Friday, May 28, 2004

nova

when i lie in bed, i imagine the bed can take me places. i imagine it taking away all this empty world-this place i am forced to live in-and i imagine my bed is like a magic carpet, it takes me for a ride. sometimes i can feel myself drifting on it, and i try to see the stars, and feel the wind in my hair, but then i open my eyes and see the same i’ve seen forever. i think forever is a long time, and that even forever has an end.

i do not remember my dreams, and as i lie in this bed, i remember being younger, and how simple that life was. i look at myself in the mirror and wonder what’s happened. i want to blame something for taking this all away. everyone used to ask me what i wanted to be when i grew up, and i was ignorant and dumb then, and would tell them i wanted to be a scientist. i used to read books about the universe, and space, and i used to say if i were to be a certain kind of scientist, i would be an astronomer. i remember i read in a book that eventually the sun was going to destroy the earth, and i find myself thinking about that more and more, and fully understanding it now that i am older.

i remember i would look up in the sky, and i would look at it and think how beautiful it is. now when i look at the sky, i just realize i cannot stand it anymore. it is no longer beautiful. when i look at the twinkling sky, i feel it’s alien, and i feel i’m alien. i wonder if there’s another form of life out there quite like us human beings. i wonder if they live like us-wasting our lives away, slaving for money, wanting and lusting to succeed. always wanting to be better than the other. i wonder if they actually have a better world-one that i can only imagine of now. for i never dream anymore.

there are two types of dreams. there are those dreams you dream as you sleep, in that thin wall of subconscious existence. then there are those dreams we soar to achieve. one boy might want to be famous one day, one boy might want to be a scientist, as i wanted to be, one boy might want to be a teacher. that’s the other dream there is.

to me, these two variances of dreams are the same. the dreams i now wish for-to be a writer, and simply live off that-and the ones i dream in sleep-are the same. they are the same because neither happen in reality, and i don’t remember either of them. i don’t feel this dream anymore. i don’t even know it. it’s as alien as looking up at that twilit sky, seeing those twinkling stars, and seeing how vast the universe is and wondering if there’s actually anything more-anything as amazing as i dream-out there. if there’s aliens out there who feel as alien as i do.

when i think about it, i am a somnambulist. i am a sleepwalker, and i have been my whole life. i don’t prescribe to this contrived reality i see, but rather, i live in the depths of myself, in my imagination. my imagination isn’t child-like anymore, it is a deep monster, a black hole, that at times has glimpses of a child. but in and of itself, my imagination is still child. it is a child bitter with this world, but not angry. i have never been prone to anger-instead, i am prone to holding of a grudge. i like my feelings served cold, and revenge is, quite correctly, one of those.

my imagination is like a friend to me-one that understands me completely and fully. it does not speak to me, but it does create, and it does destroy. my imagination’s main way of communicating outside of me is words. at times, my imagination, the monster it is, will grab this reins that are me and whip me to blood with its words. sometimes these words feel written in cold blood, sometimes these words feel written and smeared; sometimes they feel other things-but in the end, they always feel right. i do not know what i would do without my imagination’s finding of words as an outlet of expression. i do think that if i hadn’t found words my imagination would’ve died, and a long time ago. maybe me with it.

i feel like an alien. the only thing that doesn’t make me feel like an alien is my imagination, and these words. sometimes even these words feel alien, feel like they’re further alienating me. maybe sometime i’ll be growing those big bulbous eyes, and those petite, pallid hands. maybe i’ll be an alien. especially when i already am.

have you ever felt beyond this world? have you ever felt those two eyes of yours go in your head and dig? i’ve heard there’s some graves there. even some bones to throw. maybe there’s a rocket to the stars too. maybe it’ll let us escape, being the aliens we are. just give it time and we can go wherever we please, and go beyond this world’s disease-and be free. it all starts a little way above the knees. just a little reaction to this attraction and then it starts to please. this is release. we will be astronauts outside our suits, i will slowly take your suit off, and you will take mine off, and as aliens in space, we will float through this wide beyond to the end. it will be cold-numbing, even tiring-but i will know which direction is south, and i will know how to feel. with my hands i will touch and it will be an out-of-body experience even though you’re in-body. let’s take some time and take some more, we have nothing to lose but ourselves-and don’t you tell anyone.

