A Man's Fantasy of Reality

A man’s fantasy of reality – A story about death

A pitch forked wail
Demising the screams of demigods
We shall stand
Untied to the bonding of man
As flashes turns the grey sky pure
My heart falters in the blue waters
Turning red, black
Pitch black
Beginning the truth of survival.

There is no start of a week but only the ending of a life. My life ended where the week started and so shall the sun go down every night. I shall rise; come back for life at the weekend. In towns where we all let our souls go free, I will bind my own to forevermore. Every day has shown its mysteries, but only the weekends make us feel special in this society. Not everyone make themselves free of their body and mind through meditation.

Friday:

Each passing moment I picture myself in the nonexistent mirror that is aligned to that room which I actually do not own. An image scryed into the real time turncoat as if I had already turned black into white and the real me was somewhere deep in the space of my imagination. This time, and this town I live in which seems to be nothing but dots of human realization to what extend humanity now has led us to. This work time seems to drag endless moments into existence where I just can picture myself like a workaholic, a zombie bound to this chair in front of a desk not part time but all time of my miserable life. 24 hours of reality and its bliss.
Walking down the street in tie and ready made robes I see myself equally measured by my associates of this town. This life. These I share my time with many hours a day, months and even years walking up and down the halls of experience. Turning into this nightmarish condition by which we have been burdened by the force of daytime only till the night-time shift enters the market. After considering every turn I take down the different streets of this collection of buildings we call a town, I at last arrive at my final destination. A heartbroken man unclothed standing in front of the building carrying the package of prestige. A settled destination I can assure all that falls upon this diary of mine.
The smoke that burns from the rooftop can make patterns unseen to any man but me, as the house stands in flames I can only laugh at the misery and chaos around. No more – No more shall the order and laws stand bound by these lies of the world. No more shall we allow ourselves to be carried by the wind into what Icarus thought to be a miracle for man. Yes the sun – The fire burning in front of my sight.

As I get pushed and prodded by the fire departments’ loyal ants I can only help in destroying their work as much as possible. I see them falling as I tread a few steps into them, over them, on them just as an innocent bystander. They yell. Sure they yell. Somebody like them has to do their job, but I’m off from work and am free to do as I please. Freedom – Functionality of the brain at last. Writhing myself free of the working minds illumined by the thoughts of money which gives happiness. Never has happiness been so close to me as the fire is now. Lots of screaming around now, and everything is according to planning of nature. The nature of humankind and the bright hopes they have for themselves. We have. Yes it is not inhuman to think of this.

In a flash of mere moments the water hoses turn on and the fire now begins to make it devolve into nothing. The demon yet again walking back into the lair of darkness where it will wait for us. Only I can stop those others. Those peace loving ants of this democracy. With my pen I shall defeat this plague that the good guys always turns up with(Who are they?). I shall turn truth to lies and let the guilt of the world bear down on its own hands.
Upon those thoughts he ran into the fire and disappeared into the darkness. The red guilt ate the human up before the fire department could reach to take out the fire. Nothing was there to find of anyone being killed. No one knew of him anymore – His name – His function in this world of man, His existence had turned into the nothingness that we all were destined for.

Saturday:
Hence the time and place where every coincidence meets, a man should stumble upon a small piece of paper not far from where he lived. Flying right to his taking, he began reading the true purpose of this world, and saw the true enlightenment that came with this. Now it was to move upon the holy crusade for others to see how I could see the world. A world that sees no purpose other than tricking our minds eye into believing.

I make myself amends walking down yet a new street. To a corner newly built. A wedding must have happened between brick and clay to let all those roads come into existence. Seeing no sense and direction of those, from those, I know it is yet another day. Walking the expected retreat into my office building, I can only stand here and wait for another day to be over. Only as I step in I get greeted. Not by the voices of those I know, but the limits of the madmen who have done anything in their power to construct anything like this.

