Post by Cat on Nov 5, 2008 22:30:56 GMT -8
A dream is dream; nothing more, nothing less, surely nothing short of extraordinary. Amazement and wonders could come from it, or despair and fear can arise. All in all, it will always remain a dream. But of course one could only wish, of the joys created within it, could be apart of the real world everyone is trapped in. This reality we call life of course has it's up and downs, its good and bad times. But no matter the pain or the beauty, life never ceases but continues to move one forward. Unfortunately life can be tragic, and one can only wish to themselves that they could be trapped in their made reality, that gives them comfort and their sought out protection. But that isn't how the law of life works. No, one can be trapped in this cruel world only to realize that it is their true nightmare, and the only peace they can come by is the silence of a dream...
People underestimate the mind. It is the strongest tool in the human body, which pertains to many unknown abilities. People do not see the capabilities a human mind has. It all comes down to the dreams, the life one wishes to live to escape their so called "inescapable" nightmares. In all honesty, life is truly inescapable, unless one results in death; but that is weakness that shatters humanity. Humanity really has no hope, you live then you die. That is the way of the world; no one lives forever, no one is invincible.
I accepted that fact to a point. No, I cannot live forever but perhaps longer. And I am not invincible but what if I was invulnerable. These are not questions I have, but truth I am willing to tell - truth of my existence and everyone else in the world. Everyone has a purpose, whether it helps in ones rising or downfall. For me it is both. Because I do not know where I stand. I do not know if care to live or care to die. Perhaps I feel this way because of the mental and physical pain I've endured. The fact that I was locked away in wall of white has had a major impact on my sanity. Maybe I want revenge for the world that chained me to my fear. Inescapable silence. Not the normal silence I succumb to that I welcome with open arms, the silence belonging to fear. Trapped in a world of nightmares. Not able to find the dreams I seek. Instead trapped inside my own mind, the wretched smell of blood fumigating my lungs as I struggle to escape the drowning pool of darkness.
But why fight? Is there any point, any reason too? Maybe death is the only option. Perhaps if I was weak minded I would have resulted to it. But my nightmares seemed to make me stronger, and as time passed fear was no longer a word I was imprisoned too. Instead the only emotions burnt into my mind were anger and hate. No sorrow brewed, no happiness stirred. All I can think of was my freedom, and, my revenge.
----------
I heard them speak, soft voices, almost a whisper. Nonetheless, their voices boomed in my ears as if they were attached to surround sound. I practiced this. Ways to tune out the world. With a simple deep breath and closing my eyes.
My world. Another deep breath as minds swamped over my own. Resistance. Walls to block them. Breathe. Relax. Ignore the pain. Painless. As they came nearer, silence.
The doors opened, I knew that. But their voices had no sound. I knew there were speaking, I felt the words but did not hear them. Slowly I willingly let my eyes open. The same men as always - two of them - they never said their names, and there was no nametag to indicate them. But I knew. Through their minds I knew.
The younger of the two was Adam. Flashing brown eyes of exhaustion, wanting nothing more than to sleep. He hated me. I knew that, although he would not bring himself to speak the words. Messy blond hair with stands causing annoyance as they fell in front of his face. He asked a question. I heard nothing. But I knew, the same question as always - what is your name?
I locked with the green eyes belonging to the older man, Roger. He had pity for me. Disgusting. His shift was almost over, he only wanted to get home to his wife and his daughter. He'd been away from home to long. He had to be here with me. I was a state of emergency.
I did not wish to hear their fatigued voices. Their quizzical faces was enough for me. I closed my eyes again. It's time. He would come close any minute. A shot, fluids which buried me into unconsciousness, trapping me into my plotting nightmares. I smiled inside. Fools.
His hand was on my wrist. My eyes shot open and I pulled him toward me, I moved quickly to the side, his head collided into the wall with great force. Roger stared in shock. The first movement they've seen from me. He should have ran as I slowly stood on my feet. I approached him slowly, he couldn't run now, he was locked in my gaze.
