Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Beauty In Wasted Time

He has rebuilt his barricade. One that will now stand the test of time however, it now stands bold and strong, and for that, he doesn’t know what to say to nice women anymore…

We were so tired by the day’s end but we’d still conjure up some kind of mystical or impulsive stamina, even when there was seemingly nothing left, to push to the city’s beach front to watch and interactively become one with the fiery purple hues of the sunset. There is always this sense of awkwardness within the first few days but I would let the weariness direct its own path to the intimacy that we both craved from each other as we sat in the sand against an old tree in harmony. I would rest my back against the base of the tree and would benevolently pull her close to my chest for a better view of the eastern horizon as we quietly forgave the world, and as another twilight evening serenely rolled by. This was perfect. This was The Great Gatsby level of any relationship. The part where you’re reminded of how simple a complex emotion could feel and for an instant, for just a flash of a short period, nothing else is important and your primordial adornment washes over you in an awesome wave. It’s when the exchange of energy between two human beings is impenetrable and absolute down to the shear quantum physicality’s of it and right then, right at that very moment, you feel the illumination of all existence. The progressiveness towards love, if you will. I remember the soft and gentle impressions of my nose and cheek against her shy facial skin as she would then close her eyes in complete comfort squeezing my hands ever so affectionately. I felt as if I could just drift off with her in my arms, with this sympathetic sunset, the whole of the present “reality” immortalized and timeless. It was always my favorite time to kiss her and I never wanted to stop. I’ve never felt happier then when I was with her, and I wanted to be with her forever and disassociate from everything; the two of us driving at top speed on some two-lane abandoned super highway into the scorching fireball that we all call the sun, lost, in all of this aspiration of a dream.

Next, he will build an elaborate moat laid out in concentric circles that will shroud his barricade. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out…

2 comments:

veraicon reality said...

perfect: we can share architectural plans? no?

Blue Heeler said...

have we not already?