the darkest means met

 It was too late to reach her, there were no replacements found, they thought they didn't need her. We picked up the pieces wherever we could. She kept slamming the sofabed lid. It was made of strong hard wood, but she still made splinters fly in her anger. Stop light, go. Crept closer and further apart. Astronomical features. Far away feathers, things kept increasing and decreasing in size. No one could be sure what was really going on. We only knew that we had forgotten, something had been forgotten and therefor something else had been lost. Something we didn't realize we couldn't live without. Now we where drowning in ignorance and being flooded with knowledge. It all was so informative and empty. Mostly emptiness. that was what ruled here. We were gaining the sky but losing ground. We where flying fast but going nowhere. There was a barrier between us and salvation. We had won the sky but lost the stars. Someone had decided and we followed. There was nothing else left for us to do. We had lost the will, the yearning to live and thrive. We were now only part of machinery called Maisema. It had an ancient meaning. It was connected to something, but we had forgotten and lost our own meaning. The storm kept raging on, and we kept ignoring it.

Solitude will find a new, deeper meaning

There is no such thing as a first page. You realize these things very quickly out here. No such thing as a first word or sentence. The nothingness has to be, for something to exist in it, and that’s where we got trapped. We are trapped in the fact that we once never where, and once will cease to exist. We are trapped in that fact, and cannot -no matter how we look at it- grasp it or even begin to understand it. What does it mean to exist in this temporary opening in the wormhole between two worlds, between the living and the dead, between coming and what has gone.

All these messages we are getting from earth are just echoes by the time they reach us. Before the ink has dried, we could be the last of our kind. There is something immensely frightening about not dying with them. About surviving out here, while the rest is wiped out. It seems like we will have a lonelier passing, like a severed body part, a hand or a toe, outliving the host. We would die by the thousands, while they would have died as billions.

There is no last hope. Once the roots have been pulled and burnt, the branches and bark has fallen off and dried, the seed is lifting and finding its own place, but it will never be that tree that grew. The water, the very ground, will be different. Even the sun will have an unfamiliar glow, cold will be colder, hot hotter. Solitude will find a new, deeper meaning.

25. Vague, Discrete

It came first like a tickle, somewhere in my mind. I would turn around to face someone that had moved in the outskirts of my periphery, and meet with an empty space. 
 Something was there, I knew, I could feel it. 
In the jumble of thoughts and emotions that invaded my mind when I accidently let it drift, there it was, there he was. His movements vague, discrete, carefully caressing my consciousness.

in the direction of you

i would go anywhere in the direction of you
 even when there is nothing to be found
and all these wicked kind eyes
rip me apart with every smile
take me anywhere in the direction of you
i will follow

24. Awating the silence

There will be a long sleep, a long night, a vast darkness. We will rest and eventually the rest will take us deeper to where we need to be led. We can not go there unless we agree to sink and become one. We become one and sink. Space will narrow and the closeness will confine us. The density of thoughts and feeling will thicken and fog up our minds. The pains will be overwhelming, the joy unbearable. We will think with five thousand minds, remember five thousand lives, hope by five thousand dreams and love with five thousand hearts. You will hate, despise and envy yourself with the power of the next persons mind. You will see yourself with your neighbours eyes, listen with their ears, react with their emotions. Five thousand inner voices speaking in full privacy, to you.

This is what we have to endure, until all words has melted to a murmur, a low background noise and all we have left is pure feeling. Everything will melt together and there will be only the pain of a bursting heart. The pain of being close, the pain of knowing we will be torn apart, the pain of loving and hating, all at once. We will keep being pulled, pushed and pinned together to a tiny core. The world will be distorted, you will lose all sense of yourself, your body, the space around us. There will be only this nucleus that is five thousand compressed into one. Then the catalyst will come. It is one word risen above the stream of murmur, a sigh or a tune or a scent, a vibration from within the core. It sets off a chain reaction, it spreads faster than time can measure. It halts the universe, and the universe knows its doomsday, as it knew its beginning. Life ends, burns in a tidal wave of flame. 
And for the shortest moment, the deep silence.

dream and a half

When I spoke to him
There was never really any reply
He was half a breath short
Half a thought shy
Half a dream away
The lies separeted us
Some lifetimes ago
That and just a few moments close
I held my breath as he spoke again
I held my heart as we rode
Across another hopless dream
Maybe we could find a path
This time around
They wouldn't catch up to us
The lies and impossible truths
Would be a dream and a half away

come

Where can I go

It’s lonely in your lies

When dreams are too restless to let me settle

I am lonely in your lies

The hours torture me, the minutes even more so

And it’s so lonely in your lies

Come darkness where I no longer feel

Come that moment between wake and sleep

Come that time when I no longer hear the echoes

When loneliness is all I have

And I’m freed from the shackles of your lies