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There was this man once. A great and pure man, but a man nevertheless. And as any man, he was stricken by the horror of emotions. It was a man in turmoil. It was a shattered man. Shattered by promises of a new dawn, a dawn that was nothing but a damned flickering light. Plenty, were the times he was betrayed by his fellow men. Plenty, were the times he deluded himself. Until at last he was set free. Set free by the grace of the heavens. Set free by the DEATH of his tormentors. Set free by his elevation.
This man is but a figment of the future, and the past, and where he has walked, so must I follow. Those are the rules of the universe. That is the very essence of the derivative of life.
Lost Dreams II
Lost Dreams part II: Freedom
He ran as fast he could, across the frozen pavements, through the white forests and over the icy hills. He ran as lightly as the birds in the sky and as freely as the wind. A chilling breeze swept across the lands. Finally! The burden had been lifted off his back and he was free at last. He ran for perhaps twenty minutes before he stopped to catch his breath. The wind felt cold on his face and his body began to hurt, but such petty things would not get in his way. He sat down on the frozen grass and took several deep breaths. He inhaled the very essence of freedom and was finally content with life.
Something, however, decided to disturb this wonderful state of mind. A monotonous vibrating sound emerged from his pocket. He knew what it was, or rather, who it was. He knew what purpose she had. As he picked up his phone from his pocket, it stopped ringing. The screen showed: 7 Missed Calls and all of course showed her name. A name he had grown to loathe and despise beyond comprehension. He knew exactly the way things were. She had, though slightly surprised, been otherwise completely indifferent to his departure and if she would have had it her way, she would have left him out here in the cold. Her conscience, however, forced her to act. She was of course far too lazy and numb to actually bring herself to do anything, other than calling him on his cell phone. She was perfectly content with sitting there, in her warm sofa, dialing his number and ”hoping” to get an answer. Yes, he knew far too well how it would play out. She would tell her friends how she worried and how she cried. She would say that she had stopped eating and sleeping for his sake. He of course knew that she would not cease to do anything. How can a person, who has slept all her life, suddenly wake up? No, she would sleep more than ever. He knew this. Again the phone began its murmuring song, and he shut it off.
The cold became unbearable and he sought refuge in a local coffee shop. His wallet was almost empty; it would barely be enough for one meal, but oh what a meal. He ordered a big feast (at least as big as he could afford) and enjoyed it thoroughly. After he had finished this first meal as a free man, he drifted off in thought. He let his mind visit several different places; both places that existed and places he had created. He visited several memories and dreams. He remembered her, and how different she was from his furious warden back at home. He remembered her soft gentle face, and how fragile she had been. How vulnerable. However, he immediately disregarded these thoughts as he knew that she long gone, something of the past, and that all that had been between them was nothing but a soothing memory.
The hour grew late and he was forced to leave. Once again, he met with the frozen world outside. He knew not for how long he could manage in this condition and began, for the first time, contemplating the hopelessness of his situation. Then he remembered him. His friend. He, who had stood by him through thick and thin. Yes! He could call him and ask to stay there for a while. The cell phone made a little squealing sound as he turned it on, only to find that the bloated beast hadn’t ceased her, oh so stubborn, dialing. He clicked the red button and found the number of his friend. Just as he was about to call, however, he began wondering how this would really play out. He knew him and he knew that calling him was nothing but folly. He was not a friend of harsh times. He was not one to be counted upon, when in need. He was but a friend of the carefree times, and there was no way that he would accept a free man in his home. He smiled cynically, as he realized that in reality, he had had no friends, and he laughed at their stupidity and how they thrive in their cages. No. This was not the way to go about it. Yet, he couldn’t stay out in the cold much longer. He ran, this time without any cause or direction. He let the winds carry him forward, as he was blinded with hatred for this world of cages. People in the area started to point and whisper. He did not mind. He did not see. And then, at last, he fell exhausted to the ground, and before him rose a great building, which had been imprinted in his memory. He lay before her house. She was his last remaining hope.
He let his mind drift off, once more. He thought of that night, when they had kissed for the first time. He had loved her so dearly and with such depth. It had been a warm summer evening that could only have been described as perfect; it was as though everything had played a part to form this blissful memory. Oh how he had loved her! The scenery within his mind altered. It was dark and it was raining. They stood looking at each other. He was crying. It was the night when she had told him that she would leave, never to come back. She had told him that he had meant nothing to her and that she had “too much on her mind, right now”. She had left him standing there, alone.
This had happened two years ago, and during these two years, hope had begun to grow within him, once more. Despite his fear, he forced open the door and stepped into the building complex. He made his way up the cold steps until he reached the door, labeled with her precious surname. He knocked twice on the wooden door. Fear and hope began to merge into one strange emotion. He took two steps back, as if he readied himself to flee, should that be necessary. However, he discarded this strange fear as ridiculous and once again returned to stand immediately in front of the door. This walking back and forth would continue for some time until it was brutally stopped by the clicking of the door knob. He stood before the door, expecting both the best and the worst, as the chaos within him became even worse. The door was opened, and a instead of her wonderful smile, he was met with the frowning face of a man.
The man was tall; probably several inches taller than him. His long dark hair was spread casually over his bare chest. He was only wearing boxers and it seemed that he had been asleep when he had, oh so thoughtlessly, knocked on the door. The man’s face, although drowsy and annoyed, seemed genuinely kind. It was the sort of man you would expect to be helpful and good-hearted. He felt it pointless to resist anymore; he hated the man so intensely. He despised this repulsive hippie standing in the doorway; he was deeply disgusted by his casual appearance and it seemed nothing stood between his fist and the man’s face. And so, even before the man had gotten a chance to ask what purpose he had, knocking on his door in the middle of the night, he crushed his frowning face and ran away. He hurried down the stairs, breathing deeply. He tripped and fell, only to get up and run even faster. He smashed open the door and ran into the woods; those beautifully free woods, which would hide him from his enemy. He sank into a sort of daze as he lay down to rest on the icy ground.
It was still dark when he woke up; however, the world seemed to have fallen into a solemn state of silence. Not even the sound of the wind could reach him. Finally, he succumbed. He understood now how naïve he had been; to wander off like that. Hah! His place was with his warden at home. There he was safe and warm, never having to worry about food or sleep. He started walking back, still ashamed over his brutal defeat. He thought of what he was going to tell her. Various speeches began to form in his mind, speeches, in which he would try to profess a genuine apology. He hoped to be able to conjure tears to give more credibility to his, oh so, humble regret. His thoughts were once again interrupted as he looked up and saw that he stood but inches away from his home. His beautiful, comforting home.
Just before he reached for the handle, thoughts began to swirl in his head. Thoughts of how she would react to this shameful return. At first, she would hug him and cry, and everything would be “great”. Then she would tell him what a “bad boy” he had been and she would never let him out of her sight again. Hah! She would take so much pride in his defeat. It would literally nurture her very soul. Oh how she would hiss the flag of her home, confident in the fact that nothing could resist its temptations. His hand began to move away from the handle. He finally saw why he had left. He finally understood.
He turned his back from his former cell, walking in a slow, peaceful manner. He was completely at ease now. Nothing could stand in his way anymore, for he was a free man. He reached the bridge, about which he had had so many dreams in the past. After a moment of looking across the beautifully darkened river, he jumped. And as he fell, only one thought remained on his mind: Victory.
M.A.O
willow
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-
Memories of the past...hmph....No such thing.
Bring oneself up. Push oneself down.
Hi
in the mean time, listen to Rush-the fountain of Lamneth
adieu
