[In My Mind]

It is finally completed. Although unstructured and possibly quite confusing, considering that so many things are left to interpretation... but whatever. This is what was up in my head a few months ago, and I finally typed it up. It was six pages written...so yeah. Please read the whole thing, even if you get confused. Then sit and think about certain lines. The beginning can be confusing, though I like it. Around the middle some things clear up, and then later lose "focus" (not the best word to use)... Anyways, the whole theme should be summed up in the ending, which I am very fond of. Enough blabber... on with the epic...


A Song To Say Goodbye To I: The Call to Come and Die

May this pure air be with their souls and guide them safely into the Garden of Eden. The past is a ghost that haunts us from the moment it exists to the moment we do not. Guiding through compositions neither conceived for alexithymin or conversational implicature, the recumbent minds of those who think they could be God avoid the planchette in order to escape the deviation that the indiciums refuse to indite or realize the base step or becoming forgotten archetypes. Swirling around, like confidence ceased to be found, is a brilliant shade of grey limited by our nature’s own side. White tips on the ends purify what can only be described as a recollection that hasn’t quite been purified to shine, by discretion, with emery. There is a melancholy air about us now. So still and idle, this forgotten ideality has been stricken with zeality, and torn over green terraces are the scorns of false angels, so intricately disguised with tainted feeling. Solicitly falling, you haven’t heard most of the important words. Their spirits are surely heading home, seen last wandering through the streets an hour before dawn. The only question to ask before fading memories: Once you’re there, why would you want to come back? Up where the pearl and gold are worth less than trash and floating continents need no chain or restraint, the flora and fauna perform a majestic rise while down here the visible mourn and cry. We live in two different worlds. Striving to preserve perfection in it’s current state and ignoring how light shines out of time, the proscenium pillar begins to collapse just as his jugular vein snaps and beautiful days compel windows to open so slight breeze can cure the oldest fold Once the rays reflected turn around and come to fill the mildewed and cluttered room, the last crown appears. Church bells do not forget to sing their final call, and the vibrations whisper oh so relevantly the timeless graves of morality which allow slain ears to fear the call to come and die. Time changes hearts and causes blades of grass to sway in our favorite field; their opinions most certainly sway with them in turn.. Forget our concerns. We’ve become illicitly reformed and our own minds will soon contort. Once we’ve found the true mindset of the soul, then life can break away from hold and the systems united could overpower worlds not yet understood. I can’t wait to truly reinstate myself into eternal reach. Wake up, dear, wake up just so much just to listen to your heart. If there’s truth in existence then I’ll let the fallacy of dawn be known. How could these people, so young yet breathless, not see radiations so fresh to their eyes? Picking up confinements, every second allows the uninformed encagement to engage in successfully limiting the unstressed boundries or words not yet fortified in pure existence. They only linger because of business unfinished. Reaching for agony’s next gaze, faces are flushed white against the lack of breath to the breathing. Are these apparitions headed for hell or heaven? Phantomizing to replace absence of peace for the last time, no flesh is felt upon them. Journeying through rooftops and appearing to the keenest eyes, volumes of transparency tint with red seethings to make sure the others grow to the right direction. Uncovered eyes newly find light just as remorses die and lead into pen and paper stained in tea or coffee. Stepping outside for the first time ever, your own pause has found great meaning in encouraging the masquerades that remembered to forget the aura about thee. Unto thine self be true, but not only for you. The one who misses you is the one missed by the searching eye who searches no longer. Taking chances while they lie in open air requires getting to them first then taking them out to reconcile interrogation of true character after the false was syphed. I’ll always be here for you, that is, until circumstance decides otherwise. So it would prevent demise to choose me now. The surface –Lambs- are coming; prepare yourselves. Between harmony and dissonance, the fear of war won’t bring innocence. A soft blanket of snow, a soft death awaits. Each so sharp and apathetic; no two have ever been the same. 4-0 5-0 the furor’s caught fever. Eliminate the ones with a cause; we can’t afford to be meddled with again. Tonight no requiescat will be sent. The dead will compose their