NOW

I'm on the balcony listening to some very expressionistic music, I like to watch myself die every now and then. The look on my face is peaceful and that comforts me. I do a quick back and forth between that moment and running through the moist lawn in front of my old house when I was just a child. It still makes me grin when I see my stubby, little legs run as fast as they can with that blissful smile on my face right before I trip and fall into the soft bed of wet grass blades. If only every moment were as defining as these two.

I sigh heavily and stand up out of my chair, grabbing the cold, black metal railing for support. I lean over it and glance around at the scenery in small hopes that there might be something interesting to temporarily steal my attention. There are a few birds and a squirrel hopping along the power poles. What it would be like to be either of them, to see with such small eyes and only live to fill a few, basic desires. Sure, the gift of sentience is a precious one, but every now and then I can't help but be bothered by it. How much easier would it be if all I had to do was eat, sleep, reproduce, and live to see another day? I ponder the question and the ironic parallels to my life currently.

After growing tired of the circular logic, I grab my coffee and walk back inside. It's either too late at night or too early in the morning depending on how you like to perceive the day. With my work schedule the way it is, I've become well acquainted with this eerie, silent twilight -- too late for the party crowd to still be conscious and too early for the nine-to-fivers to start their hustle and bustle. I robotically move the coffee cup up to my lips and take another sip; I should've realized that it had gone cold by now, but I assume part of me didn't care.

Down in the apartment garage, I hear the breaking echo of my car horn as I unlock it. The familiar musk of aging interior upholstery sends me to my days in high school; instantly, I'm in the back seat with the first girl whose shirt I ever got up. My hands feel her soft breasts and her eyes venture deep into my thoughts and desires. The sound of the engine starting snaps me back to the front seat and I exhale a soft breath of longing that I didn't know I was holding. The drive to work is empty and mundane, no one on the roads at this hour. I swing by the one coffee shop I know is open and grab a Shot in the Dark from a teenager who looks as far away as the memory I felt in the garage.

I decide to project through my day and see what uninteresting events will unfold, I'm not in the mood for surprises today. We'll get another big order in and Lois will go on about how her son won his soccer game yesterday; Nathan will insist that we get reports compiled for our individual projects and that we should stop projecting our days so we have a little excitement and mystery to look forward to. I laugh to myself about the irony of his statement, not projecting so we have something to look forward to. He will recommend we all try the product, he swears by it. I, on the other hand, think it's unnatural; why would you want to give up your sense of time? Plus, it always gives me a wicked headache. Nathan always asks us, "Would you buy a product from someone who didn't use it themselves?" I know a pregnancy test works, but I don't ask the store clerk to piss on it to prove it to me. Ass.

I spin in my swivel chair and think about the time I projected to my wedding day, thinking this of course throws me right into that tux; I can smell all the wet, fresh-cut roses and lilies -- they're her favorite -- around me while my groomsmen are pretending to know how to make me look good.

"Tighten your belt up a bit, dude." Taylor points out.

"Yeah, and straighten your tie, it's all jacked up." Suggests John.

"Shut up, you said that 5 minutes ago when I adjusted it last." I take a step back, straighten my hair, and look in the full body mirror with them behind me, "Do I look good?"

"Yeah."

"Totally."

"Perfect."

"Nice ass."

"Shut up, Taylor." I smirk. "Good enough to marry?"

"Mehhhh."

"Welll.."

"Ah, go to hell, all of you." I straighten my tie when John looks away and take one last big breath. "Alright, let's do this." The wedding music floods my ears as the ushers open up the door to the outdoor reception hall; it's beautiful, classical music echoing off of the tall, majestic pines that line the perimeter. There are blood red, gold, and ivory ribbons draped from Venetian columns on the outside of the rows of chairs; all the faces of the people are aimed back at me. My memory only recalls some of them, others I haven't met yet, but apparently will play large enough of a role in my life that I will invite them to my own wedding. As I walk to the front where the Bishop is standing, I see my mother sitting there, gorgeous as always; it's as though she has some mystical field around her that wards off the clutching hands of Father Time. My dad has passed away by this time, but I still feel him there.

I stand and wait, as anxious as the whole of the audience combined, and then, there she is, like a candle floating through a window and illuminating the room. Her steps seem so light, they wouldn't even crush the soft pedals the flower girl is sprinkling in front of her. With each step she takes, my breath gets shorter and shorter and shorter. There is music pounding in my brain, symphonies and oceans crashing up against either side of my head. She never takes her eyes off me, as though I am the only other person there, as though we could be two children in a forest pretending to get married under a tree that we've drawn a bishop on and it would be the same, as though I am the only thing in the whole universe she cares for and everything else could turn to dust, but this moment, that we share, this tiny, rapturous moment is ours and no one can take it from us.