aliens are meant to be above. they’re meant to be ahead. they’re meant to be in the string-held, orchestrated sky. we’re just puppets-we do not deny. our strings lead to our hearts. let’s play with the strings a little longer, and become tangled in this maze. i think i’ve seen this before, but it’s nice. this twilit sky, these stars, the blackness. space is the best way to see. space is a real image of imagination. vast and endless, never-ending, over-encompassing, going on and on, with planets-those spheres-and red giants-and black holes-and galaxies and nebulae and novas and meteors and asteroids. i think i wanna take my suit off again. i wanna see you breathing through me. i wanna take in this whole sky. i wanna see how beautiful it is to float here and just fly. without this space suit i’m just here in this sky, my imagination cradles me to go beyond and ride. i love the way your skin looks tonight. the alienation in my bones, my deepness stark. do not leave me, do not leave me. let me love you here in my head. i’ll just hold you till we’re dead, floating, in my imagination. dream for me because i can’t dream anymore. let’s go beyond.

you’re my god, i’m your christ. let’s be crucified in the end. i think my life’s just a bend. i think i’ll be crucified when i go. this life’s done it to me. don’t you see how grounded i really am? going beyond this space here in my head, i’m stuck down below. it’s always the edge. you can have my body of christ, my bread of life, i’ll feed it to you. you can dig the inches of nails into me. you know one’s gonna go through the heart, break it down. i just wanna hold you then. corpus christi, corpus christi my dear. mistress, do not fear. the misery the agony, you’re making me alive. you’re a frankenstein. oh dear, my dear. the clouds in the sky made it rain. the lightning bolt was bold. it hit me in the chest. i felt it openly caress and make me alive. won’t you just be mine? i live for you, my god. i live for you.

through the window of your eyes, i saw what you were covering up. everything was steel, the automatic feel. they all smiled but it was fake, wasn’t real-it was contrived, an affable thing. they were all machines. android eyes, death’s-hands, they had the eyes of something inhuman. can i have you back? can i just hold you in my arms? i wanted to shut off your safety alarms. i meant no harm. i grab you by the arm. you shove me away and i’m left here alone. robots have my heart and they tore it apart. your batteries just need to recharge. i freefall to the ground and make a crater with your form inside.

a space cadet glow, and i’m floating in cold space. i look on over to touch your face but it’s got a see-through helmet covering it up. were those tears in your eyes? i wipe away. what was that you tried to say? your lips moved. your lips moved and kissed me away. i wanna take off my space suit and yours too. why must we float in this devoid? inside i’m wanting to disappear. it’s lonely, it’s lonely. i go off and land on the sun and burn up for a while. you just sit there and float. i’m burning for you. the flames scorch me raw. the fire inside is irascible, i see your eyes burn. let’s burn all else away. the time is running out. the dancing flame. we need some rain. the rain shoots down and like a bullet to the chest i land in your arms. we put the flames out together. she’s burning me away. she’s my sun and i orbit her. and sometimes i need to wear some sunscreen to keep away her ultraviolet rays. skin cancer will eat me away. i just want to get inside her. this cancer is terminal and malignant. it eats at me. i just want to have her. her ultraviolet rays are too strong. i’ve got skin cancer, and it’s for her. it’s eating me up. it’s summer on my planet, she’s close to me. she burns cloudless in the sky. what would i do without your rays of sunshine to my eyes? what would i do without the skin cancer you give me? when winter comes it’s gonna be mighty cold. she’ll still burn but not as bright. she’ll be too far away. too distant from my arms. i savor this season and watch everything grow.

one day her sun will hit my earth. it’ll boil away my water, destroy my population. she’ll expand to a red giant and burn out with a bang. then she’ll be a white dwarf in the sky. my planet’ll be disintegrated. i’m gonna miss her then. i think i will cry when she burns up. she’s still wearing that helmet up here. i rip it off and embrace her and tell her it’s all right. up above ourselves, it’s night. we fall asleep in each other’s arms. my weary eyes look to when she’s gonna fade. i use my imagination and make her last forever, even after that day. this is just the end of the world. and we float and coalesce. we feel and caress. we live as if we’re going to die. our lips together shape a why. our bodies together make a because. all this will fade, all this will fade. she’s my god and she crucifies me each day. i am not a blasphemer.

