The Corpse of Chronos

I'm confronted with cavernous darkness and echoing air. An expanse both dense and hollow; warm just slightly past the point of comfort. My movement is much more limited than it should be given the vastness. I am floating rather than walking, and the speed of my action is limited as if the air is water.

I am in the belly of an unknown beast.

It's not a question of how I came to be trapped. I am looking for a way out. However, without vision, without a reference point, I am eternally centered. Each passing increment of time re-anchors me to the present moment, and I make no outward progression. If only I could move faster, explore more, surely then I would be able to find an exit. What I have yet to fully comprehend, however, is the truth about the passing time:

The beast died long ago.

What is beyond this insulated casket? When the rotting leaves me a skeleton in a cage of bones, what then? My eyes, blinded from a lifetime of darkness will be unable to see the expanse of the desert that claimed the beast. I will be too old and weak to venture forward, weighed down even by my dessicated skin. Perhaps I will muse to myself some final words, wry and eerily cheerful.

"Don't worry about what you eat. Worry about what eats that which eats you."

Waiting Rooms

The sallow faces of people sag as they wait for their name to be called. Patients waiting. Squeaking doors perk heads, and attentions snap anxiously like grazing animals disturbed. When nothing happens the herd returns to the magazines, the complimentary water, the gravity of the low-sounding television. There is so much anticipation for a place where noone wants to be.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Ocular Appreciation

A blink. Days have passed. Cherry blossoms fell in festival last week, perhaps the week before. A blink. Yellow light in the air draws my attention in diagonal, opposite angles of the setting sun. Opposite angels, the city of which I call home. My home calls me. Between blinks of realization and slivers of sound, consciousness reminds me that wholeness and completeness are only conglomerations of fragmentation. The spectrum is white light shattered. A blink and light is gone. Black is not a color, but the absence of. A blink because my eyes are dry, even in the darkness.

On beginning:

So I'm realizing that this will in all likelyhood become a creative outlet for me while I'm sitting here at work. I'm sure I'll use it at other times, but like right now, I have nothing to do other than slowly slip into a food coma, so instead I'm going to write! Hurray.

Today's been relatively uneventful. My job on the whole is pretty uneventful. Buying food and running errands is the bulk of my responsibility. Which is good, I guess. It seems like I'm having more and more responsibility coming into my life outside of work nowadays, so it's nice not to have to feel too pressured to perform at the office.

Yesterday I went through the archives of my old livejournal. It was really interesting to read all of the emotions that I went through. It showed a pretty sharp contrast in my moods, almost a narrative depiction of my bipolarity. Somedays I was ecstatic, others morose, but the thing that struck me the most was the consistency of the writing. It was very inspired, and very creative. Right now, I feel out of touch with that part of my writing. I've become very deliberate and focused, but at the expense of passion. Ah, to find balance.

This journal (I really don't like the word blog) is going to end up like my LJ, but it's going to be better, more balanced. Once I get the hang of how to handle this sucker, I'm going to let it all hang out.

Focused and balanced in its chaos, naturally.

Wilkommen!

Here we are again, dear reader. Just us. Well, just me right now, as I have no readership just yet, but this is for you when you finally join me here. It's been a while since I've had a steady journal. While I maintain a blog on my myspace, it's more emotional and sporadic than anything. I want to utilize this platform the best way possible. I want to communicate my thoughts, opinions, emotions. I want this to become a dialogue. I have a few ideas for what this will become, I suppose in time we will see what develops.

So anyways, welcome. If you've read me before, you know what's coming. If you're new, be prepared for the ridiculous, the empassioned, the asanine, and the sometimes unfounded.

Peace, Love, and a 100% Mortality Rate.