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Rated: GC · Fiction · Sci-fi · #1933951
Outer Times Issue #47 Fall 1955
It was so white there. All my mortal vision had ceased and evaporated into the sun. A sinking numbness soaked within me, the cold weightless host of flesh that used to be my nineteen-year-old body. Now just the lifeless mass of dead meat I was stuck in. I heard nothing at first being lost in my own thoughts of Auburn’s delicate skin and melancholy eyes. How the last I’d seen those fine eyes they were weeping. That’s the way I had left it, and this was to be my chance to find peace. I awoke that morning with her in mind. I walked my typical route through the neighborhood down the street of my familiar childhood. I gazed as the golden leaves fell from the trees, the autumn sky was setting into its dawn in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Into my blue sky I watched so serene, it all was passing by. One black bird was soaring through the seemingly endless majesty of air above. No sound just a single black bird floating in time. No sounds at all like ambiance though alarming, until the spurts of yelling broke through the empty spaces of silence.

From behind myself I heard the voice of man, calling out my name along with vulgarity. Confusion was my first re-action, I could not recognize this man. Before I could see or understand what was taking place a sonic boom paced into my head. I saw shattered lead heading into my eyes, exploding into fragments; filling the lids with blood until all I could see was red. A redness that was turning whiter each passing moment. He had shot me.

The sounds came to me soon enough, the endless booming and screaming repeatedly distorting itself in my subconscious. Booms that turned into bells as the screaming became faint and illusive, mixing into the swollen whisper of a little girl. Auburn.

My sweet Auburn’s smooth skin and hair like weather that’s fair and lost forever. I never remember feeling such splendor when enduring her lightest embrace. While hunting disclosure we stand a little closer, refusing the afterglow. Absolving our resolve with fortune as visionaries with deceptive desires, his immaculate uni-glory has fallen.

Sleep like death comes in waves of subconscious awareness, this can force the mind to react. For my poor dying brain I wept a dream. Screaming away from mass control, steaming towards endless possibilities. I was shocked and terrified.

The first of any major recurring experience has dramatic afterglows. Your first hit, first blow, first kill, interpreted through our senses. Death came to me as a taste. A taste well described as a wet metallic blood clot dissolving in your mouth. I tasted white and I saw white too.

Slip through the lines and kick from the barrel it was slipping away every moment, every constant. As dead blood fills my lungs I will breathe your name. I will pray to you, beloved Auburn.

Inside I waited, outside I assumed at this point in time sirens were wailing all around me. A circus of spectators speculating the meaning of life as they watched me die. But it was all drifting away. All their curious and judgmental eyes, all coming together as one, all leading me somewhere like a hallway.

Through the maze of eyes I wondered, following the pupil like Alice in the rabbit hole. I reached the lenses; I pass through the gelatinous barrier, the curtain between. I felt my soul leave my body.

I leave the illusion of identity and all earthly needs and struggles behind. Light as a feather and as lovely as weather, in Auburn’s dew rain to wash away the pain. An alarm clock goes off inside and I am free.

I float above and pierce the sky; I left my seven mortal sins and many of my senses beyond me. I knew I still had my sense of vision away from my body, the dead white eyes showed me that. And I still had the most important sense of them all, the sixth sense, the ability to think.

Stopped feeling, but I remembered that I felt, and I felt it all drift away. Truly alone, so light so white and so gone. Alone. No pain or fear, no rejoice. I felt the cold touch, the inevitable everlasting constant. Release and subside it is over, one man falls from the earth, one world falls from man.

The bright light beyond was not leading me towards, I kept still, I was held. Surrounded by the benevolent and beautiful bright dead lights. Floating weightlessly and without form or image. The essence of energy soaking through me. No matter, just existence, awareness.

I suppose this was when I was meant to flashback through my entire life. The moments between being alive and being dead are few, but like dreams those few moments can last forever. No memories none but Auburn.

Move across the earth with dreams of silence. Lifeless blood in the soil reflecting a timeless burden. The everlasting thirst for constancy, for that which will never concave. The body becomes a cedar box and our mind the universe. The timeless architect bears no heartache for the flowers fallen in his path. Rejoice for that which seems inevitable, for she will rise again.

The bright lights began to fade away as I drifted further. The sphere of light became an ember floating in darkness. It became distant and I began to see more spheres emerging; all the whiteness was gone. I had entered the vast sea of space. I could see images of the universe on all sides.

Floating space lost in the colors. A twilight of blue glimmering amber red glittering; spiraling and vibrating into a brilliant purple. Flying towards me and through me. Great balls of fire exploding only to send out smaller pieces of itself. Each piece keeping still and some go on burning; and some go out.

I had realized what I was seeing, life in all it’s splendor. Yellow balls of fire, cold blue space. The energy of the living and the energy of the dead. From this came the green life, this energy, in form of matter. Thus life but for me it was pointless. For I was neither living nor dead in my point of view. I was apart from this symbiotic cycle. I was alone watching from afar.

