Sublimity

It’s something like seeing a skyscraper

Or grey chunks of cotton candy clouds

A cat walking alone at night, silhouetted by the orange glow of the streetlight, darkened by the tint of car window

A drop of sleep is all it takes to get the paint running.

On the bleached white canvas of dreams and echoes and mirrors and bright computer screens in the dark of 2 AM a figure emerged

Abstract and indefinable

At first it was blue

Soft, soft, subtle baby blues

Then it was a tune

The one you can’t get out of your head for weeks but you’ll never remember the actual lyrics to

And then it’s a light push

Off

The

Edge

.

.

.
And in falling having fallen

You might find yourself falling in love

Even as you drown

You wake up in a familiar place

Maybe the most familiar place you’ve ever been, even though you’ll swear you’ve never seen the endless winding shelf of books.

You walk

You walk for five minutes

Ten minutes

One hour

You’re not tired or anything of course, but surely it gets boring after a bit

So you take a look to your left. Right at the bookcase, you decide “Why not?” and pick a book off the shelf. To your surprise you are completely familiar with the contents!

Every book you pick up and out you flip through and it’s all the same. You know every book cover to cover! It’s all so outstanding to you…

…then again you did write them all

In your new found discovery you remember that you are still trapped in this never-ending bookcase and mindlessly chuck one overboard just to test how deep it is

It never makes a sound

You forget what you were looking for

But you remember that you were looking for something

One step forward two steps back

Ten steps forward and you find yourself falling

Falling

Falling

.

.

.

Falling again

But when does it all end you might say

When do the rows and rows and rows and rows of books end?

You take a seat next to the chubby little bear on the moon with you and ask

    -           You know what the problem with dreams is?

You ponder silently as you gaze at the yellow orange stars, completely unsurprised as the bear responds

    -                  Problems, plural. Dreams are nothing but trouble

You may even find the remark endearing.

Somehow the words line up single file perfectly in your mouth and fly like birds into the perfect white of space.
     
    -          Don’t say that. Dreams are… outstanding. Beautiful. All I feel for them is pure awestruck wonder! Surely dreams are a blessing. A wonderful gift from God Himself!

Continue

    -                    A gateway to mind. To everything you can’t see. You can experience the most extreme of fantasies, and the emotions… the emotions are all real! No matter how good or bad, even if it’s a horrible nightmare… I’ve never woken up in the middle of a dream… and not wanted to go back and finish it!

You stretch for a bit, maybe feel a bit unsettled by your strange choice of words, but you’re not done quite yet.

    -           The problem with dreams is that you forget. You can have the most amazing dream of your life and never remember and…

    -           And?

    -                  I don’t want that.

The bear doesn’t protest when you pick him up and hug him.

    -           I want to take those emotions and bring them out! I want them real! I want to think, feel, touch, see, I want to free-fall into the deepest depths of my heart… and remember

A beat

    -           …but not for people. I’m tired of trying to please people, and trust me; I’ve spent my whole life trying. Maybe for once, I can do something else? And then… I’ll be happy

But then it hits you

Like a snowball to the face

You look around

Look for something

    -           My book… Where did it go? I remember having it just now

The bear is more helpful. He hands you a net and tells you to catch it before it gets away.

You make a mad dash for the other side of the moon

Hoping to catch your book with the… net?

And then you see it

Butterflies

A swarm of them

Even though you know you’ll never be able to catch them all you leap out and a few find their way into your net

But you don’t have time to revel in your victory as you tumble off the edge of the moon and out into space

Falling

Again

It’s nothing new anymore so you hold on to the net

And drift slowly down as butterflies push up from the net and soften your fall

Don’t ever let them go; take care of them, their friends will come back for them

But you’ve found it now

A glimpse of that thing you were looking for

Quickly you tell the waiter that you’ll be having what he’s having and mumble something about the bathroom to your friend.

It’s hard to run in heels

And the hedge maze gets confusing after the fifteenth turn

But every so often you catch a bit of that whatever it is and decide it’s worth it

A little mantra getting louder and louder as it pours from your lips

Choked up with each wearying step

Round the corner and right back where you started from

That menu had nothing on it

You forget that you’re not sweating and pick up the pace

You’ve got “it” cornered

You know

You just know

And

Its right there

Staring

Staring at you

It’s a mirror



Of all the words I’ve ever heard

Spun like silk

Woven to last

The eerie ring like bells, and the books

Piles of colourless books

Nothing hit me as hard as

“And then what happened?”



You wake up in a pile of unfinished papers

The coffee’s gone cold and stale

The clock says 1:00 PM and you thank God your mom’s out of town today

The laptop ran out of battery 3 hours ago

But the radio’s still running

You forget why you still own that piece of garbage

Scritchy from static like rocky road ice cream, is that song you had stuck in your head for the past few days

If love was a question/ is maybe a lie?

There’s half a reply in your head

And blue

Soft, soft subtle baby blues