own requiem on the way. With no interpose or intrusion at hand, laced between the heart and ground are recalcitrant promises forgotten, receding back into the spotted light plain. Would the status quo of angels and demons fantasize your dreams tonight? This purposeful winterkill… Telegraphy not biding by lines exist in time irreversible to dispianoge. Disparity upsets balance forced into assassins displeased. Forget them all, forget recoil, this is the cause harmonized with accepted consequence. The conspectus shows lack of momentum as the houses, houses are burning without daylight. Given to us, ethereal star, even bound by action we have come so far. Entering Point Bethlehem, the garden’s never been so close before. Intuition tells me, so informed, that the Days of Collapse prophesized will ring true through the Solaris Wars. My lies would be so lanceolate if not for real words fascinating crowds. Evil I speak not. Each conversation I take part in only seems pejorative when reflected on. This is life, this is existence in photography. If stood back to see it all, one would realize that being the only objection out of blindness disturbs the careful harmony so fathomly woven about. No matter how the feelings are expressed, it’s what is done that matters. Today could be the day of refinement or the day of atonement. The watching eyes decide in covenant as the raven knows the light of yesterday. The end and demise of an era unforgotten starts today or tomorrow, because all of the procrastination has brought up a better legend to be retold until plotlines fail. The deciding factor between apathy and laziness must be the idea of not wanting to act or not caring. Count the shards of glass as they fly to your face. The final grain of sand in the hourglass is not accounted for. This colony now is mine; there have been to many gems passed unrefined. Oh, my deity, so fragile and frail am I. This is our alblum, our story, retold in thousands of legends and books never published. Taking up the issues forgotten like corner restaurant service, this is too risky for the taker and too large for the big picture. Revolutions come easy, but this is more than revolution or revolt. This is the trigger to being and end war, to change vision as we know it. Never backing down, but always doing without. It’s too early for the sun to come down, but at least I’m finding the rush that life’s all about. Goodbye beautiful. When you come to, you’ll find me lying on the floor, gun in hand. This is the last attempt I find. My last meal, dined alone, didn’t feed out the knowledge I was craving for. This life versus me; this is surely not the calmest war. Life moves too quickly to accomplish anything, and too slowly for our liking. Death came just as we were satisfied. Our perception’s fault is realized. The call never rang through my ears, even through the emancipation years. Ignorance and blindness against the wisdom that should never find us here. It’s about time to come out of hiding because I’m tired of us confiding in our doubts, our favorite route. Inspired, fascinated tears fun off faces watching far off objects from familiar tiers. When saddened eyes don’t match their cries, you know they need a friend but are too afraid of them taking the gesture out into the deep end. This one is ours to keep. Culturized puns don’t exactly sweep the earth. Dry wit and wrong fronts, our time has been long overdone. Their bodies will not preserve, but this is no concern. These are merits and awards that I never earned. Living lies that thought they were long dead. Sensed in their eyes are hints of thoughts they never said. Resorting to measures unheard of before; I assuredly mean war. Today I will find dismay where joys are present but unseen by senses nulled by constant wear. Weary eyes are blurred as testosterone starts to flow. Do you feel the essence of my words today? I don’t know if it’s safe to say what I’ve always wanted to, since the fourth grade. I’ll let you have your way once my August runs from his May. This is tomorrow’s dream that the archaeologist dug today. Dinosaur bones rot no more, fossilized and forever engaged in what they were and not what they wanted to be. The same extinction seems to engulf me, at least until the forgotten seed decides to grow up. Frustrations dry the blood from her eyes. It’s like reverse Freudian psychology, only such a travesty: something concurred as impossible floods our subconscious every night. It wasn’t for us to decide. Building up waterways are thoughts we share and can’t hold back from substantial rise in insolence and priority. Opening eyes of nations who just go back to sleep and forget it all by morning. Spotlight to the eye; doctor what ails them that doesn’t already ail me also? If I’ve overcome it, dear, then I surely fear that it’s stuck with the old hosts. This epic crime, so bleak yet so divine, can be left in sublime, as its meaning becomes so redefined. Brachiosaurus herds slowly go extinct, just like me, just like me. Suspended in animation was us, living where