Sunday, May 17, 2009
Prior to the day of awakening of the apparent, a recent discovery had leveled the past into a series of banal choices and regrets. Within a few years, myriad instances of sour luck had dulled the mind and left mucus sticking within the sinuses. Some even lost their ability to hear properly and blamed something else other than the body giving out of its abuse. What could be considered family had failed miserably. Strange teenage molesters had inebriated themselves within what once was considered home, and the bugs had even been bested of their lies. Not even the cockroaches were down to infest, the trauma had caused them conceptual awareness, and they had made a democratic decision that the last thing they ever wanted was to infest a disease and dying memory contained by badly placed plastic siding and a slipping concrete slab. It was a place where the zucchinis’ grew into themselves as obese; dog piss has a way of injecting the steroids back into the ground like no other syringe could dream. There were many flowers, but they were always covered by the raw sewage ejaculated from the mouths of so many composts. It had become a compote of deranged avenges when the last half began and those spirits realized their eternity together had bested even a god’s revenge. Exile had become a real option and not a regret, and so it was that within many changes, few choices were actually divorced from their ideal. In erasure, the apparent began to realize that everything that once was had changed states, so rather than being rained on, silent rays of sun had pushed through and reminded of the importance of green shades and blue tones. All those cancerous demons exorcised and liquefied through the menial passage of time. Everything became empty, but the emptiness became a void of frivolous spirits all condensing themselves into gaseous outpourings of scented dirt.