No God. He repeated over and over in his mind. I suppose the blood gushing from Adam's head stroke a nerve of intense fear. I stood in front of him. The man pitied me. Therefore my morality took hold for a moment too long, letting me feel pity for this man. Forget morality. I've worked to hard. Teeth grinding from frustration. Walk away. I balled my hands into fists and left the room.
The silence was fading. I heard the clicking of pens, light taps of footsteps. The churning of electricity as lights burned my eyes. Yawning, speaking, faint laughter.
Escape...
My eyes shut and time passed. Then, when I reopened them, I was somewhere familiar. Moonlight shone upon me. Stars glistened.
Freedom...
----------
I heard them. Everyone's thoughts, their wishes. In their nightly slumber they dreamt, and I heard every single dream.
I bit down hard on my tongue drawing blood. The noise was irritating. Dreams of nonsense.
Silence.
I walked in silence, as if I was in an entirely different realm. My own world no one can dare to interrupt.
I studied the surroundings. Crippled buildings, run down cars. Some future. Someone brushed past me, thoughts of booze crept over my mind and I had the faint taste of a cigarette. I spat in disgust.
Everyone had a taste. It was a human trait connected with their aura. Sickening. This race is doomed.
I hated myself sometimes. I criticize them and mock them, am I any different? I'm one in the same just with different capabilities. Not like that made me special. Far from it.
I stopped in front of a liquor store. The cashier was ringing up a 24 pack of Coors Light to a drunken man who, guaranteed, would have pulled out a gun if the cashier would have said or done the wrong thing.
The drunken man tipped his imaginary hat and stumbled out of the store. He set the box on the ground and ripping open the box he pulled a can out. He tripped over his feet onto the floor. He stayed on his hands and knees and watched as his beer can rolled, stopping at my feet. He look up at me.
"What you lookin' at?" he said with a deep slur. He staggered to his feet. "Answer me." He was in my face, the stench of whiskey burned in my nose. "You got somethin' to say?" He wasn't a real threat. The alcohol in his blood was talking.
Walk away. I wasn't angry, aggravated more or less. I knew I would do something I'd regret. Regret, only because I need to be hiding. I knew I must have done something after I had left the room, but I was missing a part of time. I stepped back, turning taking my leave.
"That's right" he burped. "Walk away."
I clenched my teeth. I heard the man whimper behind me, when I turned back to him. He was on the floor, eyes rolled in the back of his head, shaking as if he was having a seizure. I laughed to myself in amusement. Good riddance. I turned and slowly walked away.
----------
I roamed around aimlessly on the dim lit streets. I embraced the darkness, it was the only home I knew.
Rain began to pour down softly, it was cold. It was then I realized I was barefoot and all I wore were a pair of white slacks and a white t-shirt. Thankfully the jacket that I was strapped in before had been taken off weeks before my decision to escape. My escape. I could have escaped any time. But being where I was caused me to have a safe haven until I was able to control the power of my mind.
I stopped peering into the reflection of a window. The last time I had seen myself I could not remember. I was sickly pale. Yet I seemed to be healthy, physically. My black hair was tousled, strands sticking in all directions. My stormy blue eyes looked lost, as if in another world. In my mind I seemed to be.
You're lost...
I spun around, my silence was disturbed by a female voice, unfamiliar. Penetrating my walls.
I'm lost too...
Her voice was faint, and it began to fade. I felt connected to her. I couldn't communicate, it seemed as if she were nonexistent. I waited for her voice to softly echo through my mind once again, but she was gone as quickly as she entered. It was the first sound I had heard that was gentle. It didn't boom in my head, like the irritating humans which surrounded me. But instead her voice was quiet, calming...yet sad. I tried to find her aura but she was gone, as if she disappeared. But her taste lingered on my tongue. A silk taste of roses. Pure and innocent.
I shook my head. I didn't matter, it was natural for a voice to break in. Stop fooling yourself. I continued walking again, trying to erase the thought of the alien voice.