wealth was measured by other means. I can see why death walks alone tonight; I would too. To the finest details, no loophole is found. You don’t have to watch me fall. You don’t have to watch me fall. This is my destruction and resent. There is no other way to express this solemn covenant. Like them, I’d roam the streets alone, if only to understand more why the empathetic don’t show their care anymore. This asphalt is breeching and darkness floods in, and the patterns I were staring fall from sight the moment they begin to make sense. Turning over and over inside my mind, in my newly absorbed catalyst mindset, is a concept already shaded red. If this will ever work out, then islands will make their moves to sink at my hands. As the waltz of lexicon shadows over projected dreams, phantoms and apparitions inform me how to kill the scene. This is the story of a town in which people have tried to make sense of things. On the pinnacle of the holy mountain, on the place where the past never died, never was the city of peace a peaceful place. In segments the truth is found but never taken to heart. It came so profoundly toward the forgotten start of the race that was not run, even though someone presented the idea to the committee. When life is broken we will escape the flood that will ensue. Please leave me here, but not alive. You keep the benefit of our robbery. Kill me, kill me first, before you leave, or else they’ll get me. Once a critic, now a skeptic, are we really advancing or getting less and less close each generation? This one’s for you. My only reasons still intact are the ones we forged and you signed away. This one is to the shrieking cries that still ring in the exhortation room. This is not my dearest resurrection, rather the fight for peace. It’s so ironic how the only people left here are the ones who died. Looking back, it doesn’t seem so bleak. After the second chance that I did not ask for, I decided to fix the rough edge. Time capsules will hold the little details as museums uncover less important exhibits. But he was there, waiting for me to appear. It was after dark and the moon hid behind the clouds. Hiding behind my true fears, the vision became so clear, and realized were the faults and falls. Standing and staring for a few moments that seemed to last for years, and with the greatest exit on my mind, we became what he had always hoped would turn out. Coming, coming dear, but give me awhile to satisfy inquiries held back for so long. But here, but now, face to face, are the deathly pale and the dead. But here we stand, as communication this communication becomes so much more than words. The anticipation in his transparent eyes makes me feel the need to strive for something to say. If only translucency could be found in his mind. I need to see him through to receive information I am dying to ask for, but fear always gets in the way; it’s been like this every time. Perhaps this is what killed him also. It’s so ironic how the past repeats. Considering the mystery unsolved, I still noticed the calm glance given to the dimming lamp post. The streetlight found it’s way somewhere else, and it evidently shown no more. Left to discrepancy’s call, the aura about our location no longer conflicted with that about us. The mouth that was not visible began to move and vibrations filled the icy air. No carbon dioxide exhaled, and so the only breath to be seen was the excessive amount being sent out from my shriveled lungs. Seething away were the false pretenses easily understood between two. Absorbing brand new knowledge from a world beyond my mind, take-one take-two please get this right. As cryptic death becomes glorious through his eyes, I learned that after death you would loathe returning back to where they didn’t understand pain by choice. I was given new voice in matters previously unattainable by science and by man. The meaning of life I am compelled not to share brings a sad sight into subconscious eyes and those trapped out of God’s mind. The eyes of God watch from not so far away and the recollection dissipates through barriers so impossible to break. This is for the best, believe me now. Just because I’ll start it does not mean I am the culprit. Why are motives lost in the law’s view of wrong and right? This is no blight. Forget about it all: this is where promises surely fall. Goodbye, goodnight. I’ll see you in the never. Don’t say much more. This you cannot know, this you do not know. Soldering and welding together visions of the truth with falsehoods…what has this place become? No longer searching from the heart, you’ll find yourselves striving just to exist. Open up your eyes for once so that fallacy can exit through the doors without hinges that you’ve left unlocked in your sense of reason. Just before the beautiful appearance took his leave, in him was found true existence not held by resistance or limits to the mind. This will never get through, I’m sorry that I tried to save the wish left by the innocent soul before the casket sealed its fate. What happened