deus.ex.machina
21 Jul 2005, 08:55 PM
Day 1
I sat on the front steps of my 4th street apartment lost in thought as usual. The day seemed rather dull as if the morning sun neglected to shine any color on the passer bys. Everything looked the same as always. Hookers were on the corner; cops drove by and did nothing about the crack dealers; the bitch next door was rambling on about her typical nonsense. Suddenly I felt a slight rise in the temperature and looked up to see an archetypal Greek goddess kneeling before me. All other stimuli siezed to register in my mind as I absorbed my existence with her perfection. Her white dress seemed like gold in contrast to the dry granite stone beneath her. She gently kissed my forehead without saying a word and vanished into the vacuum from which she came.
Day 3
What a bitch. Two days later and she had yet to return. Boredom pounded my skull like Chinese water torture. Mindless rote work had me feeling like a perpetual slave in the nine-to-five mentality. I sat practicing scales as I felt her presence engulf my senses. That sweet smell of beauty: perfection. The uselessness of my existence dropped its veil to reveal the truth of human nature. She sat on my bed and my perception of her filled my head with thoughts of ecstasy and exaltation for my life. Nearly an hour went by as I soaked in the ether of her existence. She possessed unexplainable beauty in an ugly world. Life is good. Life is fair. Life has meaning. Suddenly she vanished into the void from which she came and my roommate knocked on my door. My mom was on the phone. Motherfucker.
Day 8
Life sucks. Seriously, why are all the adjectives I use to describe my life negative in connotation? I climbed out of bed and began my normal morning routine. The amount of thought I expend during the day seems equivalent to that of a zombie attempting linear thought. Maybe I am a zombie? A melody popped into my head, and there she was; so beautiful, so lovely, so good-willed, such a high-spirit who aimed to please my every thought and desire. I stared into her gaze that seemed filled with life, and I felt a connectedness with my surroundings. I felt my world close in and my mind expand towards infinity. Everything I knew, hated, loved, cared about, or pondered seized to exist as I held her.
Fuck this; I’m calling into work and chasing my muse.
I sat on the front steps of my 4th street apartment lost in thought as usual. The day seemed rather dull as if the morning sun neglected to shine any color on the passer bys. Everything looked the same as always. Hookers were on the corner; cops drove by and did nothing about the crack dealers; the bitch next door was rambling on about her typical nonsense. Suddenly I felt a slight rise in the temperature and looked up to see an archetypal Greek goddess kneeling before me. All other stimuli siezed to register in my mind as I absorbed my existence with her perfection. Her white dress seemed like gold in contrast to the dry granite stone beneath her. She gently kissed my forehead without saying a word and vanished into the vacuum from which she came.
Day 3
What a bitch. Two days later and she had yet to return. Boredom pounded my skull like Chinese water torture. Mindless rote work had me feeling like a perpetual slave in the nine-to-five mentality. I sat practicing scales as I felt her presence engulf my senses. That sweet smell of beauty: perfection. The uselessness of my existence dropped its veil to reveal the truth of human nature. She sat on my bed and my perception of her filled my head with thoughts of ecstasy and exaltation for my life. Nearly an hour went by as I soaked in the ether of her existence. She possessed unexplainable beauty in an ugly world. Life is good. Life is fair. Life has meaning. Suddenly she vanished into the void from which she came and my roommate knocked on my door. My mom was on the phone. Motherfucker.
Day 8
Life sucks. Seriously, why are all the adjectives I use to describe my life negative in connotation? I climbed out of bed and began my normal morning routine. The amount of thought I expend during the day seems equivalent to that of a zombie attempting linear thought. Maybe I am a zombie? A melody popped into my head, and there she was; so beautiful, so lovely, so good-willed, such a high-spirit who aimed to please my every thought and desire. I stared into her gaze that seemed filled with life, and I felt a connectedness with my surroundings. I felt my world close in and my mind expand towards infinity. Everything I knew, hated, loved, cared about, or pondered seized to exist as I held her.
Fuck this; I’m calling into work and chasing my muse.