Everything the bishop says is a blur as I stare at her, and then, "Do you James Anderson, take..."

And that's where I stop. I don't want to know her name; I know if I do, then I'll jerk every time I hear someone say it in a coffee shop, every time an order goes up in a fast food restaurant, every time a patient is called in a waiting room. I just can't handle that. It's bad enough that I already know what her face looks like; if I ever see it, I'm going to run as fast as I can away from it. I can't do that. I just can't.

"James. ...JAMES!" Nathan shouts.

"What? God, you don't have to yell. I was..."

"You were... what? Projecting again?" He scoffs. "We can't keep going over this, James, I'm making you take the pill. We have big shipment coming in today and you know I need those reports." He pauses as I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "That goes for you too, Lois."

"Damn." Lois whispers.

"Alright, fine, I'll take the stupid pills." I concede, it's no use arguing with him about this.

"They're not stupid. They're efficient, they help you get things done," he's doing his sales-pitch thing to me again, I hate it so bad, "you don't spend all your time living in the past or the future, you spend it right HERE and right NOW!" He stamps on the floor and looks at me with a very serious face. I return his stare with a look that says, "Are we done here?" He hands me the pills, I take two and choke them down with my luke-warm coffee. "It'll give you something to look forward to." I swivel back around to my desk and start thinking of where to begin.

"Ahem?..." I swivel back around to find Nathan still standing there. "Tongue..." For a second I'm confused, then, when I realize what he wants me to do, I feel as ridiculous as a child who doesn't want to take their vitamins. "Tongue!" I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out, making a depressing "Ahhh" sound while doing so. "Good. Back to work then." He exclaims as he walks off. "That means no more games Lois!"

Lois closes out her Solitaire game. "Damn"

At 6 AM we get our big shipment. The draft of the morning air comes down the hall from the warehouse and makes my feet cold. "If this product's selling as well as we say it is, you'd think we could afford a better heating system." I joke semi-sarcastically. Lois giggles a little bit then starts to talk about her son's soccer game. Go Tommy. Hooray. And so on. And so on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day drifts by and I yawn as I try to contemplate what I did in the day, but the drugs have made everything fuzzy. "Let's see I... Lois, did I get my reports done?"

"Yep, sure did. And you also told Nate where he can stick 'em when you gave 'em to him. Are you just having one of those days?" Lois asks kindly.

"Must be. It's just every time I take those things..."

"Mm, say no more, I know the feeling. That's why I just keep to myself and play my solitaire." She turns back around as I'm stroking my temples and trying to think about what I will eat for my lunch/dinner when I get home, but nothing comes, it just hurts my head more, like there's someone trying to push a screwdriver through the front of my skull. The clock reads 1:32 PM.

"I know it's not 2, but I'm getting outta here. I'll see you tomorrow." I say as I stand up and grab my coat.

"No you won't. Tomorrow's Fridee." She replies, it catches me that she always says 'Fridee' instead of 'Friday.' God, that's annoying.

"Well, in either case, see you next time we're both here. Enjoy yourself." I give a lazy wave as I shuffle down the hall. I nod to the old security guard as I exit the building; who the hell is he gonna protect if someone ever tries to rob us? HA! I laugh to myself at the mental imagery of Bruce standing there all wobbly with his gun pointed at the burglar, he'd probably collapse of a heart attack before the thief could get a shot off. He's probably looked ahead and seen that nothing's going to happen to him so he feels safe, but how good is that? To know that nothing is ever going to happen to you?

The afternoon air is crisp and cool, I tuck my neck and chin into my coat as I approach my car. The sun has heated the steering wheel and seat which feels nice. I turn on the radio and listen to what is now being called "Classics" which is ridiculous to me. "I remember when this song came OUT! Tsh! I was a senior in high school. That was only... Well, I guess it has been a while."

On my way home, I drive past the park where I will supposedly meet the woman I'm going to marry one day. I usually jump right to that first encounter, but the drugs are blocking it out. Somehow I'm able to at least envision the scene; it's summertime and the park's grass is glowing fluorescent green from the strong sunlight; everything is bright like when you first open your eyes in the morning. I remember deciding to make the most of this day and go running. A few more details drift up, I'm making a few laps around the park and nodding at the people running faster than me; I'm not the best runner and I'm content with that. I remember children playing on the brightly-colored jungle-gym, they're giggling and smiling and squirting each other with water guns; it puts a smile on my face and for what feels like the first time in a long time, I'm content with the world. In an instant, I'm jerked through the fuzziness and into the scene.