Once swept away and evermore removed, God’s lonely watcher. Unable to communicate with the life that surrounded me, all I could do was watch. All too soon I realized what it meant to mourn my demise. For a person who never embraced a life once lived, I certainly yearned for a world lost to me. My haphazardly view left me feeling empty.

As I saw the universe create and destroy itself, I could see the energy binding it all together. Little by little building more and more, and eventually destroying itself, this is progress. The land that followed the orbit, the desolate space beyond, the rain and the creation of little creatures. Simple. Intertwining in cosmic balance.

Communication between the simple life, soft tongues and singing. Believes and structures forming. Laws and order, kings and rulers. Churches and funerals. Songs and sex. Religion and fear. Dark ages. Isolation death. Blank space where something used to be. Nothing evermore.

Passing the time learning the nature of this behavior, whatever time meant now. As flesh will shed the universe is in a constant state of recycling, reprocessing itself. Temporary host of flesh, carryout the tasks of energy wherever they go. There individual choices not influencing the cycle of their patterns. Harmoniously combined with the position with the stars and the planet. Timeless, if history repeats itself, time is irrelevant. Even to the living.

Fascinated with the process, I extended my knowledge. I took closer view the nature in which the living transported the energy within their cells. How they reacted, and what free will meant? I wondered how much control we have over our actions, our bodies, and our governments.

So I searched the galaxy for more. Millenniums had pass; and I found nothing to comfort my existence. My being had no meaning for me. Life was trivia and nothing more. No companionship. The living and I seamed to have a one-way relationship, I’m laughing and crying with them; yet I remain alone.

I was overwhelmed with anxiety. A soul in space with no purpose as far as the mind could see. I felt the drive to accomplish goals, but no real direction. My attempt to belong has failed, as did my attempt to fulfill emptiness with knowledge. The more I learned the more isolated I became. I never knew love while alive, not really. I couldn’t learn to feel it alone out there, everywhere and nowhere.

I didn’t understand any of it and I was too tired. Isolated, exhausted, depressed, lonely, paranoid, vertigo, placebo, hallucinations. Cursed, damn you! I needed rest. I needed peace. I needed to find a place in the universe where compassion flourished.

Spark instance rushing to the blood. No cause no weakness fallen soft seven days passed. Remembrance saluted blood remains so easy to disguise. Come to contempt realized it’s false.

With retrospect I glance unto decades of winters passed. Alone I wondered with mistake in hand. I submit thee with stake in hand. I harden for truth for freedom in time weeps shallow. Cannot deny endless body bags, tagged on the toe for other past headlines. The ancient God forged in stone weakens the mind, It is now time.

Walking among the precious doomed in a faithless disguise I come to you. Release and subside effects of society a purple sky mourns. As the flowers burn and whither down a little girl smiles for the last time. There is nothing new everything is tragic. Under tears I have wept inside beauty.

A magic mirror horror show doesn’t want to touch me in the center. I come to you, I am illusion. A glimpse beyond as things pass connected through. There is nothing new.

Everything is magic. The object folded and smiled at me. Timeless burden of ageless souls, through the eyes the path is paved. The extraordinary few! With little things the path is destroyed; the architect bears no fear.

There is nothing new everything is beautiful! Bodies the earth mind the universe! I am a solar eclipse unscarred by beauty.

Mellow waters underneath a blanket of skies. Empty wanderers lost outside left behind. No ones sings I build a flame, nothing dies we’re all the same. Timeless journey hoping for a harvest disguise. Yellow learning fallen with the angels of time. I let it soar and I set sail; and I pretend that nothing binds.

Like man I wander, abandoned and bewildered. In the endless ocean, hiding in little pockets of air. I have become the bubble, and I will burst. Seething endlessly towards unknown goals, accomplishing what would matter most in a time between.

I am the ocean I am the sea, I am the bubble within this fantasy I cannot escape. The cold water contracts at my soul, soaking within the primal urge. The most beautiful and obscene.

This is the age where nothing binds, nothing dissolves and nothing is solved. There is nothing left, so there is nothing to fight for and no life to live. Mock my fate but this is your world dying for nothing, it is what you all want. The answers are there but you will not want them.

Universal truth within mass appeal you seek hallow shores, what has your country done to you. The only reason for you to be alive is they let you live. You will die alone with no more than what you accumulated. Fading away the bleakness with a timeless antidote. Nothing is here for me. I will stay here for you. I will fall for you.

I wanted refuge, somewhere within the dead planets. Living planets are hot centered, magma and stone. Dead planets however, are cold inside. Ice caves of crystals. The frost of death is where I belonged. I wonder how long I could go on denying this. Life and death are ultimately useless to me now.

Why should I care, they were rocks. Alive and hot, dead and cold; infinite repetition. People have said they once died and returned to their bodies. A benevolent white light so to speak. The bright shiny light of death. Like how the moon shines on their planets lighting history onto our worlds.