to those times? This climax has nothing following, and everything beforehand. It doesn’t matter that this does not have meaning to you. This is for them anyway. I am changing a world that does not want to be changed. Let the consummation of uncontrollable spirit choose what stands corrected. This will win no matter how it ends. Let your minds collapse. Measuring constant tendencies with a faint breeze in the air, I’ve found what I did not wish to come to me. This is what will answer your prayers and your pleas although to most of the public, it will be executed so indecently. The water has begun to tremble just as when the new dawn strikes his eyes. His hands do also. Not afraid to be real now, this one comes from moments experienced but never found. Only from the top is it visible, but I am the only one above the surface, past the broken barrier, past brainwave carriers. Existence in waves, one day will be contacted and reform will bang. Prepare yourself for the indifferent because the shock it will jolt upon the hardened hearts will most likely destroy what is left. This is my plan, executed through sand. They’ll never notice the little guy, parasecting the parasite. Ingenious: war begins. The first building collapses with your mind tomorrow at noon when you will find time to communicate with those whom you’ve excommunicated in order to resalvate the complicated interim that came when the master said he wouldn’t come. Hah hah, this is the end of the world so smile because the front row seat is oh so worth the while. Why can’t we be stifled to reconcile this act? Geographic arrangements will me made. A floating continent will host the worst day and age. The power is there. The statues will not stay in order, and balance of flow will be lost forever. Peaceful ties to be severed. Too bad it is worst for the slew of population to be reviewed. I will bring him down on the battlefield I choose to create. I need to appreciate the combination of circumstance and opportunity. Oh wait, I am waking from the dream. This may never be redeemed. What is real and what is not? These are the answers often sought. Science doesn’t tell us anything. So many have bought lies and man-made creations when they have reservations for more. This is bang for the buck without that last part. It can be so fascinating how we knew these feelings before. And as it is tumbling about in thought, the replacement becomes so void of the one vaccine needed to gain up courage or confidence. Mistaken for what we will never find, this emptiness keeps the best ones out of reach to the world. The public shall not ever know. Now the contemplation of decision lurks even beneath the subconscious. Perhaps there are two of you locked in the body of one? That explains your lack of recollection. As the cerebellum fulfills it’s promise, and so well the task is done, if I may add, your purpose still lacks the action sought after. The cortex seems lost in the vortex, the black hole, where all bad experiences go: filtered out to the other personality that has no outward appearances that differ from the one you think you are. There is more. I thought it would do you best to be informed before time chooses to elapse any further on its own. Beyond them are the truths behind the mind, infinitely beyond our kind. Time will never pass there- where the people and angels find it hard to reason with dreadful eyes that never pass through the leak where the forgotten tidal wave affected so many homes. Shining, but not quite as bright as the sun, are the fluorescent words that carry the dust formed by shedding skin that never experienced the night of the full moon or became the emotion so unfamiliar with. The tugging at heart strings do not forget the exact frequencies that the vibrations traveled in. The sounds would have been piercing if only they could be heard past the static we found absurd. Preserving a life that certainly deserved to die. Why is it so backwards and yet so vital to not feel guilty over the things we never did? This is life. Growing up… I will see one day. Eventually sense will be made. Behold the light that spreads before your eyes. It used to be true will of the human race- a symbol of civilization. But what can be gleamed from the light we see today? The people occupying this world have cast away their will to create, drowning themselves in an endless cycle of consumption… What you see now is the deceitful light cast by their stagnant eyes. You acquaintances in this lifetime are not people at all. Mere sacks of flesh and bone- they are less than human. Only upon the realization of self-will can a person truly be called a man. You chose to reject the false light. You would not succumb to their lies. That is why you never faltered… Man used to be forced out of his homeland because of the masses who extinguished the very light that drove their will. So how about it? I will rekindle the torch so that human consciousness may once again be resurrected. For our sake, and that of our God… Nothing will stop me until I stop this.



