click above for 3 of 4. what does it mean that it's red, though? thanks to Anonymous for the song direct.
when did trolling get stale? Fleetwood Mac always makes me cry.
my motorcycle had just enough juice to get over a nasty rock before going kaput. i was able to awkwardly clear up into the lip of the ridge, the top of the cliff, but a whiteout blanketed my view. it was the town in the distance there, i felt it in my cold bones, but i couldn't see it, it was coming down hard. the thing about whiteouts is they seem like they're never going to end...but they do, they lessen anyway, you just have to wait for it to lessen, and you can sneak an opening for view. the key is to wait, you just have to wait.
town, city, village, whatever this was, it would have to do, it would have to be the last place. by the time i thought about tethering my bike to somewhere, a tree or something, the damn thing was already lost in a pile of the wet white, no idea where it was now, no time to dig it out. luckily i had removed my vitals from it beforehand.
slow but sure wins the race, but we all lose the game. slowly i trudged along past the ridge down into the valley of the town, carrying my load. i might have disappeared along the way, no one could see me, and i couldn't see anything save a mass of angelic white welcoming me to winter. time was lost here, a second became five minutes, there was no sense of direction, i just hoped i was inching by and i would near the edge of town by night? well, i just wanted to make it.
some time later after eating something i don't remember to keep my strength, i reached town. mall lights were trying their best to pierce through the white sheet, they were dull, but they were there, i saw them. through small patches of breathing room i could see the mall all decked out with garlands, spruce, bells, and giant candy canes. i could even hear faintly in the distance kids talking about their expectations for their big gifts come the big day, of course all the kids had been good this year. Santa Claus still existed inbetween the drafts of snow in the beautiful nothing conversations of youth which meant everything. imagination was not dead here if you took the time to get past the cacophony of the world and really listen to life pure. the debate raged on: Xbox One vs PS4. Cartman admonished Butters. passe ugly-sweater parties. hot chocolate vs. hot cocoa. angels spoke. excitement was in the air despite everything that had happened. the parents spoke about Snowden, which i found amusing.
i was not meant for this kind of communal life, to live in towns, i was made for a solitary course, the wisps were guiding me, they told me i needed to sacrifice everything in order to live the life i wanted, that destiny was a dirty word because few knew what it really meant to follow one's destiny to the utter limit. i turned away, my business was not with their business, it would never be again. i even thought about visiting Karen, but...nah, what's the point? heh, that woman passionately speaking about the NSA through her pumpkin-spice latte reminded me of my Aunt SARA, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK and her passion, a passion which ultimately cost her her life. would i see her again? would i see her ever again through this?
as i left the activity of creation to the stark reality of creation, i knew how God felt to be an eternal Observer, to witness, but never to participate, to see and hear atop an isolated mountaintop, to travel alone in a single-file line to the end without any acknowledgment. they speak about you, they think about you, but it's not the real you they are imagining, only you are here now along this path, only you know what this means, no one sees your destiny through the blizzard.
ever so slowly, i reached, reached, reached to the top until the ground became level against my feet again. getting more comfortable. with this. i looked straight. nothing. white. the pixies guided my eyes. i looked slightly up, and i saw it.
TO BE CONCLUDED...