my angel was a goose until the end. there are several mistakes in punctuation that I acknowledge but am too lazy to fix. (bells) should probably not be there, but am still undecided on which word to use. Why do I get depressed in the summer? Most people get depressed in the winter, and I love the warmth of summer, the green things, the blue sky. I will go talk to dad now. Today is white.
Surrounded by suffocating white
Burning into my retinas
The silence is audible
Pressing in all around
Blurring my vision
Bleaching my sight
Cut off and
Alone
Help