Let me know how it is, please. It is my longest work, although probably not my best. Probably not even close.

Love, Jared

[nbfan]

phew, that was a lot of reading! it was great, though.

[Nate]

p a r a g r a p h s

even streams of consciousness/thought have occasional lulls

y'know?

[relient nelson]

Originally Posted by In My Mind

It is finally completed. Although unstructured and possibly quite confusing, considering that so many things are left to interpretation... but whatever. This is what was up in my head a few months ago, and I finally typed it up. It was six pages written...so yeah. Please read the whole thing, even if you get confused. Then sit and think about certain lines. The beginning can be confusing, though I like it. Around the middle some things clear up, and then later lose "focus" (not the best word to use)... Anyways, the whole theme should be summed up in the ending, which I am very fond of. Enough blabber... on with the epic...


A Song To Say Goodbye To I: The Call to Come and Die

May this pure air be with their souls and guide them safely into the Garden of Eden. The past is a ghost that haunts us from the moment it exists to the moment we do not. Guiding through compositions neither conceived for alexithymin or conversational implicature, the recumbent minds of those who think they could be God avoid the planchette in order to escape the deviation that the indiciums refuse to indite or realize the base step or becoming forgotten archetypes. Swirling around, like confidence ceased to be found, is a brilliant shade of grey limited by our nature’s own side. White tips on the ends purify what can only be described as a recollection that hasn’t quite been purified to shine, by discretion, with emery. There is a melancholy air about us now. So still and idle, this forgotten ideality has been stricken with zeality, and torn over green terraces are the scorns of false angels, so intricately disguised with tainted feeling. Solicitly falling, you haven’t heard most of the important words. Their spirits are surely heading home, seen last wandering through the streets an hour before dawn. The only question to ask before fading memories: Once you’re there, why would you want to come back? Up where the pearl and gold are worth less than trash and floating continents need no chain or restraint, the flora and fauna perform a majestic rise while down here the visible mourn and cry. We live in two different worlds. Striving to preserve perfection in it’s current state and ignoring how light shines out of time, the proscenium pillar begins to collapse just as his jugular vein snaps and beautiful days compel windows to open so slight breeze can cure the oldest fold Once the rays reflected turn around and come to fill the mildewed and cluttered room, the last crown appears. Church bells do not forget to sing their final call, and the vibrations whisper oh so relevantly the timeless graves of morality which allow slain ears to fear the call to come and die. Time changes hearts and causes blades of grass to sway in our favorite field; their opinions most certainly sway with them in turn.. Forget our concerns. We’ve become illicitly reformed and our own minds will soon contort. Once we’ve found the true mindset of the soul, then life can break away from hold and the systems united could overpower worlds not yet understood. I can’t wait to truly reinstate myself into eternal reach. Wake up, dear, wake up just so much just to listen to your heart. If there’s truth in existence then I’ll let the fallacy of dawn be known. How could these people, so young yet breathless, not see radiations so fresh to their eyes? Picking up confinements, every second allows the uninformed encagement to engage in successfully limiting the unstressed boundries or words not yet fortified in pure existence. They only linger because of business unfinished. Reaching for agony’s next gaze, faces are flushed white against the lack of breath to the breathing. Are these apparitions headed for hell or heaven? Phantomizing to replace absence of peace for the last time, no flesh is felt upon them. Journeying through rooftops and appearing to the keenest eyes, volumes of transparency tint with red seethings to make sure the others grow to the right direction. Uncovered eyes newly find light just as remorses die and lead into pen and paper stained in tea or coffee. Stepping outside for the first time ever, your own pause has found great meaning in encouraging the masquerades that remembered to forget the aura about thee. Unto thine self be true, but not only for you. The one who misses you is the one missed by the searching eye who searches no longer. Taking chances while they lie in open air requires getting to them first then taking them out to reconcile interrogation of true character after the false was syphed. I’ll always be here for you, that is, until circumstance decides otherwise. So it would prevent demise to choose me now. The surface –Lambs- are coming; prepare yourselves. Between harmony and dissonance, the fear of war won’t bring innocence. A soft blanket of snow, a soft death awaits. Each so sharp and apathetic; no two have