Thursday, December 1, 2011

Even life looks small from higher up...


Surreal, yet alarmingly real at the same time. Fake, but with roots so deeply embedded in reality that the difference becomes a thin, unnoticeable line. Forward through the tragedies of the past and held still at the thought of future conquests, the deepest trenches of the soul becomes a place where existence meets perception, and the two endlessly battle over control of the perceiving’s motives. This battle inevitably creates all questions, and formulates all answers. Without it, no information could be digestible on a level necessary to interact with a constantly changing environment. This battle is adaptation itself.
But how could one possibly go about witnessing the birth of ideas and opinions; of fears and desires? Would it be beautiful, or would it be terrifying? The possibilities of this incredible feat are limitless, describing to a T the mental and physical workings of the human thought processes. But what could you possibly have to fear by looking deep inside yourself? The only acceptable answer is uncovering information or answers that you don’t want to find. Seeing things that you don’t want to see, or hearing things that you don’t want to hear. Is the possibility of beautiful resolve worth the possibility of grotesque horror?
It is from this note, and from this subject, that the story about to be told emerges. Out from the depths of the darkest corners of perception, appears a world of infinite possibility and endless imagination. Only in the world of our dreams can the light of our reality truly shine. 

Chapter One: The Great Sea Consumes

Crashing after a night of countless crashing, the waves of the Great Northern Sea mercilessly attack the rocky shoreline as a brilliant morning sun lights up the cloudless sky. Lighting up the world that is forming slowly beneath it, the Sun begins it’s ascent to the top of the proverbial daily ladder. Life takes form around the glistening landscape, as all means of consciousness begin to interact with the morbidly unconscious world. The snow-capped mountains of the far-east come into view, towering over the green, flat plains currently being resided in by myself. The enormous volcanoes to the west continue the ancient process of unpredictable fluctuation between activity and inactivity.
The world, as a whole, is calm.
    Slowly floating in over this docile scene, clouds take control of the neutral middle land between the Earth and the perpetual imagination of the world above. The oldest story of impossible love; the sky and the earth stand forever apart while all the day’s exciting happenings happen in between.
    Broken by the unmanageable impossibility of the collision of the Earth and the Sky, the delicate nature of the clouds erupt into a fantastic storm of powerful lighting and booming thunder. The very force keeping this world alive rains down from the wicked gray clouds.
    Carrying the serenely beautiful world into nighttime, the mighty storm dissipated over the Great Northern Sea, allowing for the moon and the stars to illuminate this looming darkness, if not only for a second.
    And one by one, the stars plummet to the bottom of the infinite depths of open sea. 

    Chapter 2: Awake, Dreamer

    Pushing his head deeper into the confounds of his pillow, John awoke in discontent. After a night of nothing but what seemed to be nonstop repeats of the same eerily vague dream, he wanted nothing more than to close his mind to the outside world and once again adopt a mindset of blissful nothing.
    But John knew this was not possible. Wiping the sleepiness from his closed eyes, he prepared for the day ahead of him. Filled with quiet reflection of life and style, he contemplated how to begin his daily duties as a shepherd. The entire herd depended on him for survival; without him, they were nothing more than a group of disassociated wild animals. Sharing a deep relationship of dependency for survival, John acknowledged that he needed his sheep as much as they needed him. After all, what good is a shepherd without his sheep?

Chapter ?: Enter Inevitability

“Don’t worry”, John said quietly. “It’ll all be over soon.” Lying before him, the bleeding sheep quivered and bleated in fear, being just as afraid of death as any creature before him had been. His whole peaceful existence had been shattered; crushed under the weight of nonviolence. As the sheep’s condition fell deeper and deeper into the pit of helplessness, John knew of nothing to do but to cry. He had done all he could to prolong the poor sheep’s life; to prolong the suffering. But no longer could any progress be made. Death had become unavoidable. His face, now the bed of a river of tears, flushed red with the tantalizing thought of revenge. Anger and hatred filled his once joyful body, as the entire herd minus one prepared for the anguish accompanying the lost sheep.
Lit up by the morning sun, the foggy countryside flourished beautifully with life and death. John couldn’t help but scowl at the horrible irony of the world around him; how a creature filled with so much love could be killed in such a beautiful setting by so much hate. With all sense of order and structure lost from his spotless mind, the day moved on.

*Note to Ms. Kennett: I'm purposefully having fun with my story's timeline. Eventually it will become more structured, but right now I'm working on creating circles (logically) as well as foreshadowing the future of the book in ways that are only slightly definitively analyzable. *

1 comment:

  1. This blog is amazing Will. I can't wait to read your story when it's complete. I like how you leave the reader with a lot of questions the way you introduce the book. The word choice was amazing as well. The blog looks like a professional author wrote it. How you introduced your character John was really interesting too and it made me wonder who he is and why he is in the situation he is in. I have no real suggestions for you. I can't wait to read more about it.