My last blog post was lacking. Andrew said that it was really good until it suddenly ended, which is how I felt writing it. I'm a terrible writer almost all the time; sometimes a beautiful moment strikes and I write something that I like, and that happened in the woody when I started writing that last post. But the bubble burst before I was finished articulating my thoughts, and instead of try really hard to get that mood back I gave up and posted half a post. I also LOVE compound-complex sentences ~ which may be why I love reading The Hobbit!
I figured why not share something embarrassing from high school? My last post sucked, so maybe nobody will read this. Or maybe this will draw whoever reads my blog back in…
I wrote this confusing, half-formed story full of lyrics in a creative writing class the last semester of my senior year of high school, and I have no idea what it's about, maybe you know:
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Conor Made me Write This
“Wind
in my hair, I feel part of everywhere
Underneath
my being is a road that disappeared
Late
at night I hear the trees, they’re singing with the dead, overhead…”
The trees spun past him in a never-ending
conga line as the leaves pulled Dave into the underbrush with them. All the colors of autumn danced around his
foggy head, and the dirt found his calloused hands before his sight disappeared
completely.
When he opened his eyes he was alone. No more sighing moss or sleeping logs. He was drowning in powder. The desert was melting out from the heat of
his heart, and the emptiness of the arctic was collapsing his lungs. He’d never been in a place so white; the
cleanliness of nature was awe-inspiring.
He didn’t belong in the pristine wonderland he’d somehow woken up
in. Dave watched the ocean rise and fall
three feet below his cheek in time with the rushing sound of waves somewhere to
his left.
He peeled his cheek off the pack ice and
tried to stand up. Stars popped in front
of his eyes and his knees cracked. When
his feet were finally under him, Dave started walking.
He walked for miles and for years. His footprints in the snow disappeared as
soon as he lifted his other foot. He
watched polar bears drown and baby seals get eaten. He watched arctic foxes steal across the
permafrost and birds flap and squawk in vein twenty yards away as their nests
were raided and their eggs dropped.
He watched the "sunrise and the sunset; there is no way to escape". He watched the circle of time and space and
light and air swirl around him as he walked.
He lost his mind in the darkness of winter searching for the golden band
of horizon that should have been to the east.
Whenever he closed his eyes green wisps of smoke burned his eyelids open
again and he kept walking. He forgot he
was alive.
“Fare thee well, fare thee well, I love you
more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to
rock my soul.”
The vines brushed his arms and cheeks as he
kept walking. Each pond in the Amazon
has more species of fish in its crystal depths than the entire Pacific
Ocean. Dave wandered through the maze of
one tree’s roots forever. The world was
upside down. The sky was full of life
and the ground was lonely. Dave’s eyes
glinted off bright frogs and dark cats; he touched mushrooms that looked like
clouds. Monkeys swung above him and
crocodiles followed him along the second longest river in the world. Dave breathed in scents no one had ever
smelled before; he stumbled across the cure for cancer, but passed it by. It rained in circles from the trees
themselves, and leaves tickled his head.
Every second, earthmovers and loggers
slashed one and a half acres closer to Dave, stealing the nutrients of an
entire world and leaving the ground barren, scared, and lifeless.
Dave’s eyelashes were still sticky when he
woke up. His hands were outstretched,
digging into the earth. When he stood up
leaves fell out of his hair. He looked
at me in amazement and said, “Have you ever felt the world around you?"
My breath caught in my throat and my hands
tingled. I wanted to open my eyes but
they were already open. I didn’t want
anything anymore; everything was here, and nothing was here. I could feel the river of sound pouring over
my ears and into my soul, filling my feet with heavy perfection. My hair was blowing over my cheeks and around
my shoulders as though birds were carrying me away. The grass kept me with the earth as my mind
and body flew away with the notes.
"Did
she make you cry
make
you break down
shatter
your illusions of love
is
it over now- do you know how
to pick
up the pieces and go home"