ever been the same. 4-0 5-0 the furor’s caught fever. Eliminate the ones with a cause; we can’t afford to be meddled with again. Tonight no requiescat will be sent. The dead will compose their own requiem on the way. With no interpose or intrusion at hand, laced between the heart and ground are recalcitrant promises forgotten, receding back into the spotted light plain. Would the status quo of angels and demons fantasize your dreams tonight? This purposeful winterkill… Telegraphy not biding by lines exist in time irreversible to dispianoge. Disparity upsets balance forced into assassins displeased. Forget them all, forget recoil, this is the cause harmonized with accepted consequence. The conspectus shows lack of momentum as the houses, houses are burning without daylight. Given to us, ethereal star, even bound by action we have come so far. Entering Point Bethlehem, the garden’s never been so close before. Intuition tells me, so informed, that the Days of Collapse prophesized will ring true through the Solaris Wars. My lies would be so lanceolate if not for real words fascinating crowds. Evil I speak not. Each conversation I take part in only seems pejorative when reflected on. This is life, this is existence in photography. If stood back to see it all, one would realize that being the only objection out of blindness disturbs the careful harmony so fathomly woven about. No matter how the feelings are expressed, it’s what is done that matters. Today could be the day of refinement or the day of atonement. The watching eyes decide in covenant as the raven knows the light of yesterday. The end and demise of an era unforgotten starts today or tomorrow, because all of the procrastination has brought up a better legend to be retold until plotlines fail. The deciding factor between apathy and laziness must be the idea of not wanting to act or not caring. Count the shards of glass as they fly to your face. The final grain of sand in the hourglass is not accounted for. This colony now is mine; there have been to many gems passed unrefined. Oh, my deity, so fragile and frail am I. This is our alblum, our story, retold in thousands of legends and books never published. Taking up the issues forgotten like corner restaurant service, this is too risky for the taker and too large for the big picture. Revolutions come easy, but this is more than revolution or revolt. This is the trigger to being and end war, to change vision as we know it. Never backing down, but always doing without. It’s too early for the sun to come down, but at least I’m finding the rush that life’s all about. Goodbye beautiful. When you come to, you’ll find me lying on the floor, gun in hand. This is the last attempt I find. My last meal, dined alone, didn’t feed out the knowledge I was craving for. This life versus me; this is surely not the calmest war. Life moves too quickly to accomplish anything, and too slowly for our liking. Death came just as we were satisfied. Our perception’s fault is realized. The call never rang through my ears, even through the emancipation years. Ignorance and blindness against the wisdom that should never find us here. It’s about time to come out of hiding because I’m tired of us confiding in our doubts, our favorite route. Inspired, fascinated tears fun off faces watching far off objects from familiar tiers. When saddened eyes don’t match their cries, you know they need a friend but are too afraid of them taking the gesture out into the deep end. This one is ours to keep. Culturized puns don’t exactly sweep the earth. Dry wit and wrong fronts, our time has been long overdone. Their bodies will not preserve, but this is no concern. These are merits and awards that I never earned. Living lies that thought they were long dead. Sensed in their eyes are hints of thoughts they never said. Resorting to measures unheard of before; I assuredly mean war. Today I will find dismay where joys are present but unseen by senses nulled by constant wear. Weary eyes are blurred as testosterone starts to flow. Do you feel the essence of my words today? I don’t know if it’s safe to say what I’ve always wanted to, since the fourth grade. I’ll let you have your way once my August runs from his May. This is tomorrow’s dream that the archaeologist dug today. Dinosaur bones rot no more, fossilized and forever engaged in what they were and not what they wanted to be. The same extinction seems to engulf me, at least until the forgotten seed decides to grow up. Frustrations dry the blood from her eyes. It’s like reverse Freudian psychology, only such a travesty: something concurred as impossible floods our subconscious every night. It wasn’t for us to decide. Building up waterways are thoughts we share and can’t hold back from substantial rise in insolence and priority. Opening eyes of nations who just go back to sleep and forget it all by morning. Spotlight to the eye; doctor what ails them that doesn’t already ail me also? If I’ve overcome it, dear, then I surely fear that it’s stuck with the old hosts. This epic crime, so bleak yet so divine, can be left in sublime, as its meaning becomes so redefined. Brachiosaurus herds slowly go extinct, just