Waiting...2

2012-02-09T23:32:00.000-08:00

(6,200,871,183,192,934,984,000 and not stopping

In some other estranged ice Universe stands a stack of sealed boxes; each time I encounter another obstacle I ship it off in a little partridge package.

But every so often I can't quite cram whatever it is that's antagonizing me into a mildly sized box. In turn, this predicament only creates one more problem for me to solve and this tactic of running away ends up vexing me even more.

And even though the door from my dreams was the right one, I was brought to the wrong place.

Everything went right...I made it to 17th and turned the doorknob that somehow wasn't hot and down the long kaleidoscope hall with haste due to being chased by the heat that burned me to the bone in the 7 or 8 minutes the trek took. The nearing sun chased me down the hall to the aqua plasmic pool that I dove into.

My burns were cooled as I was handed another body. My eyes that were nearly entirely blinded from the exposure to the sun saw new colors, beyond the spectrum of the reality I once knew. One of them shone so profoundly to me it momentarily-by some cathartic force-put me in harmony with this life I've struggled with oh, so much.

My rapture ceased when a forest was placed in my path. It came so abruptly in the center of the intergalactic portal I was ascending through it scared and debilitated me.

I had never seen trees of the sort. In the leaves shown incandescent words and those words were the ones that I needed to proceed towards my desired Universe. One of the trees was split in half by a meteor or some form of space junk and I got a glimpse into the hydrochronology of this existence. However, there were far too many rings to count and they only distracted me.

Another distraction-a breeze of hues up and down the color collective-passed through the leaves of the trees and the answers I needed. It was beautiful but only aesthetic and I became inebriated in it as it took me away from what I really should've seen. Ultimately, it lead me to make my mistake as I put my stigma on those limbs.

The forest dissipated and I was left in darkness, it was a sign, telling me there was no more time to study. In the absence my question came. It wasn't audible, just a knowing. I didn't hear it but I understood it.

I remembered nothing from the trees, all I could think about was that "She is me. I am her". Someway it understood my answer and I was and taken here. I now wonder if maybe my destination was based upon need rather than what I want. It's too early for me to tell but so far I feel this is not what I wanted.

That's behind me, my poor sense of judgment is what brought me here and I've gotta deal. Immediately I felt, what I did was wrong. It's a knowing really, a feeling that I don't belong. The worst of it all is it's how I felt before I met her and again after I learned the hard way that we were all dying. I hoped a new place would bring about a change for myself. Or else I would've had died back there. I shook hands with that demon Death and already let my mortality set in.

There's going to be a great deal of things to get used to...for one, the time. As mentioned above there are no days, months or years here. There is no "after meridian" nor a "post midday". There is just a long count, a continuum of seconds that I guess began in the digital age and has been serving these people ever since. As communication has been difficult so far-I will explain why later-I have yet to really communicate with anyone as I am still an outsider/visitor, I'm not up on the exact measurement of time, but I have heard several slang references about it all:

Some people refer to the time by the billionth place, "I'll meet you at 6 and count". Other people go as far as the quadrillionth place, "I have to pick up X at 6, 800, 200." and for those nostalgic that remember when this new way of keeping time came to be, they go all the way from the sextillionth digit(seeing as it's in the 6) to the last of the hundredth. That may seem like a while for someone to live, but people live longer in this reality. Science seems to have really progressed, at least, compared to where I came from.

I still am not sure, but I'm lead to believe these people have survived the apocalypse that dinosaured my reality.

I'll also have to get used to the skies. As the day begins, it starts white and clear and eventually changes throughout the entire color spectrum, from white to red to orange to yellow to indigo to violet. Then, for what would be an hour's time where I'm used to, it's dark. Entirely, but there are so many artificial lights here you would never know.

With this limited darkness and immense light pollution, at least, in the Metropolis portion of this existence I'm currently staying in, I have yet to see any stars, other than the sun. I know they're here. They have to be. I'm still waiting to hear it fall and I know it's the link between here and where I'm from.

I would write about the weather, but she told me to never talk about the weather. It changes, just like anywhere else. There are bigger things to talk about.