Is this what is to happen for me? Will I one day wake up in some hospital and have to explain to everyone what happened? As much as I wanted to live, the thought was too dreadful to bear. It has been an eternity since I inhaled oxygen into a set of lungs, I wouldn’t like the way it feels. I would give anything to be able to touch someone’s face, or to feel warmth. To kiss delicate lips or to taste an apple, the memories always hurt. My memories of life and love always bring to me pain, since I had defied both.

I was comforted after I died by the fact that I could explore the universe, like I was God’s special observer. In truth, I was just tired. Tired of being lonely and confused, of being scared and aloof. I really wanted it to all end. Non-existent!

I learned that life doesn’t make sense. Like the saying “life’s not fair” or “life’s tough all allover.” When there truly didn’t seem to be any justice in the entire galaxy. I’d seen so much of it in life and death. Stemmed from greed and motivated. No justice existed. Unlike common earthly media, there is much more to space than war. Very beautiful and touching. But it isn’t all glamorous. It wasn’t all civilized. And it all dies in vain.

The love I gradually found for life was making being dead all the more painful. Mostly I regretted the fact I never knew love while I was alive to express it. Most will say that when you die the pain is over. That life basically is hard and painful and then you die and are able then to rest. But the truth is, being dead is less fun than being alive. And when you die with regret, you will never land. Never sleep again.

Life is easy and painless, death is what really hurts. People are protected by their flesh, it is a curtain between worlds, and this world; I’d rather be in Hell. Hell, that’s something, this was nothing. Just a movie, just illusion, nothing mattered. Just like now.

Open face in the sand. The long wavy sand, forging into a heartless mass. Sinking deeper and deeper, the sand keeps me still. Vibrations in the ground, the beat. The steady beat, not marching but dancing. The chanting coming from the moon, I took it in too soon. It’s too late for me; night terrors.

Beating still into the sand, the feel of it moving along my body cold and weightless. In too deep I sang to myself, the chant. The beat is the pulse of the moon and I sang along. Feel the wind not pulling me away. Take me towards you my forbidden love. If sing under the sky, the stars will bring us home.

We will sing to you, beyond the horizon in broken tongues. It's all over the day we stop, we will sing to you. We are the dreamers, the keepers of time. Without our minds in fantasy reality would unmake itself. We were born for you.

We sing silent and alone. Always first to leave the group. Never quick to judge the world, we sing in solitude. We will slip with you into the calmness of death. We will sleep with you.

Keep still, we will feel it for you. Give peace, the pride is swollen, ego and doubt. Still, keep killing us. Keep silent; we will work it out for you. We are pure even in evil sojourns. Come with me, come with peace, victory within will give. Sew or sown, we will return. Sew or sewn, into thee, there’s no despair. Sleep, keep still.

The fire cracks I see again. The native man and boy chanting for me. Keeping the fire going. The beat and the chant vibrant, the Ohm of the universe keeping me here for you. Bringing me back home.

The native man tells me I’m not finished, the native boy tells me I am the Devil. At one with the night, they sing me into the sand. He tells me to never stop dying. He leads me away, into the dirt together and underneath.

He led me into the caves underground. The river below is blank and stormy. The boat is wood and metal. Come in the boat they say, it is safer here. We love you, come live with us.

The heart is no longer warm, the hands now cannot lift. The darkness wind has taken your last breath, but left you with the sight of god’s. Still straight tonight under the pillow, we cry alone. The best has left, we are the rest. Go straight to God, and straightens the abyss, begin the cancer. In Christ we see so much it hurts. His heart is warm, but his hands are cold.

Come play with me.

I never until this thought the dead could feel fear. But I was scared. I felt very insecure because I was belittled by the fact I was feeling pain (besides emotional). I thought I was above all of this, I already felt at the end of my rope, then this? I relaxed in a hope that it couldn’t get worse, but it did.

It felt as if needles with steamy red tips where pricking my entire body. I reversed my vision until all I saw was black. I was no longer in terrifying heat. I was surrounded by black frozen nothingness. Each direction I went blackness was all I saw. Still, in pain, and a sting from the cold, and agonizing over myself. No longer curious, I tried to leave.

I began off in whatever direction I was heading when I crashed into something, or, something stopped me. Like a mighty hand holding me back. I tried the opposite way and again I was blocked. I was confused even more so. I thought I could go through any matter. I thought I was transparent. I’ve moved through planets. Living planets are boiling. Dead planets are ice. Right?

Is that what had happened? Is that why I was burning one second and frozen the next, I thought. Then I realized that my analogy made no sense, but nothing did. Had I fallen into insanity? Is that possible? Are all dead people crazy?

I stopped trying to escape. I just floated with no ambition to move. I didn’t believe in myself to be able to accomplish anything. Not in life, not in death. If I had tried to move, I would only fail. And even though I assumed that weight and gravity no longer applied to me, I began to fall. I ask myself, had I ever really died?
© Copyright 2013 C.R. Gillie (crgillie at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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