like me, just like me. Suspended in animation was us, living where wealth was measured by other means. I can see why death walks alone tonight; I would too. To the finest details, no loophole is found. You don’t have to watch me fall. You don’t have to watch me fall. This is my destruction and resent. There is no other way to express this solemn covenant. Like them, I’d roam the streets alone, if only to understand more why the empathetic don’t show their care anymore. This asphalt is breeching and darkness floods in, and the patterns I were staring fall from sight the moment they begin to make sense. Turning over and over inside my mind, in my newly absorbed catalyst mindset, is a concept already shaded red. If this will ever work out, then islands will make their moves to sink at my hands. As the waltz of lexicon shadows over projected dreams, phantoms and apparitions inform me how to kill the scene. This is the story of a town in which people have tried to make sense of things. On the pinnacle of the holy mountain, on the place where the past never died, never was the city of peace a peaceful place. In segments the truth is found but never taken to heart. It came so profoundly toward the forgotten start of the race that was not run, even though someone presented the idea to the committee. When life is broken we will escape the flood that will ensue. Please leave me here, but not alive. You keep the benefit of our robbery. Kill me, kill me first, before you leave, or else they’ll get me. Once a critic, now a skeptic, are we really advancing or getting less and less close each generation? This one’s for you. My only reasons still intact are the ones we forged and you signed away. This one is to the shrieking cries that still ring in the exhortation room. This is not my dearest resurrection, rather the fight for peace. It’s so ironic how the only people left here are the ones who died. Looking back, it doesn’t seem so bleak. After the second chance that I did not ask for, I decided to fix the rough edge. Time capsules will hold the little details as museums uncover less important exhibits. But he was there, waiting for me to appear. It was after dark and the moon hid behind the clouds. Hiding behind my true fears, the vision became so clear, and realized were the faults and falls. Standing and staring for a few moments that seemed to last for years, and with the greatest exit on my mind, we became what he had always hoped would turn out. Coming, coming dear, but give me awhile to satisfy inquiries held back for so long. But here, but now, face to face, are the deathly pale and the dead. But here we stand, as communication this communication becomes so much more than words. The anticipation in his transparent eyes makes me feel the need to strive for something to say. If only translucency could be found in his mind. I need to see him through to receive information I am dying to ask for, but fear always gets in the way; it’s been like this every time. Perhaps this is what killed him also. It’s so ironic how the past repeats. Considering the mystery unsolved, I still noticed the calm glance given to the dimming lamp post. The streetlight found it’s way somewhere else, and it evidently shown no more. Left to discrepancy’s call, the aura about our location no longer conflicted with that about us. The mouth that was not visible began to move and vibrations filled the icy air. No carbon dioxide exhaled, and so the only breath to be seen was the excessive amount being sent out from my shriveled lungs. Seething away were the false pretenses easily understood between two. Absorbing brand new knowledge from a world beyond my mind, take-one take-two please get this right. As cryptic death becomes glorious through his eyes, I learned that after death you would loathe returning back to where they didn’t understand pain by choice. I was given new voice in matters previously unattainable by science and by man. The meaning of life I am compelled not to share brings a sad sight into subconscious eyes and those trapped out of God’s mind. The eyes of God watch from not so far away and the recollection dissipates through barriers so impossible to break. This is for the best, believe me now. Just because I’ll start it does not mean I am the culprit. Why are motives lost in the law’s view of wrong and right? This is no blight. Forget about it all: this is where promises surely fall. Goodbye, goodnight. I’ll see you in the never. Don’t say much more. This you cannot know, this you do not know. Soldering and welding together visions of the truth with falsehoods…what has this place become? No longer searching from the heart, you’ll find yourselves striving just to exist. Open up your eyes for once so that fallacy can exit through the doors without hinges that you’ve left unlocked in your sense of reason. Just before the beautiful appearance took his leave, in him was found true existence not held by resistance or limits to the mind. This will never get through, I’m sorry that I tried to save the wish left by the innocent soul before the casket sealed its fate. What happened to those times? This climax has nothing following, and everything