----------
Plunging into darkness. Home. No more rain, no more cold air. Complete and utter silence. The silence I loved. It enveloped me, and I went willingly falling into my restless slumber. The mind once again. My mind. No one can penetrate. The girl.
My tangled thoughts arose me. I was in a dark room, for a moment I thought I was back, surrounded by the wall of whites. But no, a window was near by, a faint glow of moonlight peeked through the curtains; which swayed as the breeze from the open window blew into the room. I heard the wind whistle. A screech in the night, naked to the human ear.
I sat up, surrounded by a wave of blankets. My movements seemed automatic, more than controlled as I tore the blankets from me and swung my feet to the side of the bed.
Escape. That was all I could think. Not knowing where you are makes you vulnerable. Vulnerability makes you weak. Weakness does not exist for me. Closing my eyes I focused.
Cinnamon. Nerve racking. I was not fond of the taste. Bitter. Yet, no threat. I waited for the door to open.
"Ah, you're awake," her smile was warm. She carried a plastic tray with a porcelain glass and a tea kettle. "How are you feeling?" She stared at me, I suppose she was expecting an answer, but she wasn't going to get it. "You're probably still exhausted. You're lucky to be alive."
I studied her. She looked generous with her wide brown eyes. Her fine, curly, brown hair bounced over her shoulders. She looked extremely frail with light-colored skin, wearing a white nightgown with a matching robe which reached to the grey carpeted floor. Trustworthy. I turned away to the tray she sat on the table stand next to the bed. I studied the steam that arose from the cup. Intriguing.
"Herbal tea" her smile never wavered. "I'm Celeste."
Celeste. I repeated the name in my head as if trying to find some meaning behind it. Of course, there was none. I continued to stare at the steam. It held my complete focus. The silent sound of the rising heat echoed in my ears.
Escape.
She coughed softly, but it exploded in my ear drums. I turned to her, somewhat aggravated. "Well, if you feel you are up to it, you may leave whenever you wish." She was giving me a choice rather than an order. Curiosity made me enter the woman's mind.
Loneliness.
It seemed her husband died some odd years ago, she'd been alone ever since. With three miscarries, she never did have a child. She was grateful for the company. A widow at 37, quite unfortunate.
"Well I'll leave you to rest." She continued to smile. "Time I get to bed anyways. Goodnight." She turned and shut the door behind her as she exited.
I listened to her footsteps. I heard the silent creak of her bed as she struggled upon it. She cried softly, and soon fell into a restless slumber.
She was full of sorrow, nothing more. She was wealthy, she would not need to work a single day in her life, and she would still be taken care of. But, that meant nothing; she was just tired of being alone, and she only has so much longer to live. I could sense it. She had exactly a month before her time would come. I gritted my teeth.
No sympathy. Leave. Escape.
Celeste's dreams entered my head unexpectedly. Drowning out my thoughts, erasing my ideas. She reminded me of someone. Although, I couldn't remember. She dreamt of a garden, surrounding a small pond which shone in the sunset. She held the hand of the one she loved, her heart fluttered with joy.
No more. For her only. I shut out her dreams, her heavy breathing, her constant movements. Every sound that echoed in my ears were erased. I shut my eyes.
Silence.
----------
I woke up to a somewhat, delightful smell that flared in my nostrils. I didn't remember falling asleep. I never did. All I could remember is silence. The silence I loved. I stood. My feet were still bare, but I wore different clothing. Blue jeans and a red t-shirt.
How long...?
I left the room and finding the stairs. With ease I glided down the steps into the kitchen.
She was whistling some happy tune as she flipped a pancake on her pan. I sat down silently on a stool, seated in front of the counter. I studied her. I didn't notice how sickly thin she was. The white blouse she wore was loose, and her blue skirt swayed as she danced barefoot to her whistling tune.
