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Reality is extinguishing;
remolding itself, leaving me puzzled
as to what is, what isn’t.
It’s all the same.
I feel, when up is over there, and down – somewhere,
that my mind is lost
along this road of nothingness and existence.
My forty winks being suppressed to open eyes,
my mind lacks the energy it is so used to.
It began the fourth night of my insomnia
while hanging out my window,
fire in hand,
I give life to my addiction and compress my life span.
My breath; a steady pale gray,
every inhale bringing me deeper, and deeper
into what seems not to be,
but is all the same.
The colorless clouds morph
with the intention of stabbing
at the realm of their surroundings.
It has convinced me.
I see what it wants to be.
Inspired by this strange perception
given from the cigarette,
I long for more simplicity,
a feeling, not an analyzation,
as things are when we are young.
My feet carry me past the back gated area,
past the field, over the petty bridge.
The trees, though I’ve grown, still tower over me,
shadowing my entirety.
I return to those youthful adventures
of searching through the forests
for something that will grasp my curiosity.
The nature awards me
with my new sense of its own awareness.
The wind itself appears more tangible
and the atmosphere more dimensional.
With no discrimination, I hold every atom,
every idea, and every entity
with alike compassion.
Oddly, I undergo infatuation with the scenery,
an instinct to shed my flirtatious character
upon the woodland shines.
Yet, it is lost when actuality thrusts into play.
Reality fears for loss of my sanity
and parallelly I still do not suffer from this thought.
I lie in the brush, arms spread
like wings of an eagle.
The earth refreshes my body,
replenishes my soul.
A flash of light, meets the flash of my life,
followed by a low grumble in the distance.
Seconds prevail into minutes,
and my face drips, as though it is melting
into the ground, into the madness
of my dreamlike surroundings.
Falling, deeper, farther, deeper.
However long after, I wake.
My body soaked from the foregoing shower.
Leaves sticking to my body,
I rise.
All truth restored,
exchanged with my body for the rest it needed.
Looking back at all we people know as truth
I ponder:
‘Is this reality?’

Very similar to what happened to me the other night

21 Mar 07

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