The balance has been broken for many lives and worlds. Nothing but waste lays out into the eyes of passers by. You just see me change the day again today. As I hand over my quick produced scribblings to that desk boy over there I sure put in a nice word for myself as leading man in this world. As the day goes by and the hours pass to my favour, I watch every other member of this place walk away – Fast as slow.
Alas – Yet still I am sitting here waiting for my hour to come and the luck of the world to turn in favour of my desires.

The corridor goes still as the last of the hours passes by in this event we call day. There is no family to go home to in this career. I am my job. Everything that stands near me in my life of feeling is just another desk, another pen and another day of tiresome work schedules which only gives an uneasy look at me every time I try to stare it down. I am calling into the silence and yelling up and down the corridors as every last other member of this community has left me alone in this madhouse. The ecstasy and freedom of these movements I can make while being alone in such a safe building – Such a free haven for us workers. Never shall we be harmed with such a steel door – such a lining of panels into perfection. Of course nothing but the last percent of chance will allow us to be harmed in here.

As I come to the elevator at last – Yes being in the 14’Th floor is something we always choose to do as part of our business life. As expected it’s just waiting for me to walk into it so it can devour me with half witty music, and non-scenic environment that belongs to it. (Why haven’t there been made any beautiful italic mountain environments in such a place anyway?)
These wooden boards I hold onto while going along the passage into the elevator. Those artfully designed pieces of wood – of oak and mahogany. I wish I were those, touched every day in every way and then cleaned in the night time in such a satisfactory hand rubbing. Or is it to wish to be them when they were alive and large forests. When they grew themselves tall and sturdy only to look down at us humankind and forget who would be cutting them down.

Standing here and clicking the L for lobby several times and observe those metallic doors close, I too close my eyes to look into what makes every soul tick. My soul ticks ticks ticks. Feels like the elevator controls the souls ticking – Automatically click for every second it walks its way down the horizontal corridor (was I in heaven or just a hell high up? Down on earth there is still no difference, and to that we must conclude us humans have created the ultimate Midgaard. Hell and heaven have been connected into what our souls tell us.) It stops – Silence – Peace. As the elevator stops so should every soul that has no understanding, no way of praying.
With a wave of an arm the elevator doors open as though I created a power by mind and hand to repel these doors of iron and steel from the base which they have been created. A power surges through me at the realization that office hours are done at last. The night has begun and the moon has risen into the middle of the sky. (Those glass doors sure are a remarkable invention in our days). A crash from behind tells how the judging of mathematics corresponding with physics has failed yet another day. A burning starts from below as these windows I see through begins to creak and give up in the fight of everlasting life in death. I walk. Walk till there is nothing but road on both my sides. A repetition of the events I felt yesterday when I disappeared – It shall not happen again I trust everyone of that. The temptation is not so high now, since the relaxation of office hours again has turned me into my more self-obedient me. I see the fire trucks and ambulances drive by and grin to myself. Maybe I am still wild. It was just pure luck that a trigger had stuck itself into my brain, which I should walk out of that glass door alive.

Sudden explosions make my heart go faster and louder in my head and now I know what I have done. The last of the building collapses and screams begin to erupt from the loss of humans. People who bear no understanding that is sure. They should have stayed away from this realm of imaginary happiness. They must all die and disappear to see this truth they’ve created. WHAT THEY MADE ME DO! MADE ME INTO THIS! WHAT AM I? I can’t go by any glass doors or windows without seeing the beast I’ve become. Self-destructive patterns of the body begin to show with this realization, the fingernails dig themselves into my arms and tears begin to come out of those eyes. I feel the numbing pain and try to resist the urge to keep doing this. The blood makes my mind turn in the wrong direction and I now must do something about it. The tongue sticks out on its own dragging itself down…

Iron. That is what much of this is created by. I taste it and suck it all dry until the bleeding just stops and goes dry. Lusting for more there is no other option but to give up. I can not take out the night – The darkness for which I came. It has beauty and I long for it every day. I cry again and walk into the night, into the everlasting night.

