I lost myself in a dream last night. I dreamt that the earth was just a floating orb outside my window, a cold and distant object to be observed but not to touch. There was no gravity to keep me down, leading me to believe that I resided in space, amongst the stars. My house was an odd ship, furnished by nothing but a small cot and copious vases filled with roses. The rose, a dangerous beauty.
All I did, day in and day out, was hover by the tiny porthole, bobbing on the air, observing the world silently. My infintismal existence, unnoticed by any earthly inhabitants, was lonely and quiet. However, I found that it was everything that I desired. I had no want, nor, indeed, any need to visit that foreign globe. Only, I wished it were much further away from my residence. It was a constant eyesore that I could not bring myself to forget or ignore. A blaring horn which seemed to get louder with every passing instant.
And I felt a sweet sorrow. This odd and ugly planet which I could observe between my sprawled fingers, pressed against the plexiglass seperating me from the unforgiving vacuum of space, was very sad to behold. It was grey and metallic, like a withered soul, starved of light and love. I was just as daunted by the angry world and its denizens as I was grieved by them. I pitied them, but I did not hate them... despite the damage they did to the property value of my tiny abode.
Oh, what hope could there be for such an electronically-fueled people? How could spark plugs and batteries ever replace emotions, empathy, and love? How could it be, also, that none of them realized their peculiar, damaged position? Could their computers, their phones, their gadgets and gizmos, not inform them that something in the system had gone wrong? Surely, there must be some cure.
So I sat and watched the world turn around, but there was something else. My own reflection in the glass. My cheeks, caved and gaunt. My eyes, haunted and dead. My lips, stained red and trapped in a perpetual frown. Had the world done this? Even being so detached from it, so far from my demons, devils, and antagonists... had they still managed to reach me? Was it possible that, in fleeing the world, I had become eternally a part of it? Was I doomed to stare out that window for an eternity, pitying billions of lives that I would never touch? Doomed to observe a problem that I could not fix? Caught in compassionate commiseration, completely consumed by the constant caustic cry of a coldhearted cosmos... contemplating the callous curiosities of these corrupt creatures.
Forever?
How bittersweet an existence. To be at peace myself, but always to know that such a massive callamity lay at my feet? Was it actually possible to feel serenity at all when I was filled with this terrible knowledge? Was I as happy as I thought I was? If not, how could I ever feel joy? How could I ever heal myself if the world's pain was forever shifting onto my shoulders? Was there truly no rest? No escape?
I guess it's true what they say... you can't run from your problems.
ML
As a side note... inspired by the song, Great Big White World.
"Cus it's a great big white world, and we are drained of our colors. We used to love ourselves. We used to love one another...." -- MM
No comments:
Post a Comment