She spun slightly, catching sight of me with a side glance. "Oh, good morning. Didn't even hear you come down" her smile was still warm. "Hungry?" She studied me with the utmost curiosity. "Well I assume you must be, after all you haven't eaten in the last three days." She whistled her tune again as she slid three pancakes from a pan to a plate. She walked toward me, setting the plate in front of me. "Something to drink?" I stared up at her, then to the pancakes. "You are a quiet one. I feel bad not knowing your name." She was in the refrigerator, grabbing a carton of milk.
I opened my mouth to speak. Then shut it quickly, pondering. My name. What is my name?
People underestimate the mind. It is the strongest tool in the human body, which pertains to many unknown abilities. People do not see the capabilities a human mind has. It all comes down to the dreams, the life one wishes to live to escape their so called "inescapable" nightmares. In all honesty, life is truly inescapable, unless one results in death; but that is weakness that shatters humanity. Humanity really has no hope, you live then you die. That is the way of the world; no one lives forever, no one is invincible.
I accepted that fact to a point. No, I cannot live forever but perhaps longer. And I am not invincible but what if I was invulnerable. These are not questions I have, but truth I am willing to tell - truth of my existence and everyone else in the world. Everyone has a purpose, whether it helps in ones rising or downfall. For me it is both. Because I do not know where I stand. I do not know if care to live or care to die. Perhaps I feel this way because of the mental and physical pain I've endured. The fact that I was locked away in wall of white has had a major impact on my sanity. Maybe I want revenge for the world that chained me to my fear. Inescapable silence. Not the normal silence I succumb to that I welcome with open arms, the silence belonging to fear. Trapped in a world of nightmares. Not able to find the dreams I seek. Instead trapped inside my own mind, the wretched smell of blood fumigating my lungs as I struggle to escape the drowning pool of darkness.
But why fight? Is there any point, any reason too? Maybe death is the only option. Perhaps if I was weak minded I would have resulted to it. But my nightmares seemed to make me stronger, and as time passed fear was no longer a word I was imprisoned too. Instead the only emotions burnt into my mind were anger and hate. No sorrow brewed, no happiness stirred. All I can think of was my freedom, and, my revenge.
----------
I heard them speak, soft voices, almost a whisper. Nonetheless, their voices boomed in my ears as if they were attached to surround sound. I practiced this. Ways to tune out the world. With a simple deep breath and closing my eyes.
My world. Another deep breath as minds swamped over my own. Resistance. Walls to block them. Breathe. Relax. Ignore the pain. Painless. As they came nearer, silence.
The doors opened, I knew that. But their voices had no sound. I knew there were speaking, I felt the words but did not hear them. Slowly I willingly let my eyes open. The same men as always - two of them - they never said their names, and there was no nametag to indicate them. But I knew. Through their minds I knew.
The younger of the two was Adam. Flashing brown eyes of exhaustion, wanting nothing more than to sleep. He hated me. I knew that, although he would not bring himself to speak the words. Messy blond hair with stands causing annoyance as they fell in front of his face. He asked a question. I heard nothing. But I knew, the same question as always - what is your name?
I locked with the green eyes belonging to the older man, Roger. He had pity for me. Disgusting. His shift was almost over, he only wanted to get home to his wife and his daughter. He'd been away from home to long. He had to be here with me. I was a state of emergency.
I did not wish to hear their fatigued voices. Their quizzical faces was enough for me. I closed my eyes again. It's time. He would come close any minute. A shot, fluids which buried me into unconsciousness, trapping me into my plotting nightmares. I smiled inside. Fools.
His hand was on my wrist. My eyes shot open and I pulled him toward me, I moved quickly to the side, his head collided into the wall with great force. Roger stared in shock. The first movement they've seen from me. He should have ran as I slowly stood on my feet. I approached him slowly, he couldn't run now, he was locked in my gaze.
No God. He repeated over and over in his mind. I suppose the blood gushing from Adam's head stroke a nerve of intense fear. I stood in front of him. The man pitied me. Therefore my morality took hold for a moment too long, letting me feel pity for this man. Forget morality. I've worked to hard. Teeth grinding from frustration. Walk away. I balled my hands into fists and left the room.
