Misunderstood

People don't get me, and it's not my problem.  I say things that are perfectly clear to me, and people look at me with a wide range of facial expressions; from a glazed-over, blank retarded look, like Homer Simpson thinking about donuts, to looks of complete disdain, as if I had just flatulated ferociously in the elevator.  It used to bother me tremendously.  I spent years wasting energy, worried what people thought of me.  I still have moments of weakness when a brief sense of self insecurity steals my confidence.  At times like this, I simply remind myself that sometimes some people don't get me, but its not my problem.

The One Second Piece

She sat in the garage, towards the back by the wooden workbench built along the wall.  Her head hanged over the game she played on her phone while the fluorescent lights above her hummed a monotonous tune to the back of her head.  Her posture was closed, as if she felt exposed in the fishbowl feeling of the space.  The chair where she sat faced the now dark television in the corner.  She had slid back so that she was behind the large punching bag hanging from the rafter, blocking the view through the windows on the garage doors.  A thin column of smoke rose above her head.

She sucked in the final drag and was hit!

A flash of seeing and feeling and knowing;

A glimmer of heartfelt recognition;

A moment…

And it was gone.

Nothing left but the hazy ripple of memory.

A part of her has died.

She didn’t know what she thought it could be.  Did part of her soul body die at that moment?  Has a tentacle of experience been severed?  It couldn’t be anybody she was close to.  It gave the impression of being too far away for that.  Had someone she never knew in this life died?  She sensed unfamiliar love.  A great love from a life past perhaps.

She threw the cigarette on the gray garage floor.

A forlorn flicker, a sad sense;

A burst busted and gone.

It fades…

The pond placid;

A part of her had died.

A part of her soul – gone.

 

 

Death and the Deadly Sins

 

Some people believe when you die you go to hell or purgatory, depending on your level of badness while you were alive.  Some people believe there is nothing.  Some people believe the sum of all your experience is uploaded to the Universal Knowledgebase.  And many variations and permutations within and around these varied beliefs exist.  I wish to agree with the people that believe our next step from here is a Thought World.  A dream world of sorts where you think it and it is.  It is in this world that we shed all of the skin of our desires. 

Am I feeling lustful?  I can create any sexual scenario, without worry of rejection or repercussion.  Then do it over and over and over again, until I don’t desire it anymore. 

And when all that sex makes me hungry?  I’ll eat whatever, whenever I like.  Triple Whopper with cheese?  No problem, I’ll take 3.  Gleefully gluttonous at will! 

And of course I won’t forget to be greedy.  Anything I desire.  A large mansion on a cliff overlooking the ocean?  Mine.  A great place to just lie around.  I’ll sit back on my humongous couch looking through the large window at waves crashing against the rocks.  I could sit there for years.  With the power of thought-creation everything is possible. 

And if I want to feel depressed?   I can create a melancholy and wallow in it for as long as I wish. 

Wallow in it until all that wallowing makes me angry.  Then I can create victims to kill.  I can kill in every way I ever allowed myself to imagine.  Really explore those dark desires.  It’s ok.  I’ll do it until the itch has been fully and satisfactorily scratched. 

And I want a neighbor with a beautiful wife and life to covet.  When I want to explore my envy, I will covet his wife and home like some sick psycho, looking through the telescope from the upstairs bedroom, in the dark, watching their happy marriage unfold, the whole time just wanting her for myself. 

How prideful I would be!  With all my things and all my experiences!  Standing like a gladiator, foot on fallen foe, taking in the thunderous applause, smiling like I deserved it, like I never doubted it would come to this.

 And when I’m ready to leave all those corporeal creations, when I have exhausted all those desires, all those wishes and whimsies, then I will be ready for the next level.