I decide to take a water break when I finish the lap, seeing all those streams of water made me extremely thirsty. I go to grab the knob that controls the water spout, but then I see her reaching for it too and stop.

"Oh no, you go ahead." We say in unison, then pause, then laugh.

"No really, you go ahead, I'll hold it for you." I say, trying to be chivalrous. She pulls her long, brown hair aside and positions her delicate cherry lips close to the fountain, I catch myself staring at them and not turning the knob so I quickly turn it and a hard stream squirts right up her nose and hits her eyes. She starts to squeal and put her hands out in front of her. I let go of the knob as though it were hot iron. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I shout, feeling like I had just spilled ink on a priceless painting. She stands there for a second flicking the water off her hands and wiping it off her face. Then she looks at me, and I remember those eyes, though I haven't seem them yet, I remember them.

"Oh you will be." She says, grabbing the bucket that had been placed under a leaky pipe by the fountain and was full of mud and cigarette butts. I don't even have time to process her statement before she starts chasing me and I start running away.

"Don't do it, that's GROSS!" I scream.

"This is the only fair thing to do! Quit running away like a girl!!" She yells back. I criss-cross across the park, dodging small children, jumping over soccer balls, and ninja-spinning around family pets until I hit a wet spot and fall right into the wet grass blades. I look up in terror as she smiles and pours the whole thing all over my chest. "There, now we're even." She says with finality. I grab her foot from under her and bring her crashing down to the soft grass then slide up next her and look into her inquisitively. Before I can say anything, she kisses me gently, quickly. "No, now we're even." She says with a sly smile. And for an instant, it's like we're the only two people in the park, the only two people in the whole universe, and the only thing that matters is that we have this moment.

"Who are you?" I ask in awe.

"I'm me, but that probably doesn't mean much to you. If you're asking what my name is, it's..."

I click the garage door opener as I pull into my apartment complex, it's amazing that I'm able to project with that stuff still in my system, let alone drive all the way home while projecting, that's a skill that requires practice.

My head is throbbing as I climb the stairs to 6th floor. I just want to get to my apartment and take a nap. I haven't slept in days and my body is definitely reminding me of it. I throw my jacket onto one of the 4 chairs around my dinner table that rarely ever gets used then throw myself onto the couch. For some reason, though I can't explain it, I always sleep better when I'm on the couch. Of course, I typically spend most nights in my bed because that's normal, but if I ever need a good nap, the couch is the place to be.

I stare up at the dark ceiling, the blinds are closed, they're always closed. I wonder what I will dream about, that's the one thing I can never project, that I don't need stupid pills for. My eyelids feel swollen and heavy so I allow them to close. Now it's just me and you, thoughts. I let myself sink into the couch and dissipate into the dreamwaters where everything is calm. There is no light, but there is no need for light. There is no sound but I know what everything is trying to say. My dreambody steps out of the water and is dry. I'm met with a tree that is perfectly symmetrical on all four sides, four main branches coming out of the large trunk and splitting in the same places on each one. There are golden apples hanging strategically throughout the tree, there are thin, yellow snakes with vicious fangs swirling around the largest apples, snapping and hissing in unison. The ground is cracked and grey like cold ash and feels gentle on my feet.

I want an apple, I'm starving, but I know that if I grab a small one, even a few small ones, it will not be enough. I have to outwit the snake. I circle around the tree to see if I can find a weak spot, but they're all the same, all watching me with their wicked, black pearl eyes. I walk close to the tree and feel its trunk, it's cold and feels like hard plastic; if I pull away at the bark, it falls off on all four sides. I figure that if I knock down one of the big apples, all four will come down and the snakes will have to break their unison to try an attack me. I break off a low-hanging branch and swing at the apple. The snakes hiss at me as a stern warning. I swing again at the apple and connect, all four of them fly in the exact same line down to the ground, all four snakes look at me as though I had just broken an ancient artifact. When the apple touches the ground, I am suddenly split into four me's, one in each corner, all moving in unison. We are all aware of each other and feel the same panic as the clever snake approaches; it knew this would happen. My first thought is to run away, but to where? I'm on an island and if I go in the water it will just catch up with me quicker. The fear of the being by the snake builds as it slithers toward me and I slowly back away. Then something very strange happens, my mind loses all fear and I see no point in running away and being bitten when I can just a easily jump toward it and share my last moments devouring the delicious apple. I snap and make a lunge toward the apple, grasping it with both arms and plunging my teeth into its tender, golden skin. The amber juices drip down the sides of my mouth as I moan and ravenously chew the fluorescent yellow flesh. The snake is temporarily stunned at my behavior, then shakes off its hesitation and takes equal pleasure in sinking its fangs into my bare shoulder blade. Go ahead snake, enjoy yourself, you'll get a good meal out of me.