The chemical labs – That was what I was searching for. My mind had been blank for many moments of running into the night, but I ended up the right place odd enough. This place, as deserted as it is makes every inch of the body quiver with fear. Standing tall upon the mountaintop of falsehood it shows the glory of the world in a completely wrong sense. I have no understanding of this and stop crying. Anger tempts itself to go forward, but I hold it back scouring the area for entrances. As luck is always on my site from nature and its helpful way of rotting what we have created. Sad that a fence of falsehood never upheld the laws of nature. Not this electric fence. The power has gone out from the water leaking it really did deserve, and from there the holes of corruption have showed itself to me and unfortunately not to any others (Where are they?). A confused look in my eyes tells the tale. Alone and deserted on the road to wisdom I walk inside the doors of the lab. With every effort and force of my hand I turn the words of creation to destruction all the way to the bowels full of unholy water. In rage I dip my own head into them and scream feeling how everything dissolves. Vanish from my mind. Thoughts turn up in the right order. I cry.

As the desecrated tears of blood leaves what eyes I have left form the burning acids I just welled my head into I remember that he is mine and mine is his. Two becomes three in remembrance of the world we now are laying waste to. A holy trinity with a purpose – a desire to lay waste to what “the others” have created in their longing for knowledge and order in this world. It only creates destruction and silence in the path it walks. In the path we walk will the same truth reveal itself but only from what it possessed? It will no longer stand in our way as our tasks is to let it crumble and deceive itself until there is nothing left but the original design. Devolution is the term for what is going to happen as the minds self-destructive pattern reveals itself in every man from now until the end of time. Man will no longer be man, but the beast it once was. And at that time it will only be another who triumphs – Or none at all. Time will triumph most likely, as always the nature prevails by default from the time.

On the last word from self-destruction I jump into this pool of acid to erase every memory of what I here have held in my hands before it was too late to realize it was inevitable to walk away from the truth forever. None shall ever know and survive but those who have already understood the religion that formed the world. And the belief that it could stand on its own legs for more than just... 2. Centuries. That is where I float into the reincarnation far away from the thoughts of that man who just fell into the pool where no one returns from – There is no light at the end of his tunnel because he was a man – is a man – and would always be a man till death.

Sunday:
Guess how his day is. How his world has been formed. Everything he stands for is nothing but silence within the heart. The temptation of suicide has already been on his mind, but still he lives on to see what the next day will bring him of misunderstandings and misjudgments.
Strolling along the empty road at imaginary night created by imaginary thoughts of desire to fill every heart with fear he should walk past he stumbles upon what most haven’t been able to see right in front of them. Maybe he just looks down too many hours of the day, or maybe he didn’t do it enough since it was now and not then he watched this thing – paper – diary go past him in a flick.

A thought as I “he” – The last and first of many the paper in the hands. All our hands. This paper that holds the truth, which is just not any paper but the skull, the body and the limbs of a single animal. Not just a single animal, but every animal we know and do not know just for the sake of itself to sustain defends and bites the truth into us. My blood as the others goes from red to black. Like the bile we make and then stays like this – Frozen in the time as the act of truce has been completed. Already I knew of course – Because I was him and he was me. The reunited thoughts that stood between insanity and complete knowledge melded into each other and the animal I just let go. Living my normal day as a normal person would be – In no need of looking into that office, but just out at the nature of man, of animal and into the cooperation that really did not exist for us. Hope in the heart that something soon would happen to change the world by which we have been tormented by us lost souls.
My truth hidden in these words lies open for you – forever lingering for the reading and forever waiting consume the silence.

Sunday goes by
Words choke from every neck
A snap of freedom unbinds the chains
Chaos marks us all
Tireless I stand
Grinning
The human begins anew.
A flesh goes by.
Eyes red
Blisters turn to all – Melt by me
The feast begins.