The silence was fading. I heard the clicking of pens, light taps of footsteps. The churning of electricity as lights burned my eyes. Yawning, speaking, faint laughter.
Escape...
My eyes shut and time passed. Then, when I reopened them, I was somewhere familiar. Moonlight shone upon me. Stars glistened.
Freedom...
----------
I heard them. Everyone's thoughts, their wishes. In their nightly slumber they dreamt, and I heard every single dream.
I bit down hard on my tongue drawing blood. The noise was irritating. Dreams of nonsense.
Silence.
I walked in silence, as if I was in an entirely different realm. My own world no one can dare to interrupt.
I studied the surroundings. Crippled buildings, run down cars. Some future. Someone brushed past me, thoughts of booze crept over my mind and I had the faint taste of a cigarette. I spat in disgust.
Everyone had a taste. It was a human trait connected with their aura. Sickening. This race is doomed.
I hated myself sometimes. I criticize them and mock them, am I any different? I'm one in the same just with different capabilities. Not like that made me special. Far from it.
I stopped in front of a liquor store. The cashier was ringing up a 24 pack of Coors Light to a drunken man who, guaranteed, would have pulled out a gun if the cashier would have said or done the wrong thing.
The drunken man tipped his imaginary hat and stumbled out of the store. He set the box on the ground and ripping open the box he pulled a can out. He tripped over his feet onto the floor. He stayed on his hands and knees and watched as his beer can rolled, stopping at my feet. He look up at me.
"What you lookin' at?" he said with a deep slur. He staggered to his feet. "Answer me." He was in my face, the stench of whiskey burned in my nose. "You got somethin' to say?" He wasn't a real threat. The alcohol in his blood was talking.
Walk away. I wasn't angry, aggravated more or less. I knew I would do something I'd regret. Regret, only because I need to be hiding. I knew I must have done something after I had left the room, but I was missing a part of time. I stepped back, turning taking my leave.
"That's right" he burped. "Walk away."
I clenched my teeth. I heard the man whimper behind me, when I turned back to him. He was on the floor, eyes rolled in the back of his head, shaking as if he was having a seizure. I laughed to myself in amusement. Good riddance. I turned and slowly walked away.
----------
I roamed around aimlessly on the dim lit streets. I embraced the darkness, it was the only home I knew.
Rain began to pour down softly, it was cold. It was then I realized I was barefoot and all I wore were a pair of white slacks and a white t-shirt. Thankfully the jacket that I was strapped in before had been taken off weeks before my decision to escape. My escape. I could have escaped any time. But being where I was caused me to have a safe haven until I was able to control the power of my mind.
I stopped peering into the reflection of a window. The last time I had seen myself I could not remember. I was sickly pale. Yet I seemed to be healthy, physically. My black hair was tousled, strands sticking in all directions. My stormy blue eyes looked lost, as if in another world. In my mind I seemed to be.
You're lost...
I spun around, my silence was disturbed by a female voice, unfamiliar. Penetrating my walls.
I'm lost too...
Her voice was faint, and it began to fade. I felt connected to her. I couldn't communicate, it seemed as if she were nonexistent. I waited for her voice to softly echo through my mind once again, but she was gone as quickly as she entered. It was the first sound I had heard that was gentle. It didn't boom in my head, like the irritating humans which surrounded me. But instead her voice was quiet, calming...yet sad. I tried to find her aura but she was gone, as if she disappeared. But her taste lingered on my tongue. A silk taste of roses. Pure and innocent.
I shook my head. I didn't matter, it was natural for a voice to break in. Stop fooling yourself. I continued walking again, trying to erase the thought of the alien voice.
----------
Plunging into darkness. Home. No more rain, no more cold air. Complete and utter silence. The silence I loved. It enveloped me, and I went willingly falling into my restless slumber. The mind once again. My mind. No one can penetrate. The girl.
My tangled thoughts arose me. I was in a dark room, for a moment I thought I was back, surrounded by the wall of whites. But no, a window was near by, a faint glow of moonlight peeked through the curtains; which swayed as the breeze from the open window blew into the room. I heard the wind whistle. A screech in the night, naked to the human ear.