I feel as though someone is shoving cotton in my ears and the silence I heard before is now muffled. My lips go cold but I continue to bite. My finger tips go numb but continue to grasp. My vision goes dark but there is nothing left to see. I feel as though I am on a giant blanket and the center is sinking rapidly under my weight. I am a falling kite. I am a pebble on the water. Several moments pass and then there is a sudden tightening of the blanket that held me and my speed forces me to rip right through it. There is vertigo, there is confusion, then, there is light. I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. The wind is knocked out of me and it takes me a second to catch my breath. I sit up and try to get my bearings, I am on a narrow mountain road at nighttime. My eyes squint at the light that is now very close and very intense. I am able to quickly glimpse at the source and am instantly paralyzed.

"NO!!!"

I see her. Her eyes find mine and utter terror consumes her face. Time slows to the deadliest crawl. I am once again a frozen witness to this scene. She turns to see our 2 year old daughter in the car seat behind her. My hearts sinks. She turns back to me. Her body remains still, but I see her soul stretch out to me. She extends her hand and I reach out mine, she's crying. My god, why? Why does she have to die this way? Our fingers don't quite touch before she is pulled back in and she swerves to the right, sending the car careening out of control. It's skids hard and spins halfway around before hitting the railing and flipping over the edge.

"NOOOO!!!!! GOD DAMMIT!!!!!" I scream. I shiver. I gasp. I choke. "NOOOOO!!!! PLEASE!!" I collapse. Why this? Why do I always have to see this? I never should have looked this far. Everyone told me to stay close, I might not like what I see. Damn them. Of course I wouldn't listen. Damn everything.

I awake and I'm still crying, my pillow is damp with tears. What a bizarre dream. I try to shake it off, but it's no use. Whenever I see her die, the rest of my day is useless. I decide to make myself some coffee and go sit out on the porch. I've gone and slept through the whole day and now it's evening again. How did that dream take so long?

I get to see the sunset over the distant mountains, the clouds and lake are burning crimson and tangerine. Their glow ignites something in me and I think about what I did in my dream. Why did I not run away? Is my true nature to go after what I desire even if I know it's going to end in tragedy?

"Hmmm." I ponder to myself as the hot steam of my coffee kisses my nose and floats up past my eyes. I turn on some calm, expressionistic music and sink further into my chair and thoughts. Maybe tomorrow I will go to the park for a run. Maybe.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I

    I gave birth to myself 15 years ago. I have raised myself since i was a baby. I keep telling myself that there are some things I need to explain to me; I keep telling myself that it's time i start becoming a man. I often think that I don't understand myself very well.

                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    i'm sitting on the couch when I come in the room and sit next to me.

    "Anything good happen today?" I ask.

    "Does it ever?" i reply. I sit next to myself for a couple minutes in silence before I grab the remote and turn off the television. i hate when I do that.

    "I need to tell myself something." I finally say after an uncomfortable silence.

    "I keep saying that but I never actually say it." i get really frustrated because this keeps happening; i don't know what is so difficult to say that I keep starting to say it but never finish.

    "It's.. It's just..." I pause and look at myself to gauge my mood. "Difficult to explain, alright?"

    "i think i know what I'm trying to say, others at school have been talking about it." i say, trying to alleviate My obvious anxiety.

    "WHAT?!" I exclaim. "No one is supposed to talk about their connection to any other!"

    "Don't freak out, they didn't say much... just that i and Me are somehow the same." i don't know why this made Me so upset.

    "Well.. yeah. It's kind of like that. It's just, they weren't supposed to be the ones to tell me; I was."

    "i didn't know. i just got tired of Me almost talking about it and then stopping before really explaining it. It's really frustrating."

