Of These Passing Stars; Part I

 

     I sat on the grass and watched cars race on by. One by one they abandoned me without a single glance. The forgotten world surrounded me. It wasn’t a jungle where I’d be lost but a lawn in the middle of a city.

     “In a jungle I could fade away like I was never there. Here is a prison made out of good intentions, Hell. Nothing monotheistic or polytheistic just what it is. No words or actions could ever break the bars made from what we thought was best. But I am the one who is wrong for sitting here doing nothing. A devil that never tortures himself or others because he believes in more.” I amused the thought under my breath ever so cynically.

     The world reached towards a light. Gravity dragging it towards the fiery ball of gas that gave life. The Groves of Heaven revolving around the Gate of Hell. Aren’t they similar in ways undefined? Lines plotted on a graph are still lines and they’ll intersect eventually. If only they were parallel instead.

     Every other human listened to what they were told and so they are destined to drive away. My heart dropped through my chest because I long to forget what I’ve grown to know and join them. We were cut from different cloth. Why do I know if we were angels I’d be one of the fallen? They went to perform holy duties while I remained here like a stone. Forgotten.

     I decided to dedicate my life towards my writing. The beauty others passed by I must see. Life’s choices dictated the routes we would take leading us through days, weeks, months, years. Judgment passed between the lips of angels eternally damning each other. Why do these good intentions mark us as traitors?

     Choices, the true difference that divided us from fables. Raised in an advancing technological era all we have are choices. These choices turned into an endless ocean. The choice handed to us is an oar to help us navigate the journey. We created an odyssey that would leave Homer speechless.

     The journey I departed has left me with many enemies. Gods, monsters, men, nymphs, and myself deceived me. Humans I extrapolated into something extravagant. A story required characters I have seen and known. I captured their souls in my mind as if they were demons and my mind was Pandora’s Box.

     Created poems and stories from what lays before me. The inspiration dripped from existence like water from an icicle. Alternate states of matter displayed before watching eyes. I devoted my life to the miracle of life instead of wealth and society. Most people scrutinized my life without understanding that I am different.

     My life never hinged on them but every day I watched them live their lives. Sometimes we walked into a ring where we fight but I understood why all along. The choices we made defined the lines and now we finally intersected.

Life will never wait for us.
sa;bdry

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