beforehand. It doesn’t matter that this does not have meaning to you. This is for them anyway. I am changing a world that does not want to be changed. Let the consummation of uncontrollable spirit choose what stands corrected. This will win no matter how it ends. Let your minds collapse. Measuring constant tendencies with a faint breeze in the air, I’ve found what I did not wish to come to me. This is what will answer your prayers and your pleas although to most of the public, it will be executed so indecently. The water has begun to tremble just as when the new dawn strikes his eyes. His hands do also. Not afraid to be real now, this one comes from moments experienced but never found. Only from the top is it visible, but I am the only one above the surface, past the broken barrier, past brainwave carriers. Existence in waves, one day will be contacted and reform will bang. Prepare yourself for the indifferent because the shock it will jolt upon the hardened hearts will most likely destroy what is left. This is my plan, executed through sand. They’ll never notice the little guy, parasecting the parasite. Ingenious: war begins. The first building collapses with your mind tomorrow at noon when you will find time to communicate with those whom you’ve excommunicated in order to resalvate the complicated interim that came when the master said he wouldn’t come. Hah hah, this is the end of the world so smile because the front row seat is oh so worth the while. Why can’t we be stifled to reconcile this act? Geographic arrangements will me made. A floating continent will host the worst day and age. The power is there. The statues will not stay in order, and balance of flow will be lost forever. Peaceful ties to be severed. Too bad it is worst for the slew of population to be reviewed. I will bring him down on the battlefield I choose to create. I need to appreciate the combination of circumstance and opportunity. Oh wait, I am waking from the dream. This may never be redeemed. What is real and what is not? These are the answers often sought. Science doesn’t tell us anything. So many have bought lies and man-made creations when they have reservations for more. This is bang for the buck without that last part. It can be so fascinating how we knew these feelings before. And as it is tumbling about in thought, the replacement becomes so void of the one vaccine needed to gain up courage or confidence. Mistaken for what we will never find, this emptiness keeps the best ones out of reach to the world. The public shall not ever know. Now the contemplation of decision lurks even beneath the subconscious. Perhaps there are two of you locked in the body of one? That explains your lack of recollection. As the cerebellum fulfills it’s promise, and so well the task is done, if I may add, your purpose still lacks the action sought after. The cortex seems lost in the vortex, the black hole, where all bad experiences go: filtered out to the other personality that has no outward appearances that differ from the one you think you are. There is more. I thought it would do you best to be informed before time chooses to elapse any further on its own. Beyond them are the truths behind the mind, infinitely beyond our kind. Time will never pass there- where the people and angels find it hard to reason with dreadful eyes that never pass through the leak where the forgotten tidal wave affected so many homes. Shining, but not quite as bright as the sun, are the fluorescent words that carry the dust formed by shedding skin that never experienced the night of the full moon or became the emotion so unfamiliar with. The tugging at heart strings do not forget the exact frequencies that the vibrations traveled in. The sounds would have been piercing if only they could be heard past the static we found absurd. Preserving a life that certainly deserved to die. Why is it so backwards and yet so vital to not feel guilty over the things we never did? This is life. Growing up… I will see one day. Eventually sense will be made. Behold the light that spreads before your eyes. It used to be true will of the human race- a symbol of civilization. But what can be gleamed from the light we see today? The people occupying this world have cast away their will to create, drowning themselves in an endless cycle of consumption… What you see now is the deceitful light cast by their stagnant eyes. You acquaintances in this lifetime are not people at all. Mere sacks of flesh and bone- they are less than human. Only upon the realization of self-will can a person truly be called a man. You chose to reject the false light. You would not succumb to their lies. That is why you never faltered… Man used to be forced out of his homeland because of the masses who extinguished the very light that drove their will. So how about it? I will rekindle the torch so that human consciousness may once again be resurrected. For our sake, and that of our God… Nothing will stop me until I stop this.



Let me know how it is, please. It is my longest work, although probably not my best. Probably not even close.

Love, Jared

WOW!!! It's like reading the dictionary! Only it makes less sense!!