    "I'm sorry... I was just never told and had to find out about the connection by Myself. I promised Myself that I would never do that to me so that i wouldn't have to go through the pain of wondering why I wasn't told. But when I tried to tell me, I didn't know how because no one ever explained it to Me." I stare at myself for a couple seconds so that I understand how i'm feeling. "I am me. That might be hard to fully understand... I gave birth to me with my body and mind. Now I am in both places, both bodies, both minds. The older I am, the less I am in one and the more I am in the other. i will only be whole when I die and i will only be alone long enough to have a fair amount of experiences that would be beneficial to me before i give birth to Myself again."

    i looked dumbfounded.

    "I know, it's very hard to understand. I'm trying to make it easier for me now than it was for Me when I found out. I had so many more questions, especially why I wasn't around to tell Me. Did that mean that I was a First? There hasn't been a First in hundreds of years and I most definitely don't feel wise enough to be a First. Was I abandoned? Was I too afraid to take care of Myself so I just left Myself to die or struggle My whole life? It was extremely difficult and emotional for Me, but I pulled through and I'm stronger today because of it. I think that might be the reason I did it, actually."

    i sat there looking shocked and speechless. "Wh.. but how?.. That doesn't make any sense. How can i be the same as Me? We're entirely different. i don't feel connected to Me at all."

    "i don't feel connected to Me at all?" I asked, feeling devastated.

    "Well, not really. At least i don't think so." i tried to wrap the idea around my head for a minute. "But why? Why do We give birth to Ourselves? Why do We raise Ourselves? Why are We never complete until we're dead? It doesn't make any sense!"

    "That's just the way it is. That's the way it's always been. If We didn't take care for Ourselves, then there would be no way We could survive, no way for Us to learn what it means to love and be loved, to nourish and be nourished. There is no other way."

    "Why can't We just be alone?" i asked. "Why can't We just be constantly learning and experiencing and benefiting ourselves?"

    "What good would that do Us? If We were the only one who benefited from our knowledge, our mistakes, our experiences, our love, our loss, our pain, our EVERYTHING, then all of that would die with Us. This way We can pass all of those along to Ourselves when We die. This way We continually benefit from our experiences."
  
    "But..." i was getting increasingly frustrated. "What if i don't want to make another Me? What if i want to be the only me and just be by myself?"

    "i can't do that. If i did, then I would die too and i would never live again. It's unspeakable to even think about that." I knew that i wouldn't like hearing this but it had to be said.

    "Rrrch! This is ridiculous! So i don't have a choice? i just have to continue the cycle, i don't get to choose when or whether or not I'm made again?! What if i want to be complete for longer? What if i'm not ready?!" i screamed.

    "No one is ever ready. And everything i'm feeling is completely normal." I reassured. "One day i will realize the importance of this connection and cycle. One day it will all make sense and i will start to feel ready. It just takes time."

    "One day, one day, ONE DAY! Not TOday! Not ANYDAY! It's all just too much, it's way too much!" i got up and started running up the stairs.

    "I'm not asking myself to be ready today!" I yelled to myself as i ran up the stairs. "I wanted to explain all this to myself before someone else had the chance! I... ughhhh." I sighed. I knew this wouldn't be easy. It's something that everyone has to learn eventually, one way or the other. I guess there are some things i just don't want to understand yet.

                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Wind

There's got to be someplace where the wind stops,
someplace where it finally takes off its jacket and rests.
Where it gathers and sorts all the leaves and plastic bags it's collected,
where it reflects on all the people whose faces it brushed.
I wonder where that could be,
the edge of the world?
An inscalable mountaintop?
A vast cave that no man has seen the end of?
What a lonely and mystical place that would be;
like the Garden of Eden after all its inhabitants had been evicted.
Wherever that is I hate to think I might never see it,
but when I stand in the wind and see the fall leaves float listlessly on their way
I close my eyes and think about it;
the trees and I bow to your majesty,
your lonesome curse to sweep this earth of all its leaves and bags,
to live forever a brush away from the people you must ironically envy.
It's no wonder you punish those you love when you are angry,
I can only fathom the torture you must feel
when you spin whirlwinds around a little child and make them smile
only to realize how fleeting the moment is,
that they will never acknowledge you or thank you for that joy you gave them.
You and I are the same;
forced by fate to move ever forward
despite how desperately we cling to the moments of joy we try so hard to obtain.
I will try to meet you there,
one day when I am allowed to stop.
We'll take off our jackets together
and smile at all the things we've gathered along the way.
We'll joke about the difficult times
when it seemed like the constant whipping around would never end.
We'll sigh contentedly at the marks we've left on the earth
and at the fact that we no longer have to make them.
You and I,
one day;
but until then
I'll continue to be carried
by time and my own reluctant instinct to move forward
and stop to feel the wind brush my face when I can
and thank you.