I sat up, surrounded by a wave of blankets. My movements seemed automatic, more than controlled as I tore the blankets from me and swung my feet to the side of the bed.
Escape. That was all I could think. Not knowing where you are makes you vulnerable. Vulnerability makes you weak. Weakness does not exist for me. Closing my eyes I focused.
Cinnamon. Nerve racking. I was not fond of the taste. Bitter. Yet, no threat. I waited for the door to open.
"Ah, you're awake," her smile was warm. She carried a plastic tray with a porcelain glass and a tea kettle. "How are you feeling?" She stared at me, I suppose she was expecting an answer, but she wasn't going to get it. "You're probably still exhausted. You're lucky to be alive."
I studied her. She looked generous with her wide brown eyes. Her fine, curly, brown hair bounced over her shoulders. She looked extremely frail with light-colored skin, wearing a white nightgown with a matching robe which reached to the grey carpeted floor. Trustworthy. I turned away to the tray she sat on the table stand next to the bed. I studied the steam that arose from the cup. Intriguing.
"Herbal tea" her smile never wavered. "I'm Celeste."
Celeste. I repeated the name in my head as if trying to find some meaning behind it. Of course, there was none. I continued to stare at the steam. It held my complete focus. The silent sound of the rising heat echoed in my ears.
Escape.
She coughed softly, but it exploded in my ear drums. I turned to her, somewhat aggravated. "Well, if you feel you are up to it, you may leave whenever you wish." She was giving me a choice rather than an order. Curiosity made me enter the woman's mind.
Loneliness.
It seemed her husband died some odd years ago, she'd been alone ever since. With three miscarries, she never did have a child. She was grateful for the company. A widow at 37, quite unfortunate.
"Well I'll leave you to rest." She continued to smile. "Time I get to bed anyways. Goodnight." She turned and shut the door behind her as she exited.
I listened to her footsteps. I heard the silent creak of her bed as she struggled upon it. She cried softly, and soon fell into a restless slumber.
She was full of sorrow, nothing more. She was wealthy, she would not need to work a single day in her life, and she would still be taken care of. But, that meant nothing; she was just tired of being alone, and she only has so much longer to live. I could sense it. She had exactly a month before her time would come. I gritted my teeth.
No sympathy. Leave. Escape.
Celeste's dreams entered my head unexpectedly. Drowning out my thoughts, erasing my ideas. She reminded me of someone. Although, I couldn't remember. She dreamt of a garden, surrounding a small pond which shone in the sunset. She held the hand of the one she loved, her heart fluttered with joy.
No more. For her only. I shut out her dreams, her heavy breathing, her constant movements. Every sound that echoed in my ears were erased. I shut my eyes.
Silence.
----------
I woke up to a somewhat, delightful smell that flared in my nostrils. I didn't remember falling asleep. I never did. All I could remember is silence. The silence I loved. I stood. My feet were still bare, but I wore different clothing. Blue jeans and a red t-shirt.
How long...?
I left the room and finding the stairs. With ease I glided down the steps into the kitchen.
She was whistling some happy tune as she flipped a pancake on her pan. I sat down silently on a stool, seated in front of the counter. I studied her. I didn't notice how sickly thin she was. The white blouse she wore was loose, and her blue skirt swayed as she danced barefoot to her whistling tune.
She spun slightly, catching sight of me with a side glance. "Oh, good morning. Didn't even hear you come down" her smile was still warm. "Hungry?" She studied me with the utmost curiosity. "Well I assume you must be, after all you haven't eaten in the last three days." She whistled her tune again as she slid three pancakes from a pan to a plate. She walked toward me, setting the plate in front of me. "Something to drink?" I stared up at her, then to the pancakes. "You are a quiet one. I feel bad not knowing your name." She was in the refrigerator, grabbing a carton of milk.
I opened my mouth to speak. Then shut it quickly, pondering. My name. What is my name?