turn the page on this book where i write. what do you see? i looked to the last page of my book, and i found you. i tried to erase it but it came back down. i felt it crash my car. you’re such a blazing star. this universe is empty without you. in a burst, the sky is blue. i am sad, it’s true. what am i to do? i look at the pages of my book and tear. i wanna get rid of everything that’s me. you hold my hand and color me in crayons. you’re coloring me in crayons. this isn’t crayola. you’re such a blazing star. your colors are so bright. i’m a coloring book for you to color in. i’m black and white at the beginning, you make me feel. there’s too many colors for you to use. there are two colors in my head. you’re coloring me in crayons, you’re coloring me in crayons. i’m full of hue.

do you see what this imagination drew? did you see the niche of words? i felt it change. without it i am in chains. you rust the steel that is on me. you make it breakable. unbreakable toys are used to break breakable toys. i know how to turn your crank. i know how to position you. you’re my action figure. you come with accessories. you’re a doll. i wanna see you for a while. i take off these rusted chains and smile. it’s all so futile. i keep along. my imagination holds you in its arms. it gets stale, i feel i want to bail. i exhale at this world and brush it away like i’m brushing my hair. some of it gets stuck on the brush in thin strands. it looks like a spider’s web. did i catch any insects in there? you look like a swarming fly to me. too bad i’m not a spider, then i’d have you for dinner. this world is like a hive, and all the bees live for their queen bees. the queens rule with an iron fist. this is her monarchy. i am not her king. this is uxorcide. how very uxorious this is. i am submissive and give in. for her i have sinned. she has me in her web. i comb my hair and look away from the mirror. i get up and leave. the pages are full of nothing. they’re yellowing with age. but the words still stand out, bold and engraved. my queen bee, i’ll die for you. my stinger goes in my own skin. i feel it go deep in. it hit some bone. the bones are my chains. she makes me go beyond this flesh. she makes me more than a human being. through her i am not mortal. my stinger comes off of me and i spasm back and forth in pain. she makes my bones go away. she makes me die. i know why. my book is full of the answers. i pull her-a thin strand-from the web. i wet the comb and watch the fibers of the world go down the drain. it’s just me and her, nothing else to put me in these chains. she rusts my bones. she takes the calcium away. her milk keeps me sustained. we make honey. the sweet stick. her honey’s the best. how it feels as i lick it away. she’s the queen. she’s all i’ll ever need.

and so-here in this space-i dream of you. my dreams are empty as my soul. this dream of you is as weak as any other. it is a human need. i sometimes put aside the human side of me now. i take it away and interrogate it. i find that it’s so undefined. it is so lost. i find that it is cowardly. and mainly, i find that it is human.

my imagination is a bed i sleep in and dream in. it is a comfy cushion for all this world tries to break me to do. i am not afraid to serve this reality, just as long as i can look to my unreality. i can go deep in my head while i’m doing fine outside. i can be up in the stars, an alien. i can be in the twilight zone.

the child i once was is replaced by this fiend. i look over, and go on. the death of the child is hard to overcome, but it is just another page in my book. someday this novel will be published. someday she will be what i write for. my bible will be for her and her alone. i will read her verses of it and go to her church and pray. i am unsanctified, i am broken, open, and displayed. she will cover my bullet holes. this is the fiend i am. i am not afraid of it.

without the words, i have nothing to say. without them, i have nothing to win anyone over with.

as albert einstein said, “imagination is more important than knowledge.” i will keep this as long as i can. this destruction is a better form of creation in my head. i will orbit the sun and be blinded by its light. i will slowly edge upon death-that bloodsoaked fan. it will suck me into its blades. i will become part of that offal. i will look up at the cigar smoking sky and smell the violating smell of smoke-how it lingers, and grays my lungs. i will watch my world die. and i will build a rocket straight to her sun. i will forget everything about me and know everything about her. my imagination will get me through. i don’t need anyone else’s help but its help.

here’s to boldly going where no man has gone before.

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