They don't "talk" here. Much like the knowing and understanding I experienced in the intergalactic portal that brought me, there are no audible forms of communication. I have yet to really catch on, but people here simply understand one another. I've come to understand vision is vital to communication because whenever I "hear" what people are saying I am looking directly at them and momentarily they may look at me. Much like voices floating around, conversation here is just as ubiquitous, or it may even be more.

I find that if I close my eyes or even avoid any type of eye contact, everything is silent. It's both frightening and relieving. In the parks here I see people staring directly at trees or books or even just there arms. They must be experiencing this silence as well.

So, until I am able to reach out and until I am able to recover from my mistake I will continue as a guest. I've been without food and water for two days, or however days are counted here. Possibly the current terminology is two trillionths. I'm also still getting used to my new body. Something about this new reality made me sick; even though I hadn't anything to eat before I came here, when I arrived I became very sick. So I've been surviving, or however you look at it off of the putrid vomit smell on my sleeve. Whenever my stomach growls I take in the awful aroma of past sickness.

And while all of this may seem difficult, the part I'm struggling most with is the aforementioned conception that I don't really belong here. It's something internal, that I hoped starting anew would help me forget, but it's just as memorable as ever. Maybe I'm dwelling on it too much. Maybe I'll find her and she'll remove it all over again.

I've just yet to get a sense of her though. I've seen, or felt or maybe even "heard" rather, a good amount of the bodies I knew from previous realities. Most existences here are far from their counterparts as I've come to known them. It was a real seeing Andrew, someone I graduated with who had swastika bumper stickers walk out of a Synagogue. These are the types of radical opposites existing here. I almost approached him but that was shortly after I came here and started feeling ill. But, he looked Orthodox, sideburns and all and that should be an indicator of when to find him on the Sabbath, however they figure that is here.

The dark "hour" is coming and I'd like to get some rest. I hope to both find myself and find myself here. I hope I can write again. And find her, all over again.

If anyone finds this, forgive my intrusions.

-AJ"

Waiting to hear the fallen star(running title)

2012-01-26T01:08:00.000-08:00

The TV was now, only static fuzz; bleak remnants of what cable once was. And just an hour ago, if you could tune in, any channel you found, would've said the same thing. The end had begun as the world grew tired and the sky began falling, so it was required that you stay inside, to avoid the debris, of the falling stars, falling so aimlessly.

But if you were so, ever so daring, the sky granted ten minutes, ten minutes withstanding. Of the debris and the heat and the skies retreat, from the atmosphere that once covered, a planet now bleak.

And so A.J. he sat, as close to the window so bright, alone in his apartment, for the last night. An hour ago, he only had ten but as each second passed his time, it grew lapsed. And there is a door, he has seen in his dreams, that would take him away from the world he was seeing.

17th and PropelGate were the coordinates of the portal gate our hero would need to take in order to survive. And the window was bright, as the sun drew near and with this plight our hero's heart palleted fear. The sounds from outside, those horribly, ghastly sky cries, were drowned in the static, of the television that died.

And for this, our hero didn't mind, and just in case, he never made it out alive, and someone, somehow were able to survive, so his life wouldn't go in vain, in his journal he scribed with blood from his vein--

(June, 21st, The First Day of Summer

What a fitting day for the world to end. And what a time to not be able to find a pen.

It's a debilitating way to perceive all of this, but I know this day was made aware to me many years ago. On the night I saw the sky open and the star fall from out from the sky's wound. And ever since that evening I've been waiting, preparing for the noise that would come to follow such a descent.

It's also fitting that once I'm finally able to love and trust another person, it all gets cut short. I so badly wish she were here with me at at this moment, and we could witness the world crash together, but it is not meant for me in this reality.

I have been given an opportunity no other person dying right now, or maybe ever has had and I have to utilize it. I probably don't have much time, after writing this, but the streets are empty. That will help so much. Everything going right will help me so much.

I hope that door takes me where it did in my dream. I hope I'll be okay with myself on the other side. Both me, and myself.

I must end this, I'm running out of time and blood. And with loss of blood will come loss of energy, but I'll be replenished, over there.

Here's to the apocalypse, and finding her, all over again.

Hopefully I can write more later"

Ideas Once Hidden

Waiting...2

Waiting to hear the fallen star(running title)