Short Stories

“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

walk away on sand

The boy’s gone. The boy’s gone home.

It’s a tree trunk. It’s a cut down tree trunk. It was planted by my grandma, and then two more  grew on its side. Grandma died when I was 9. Few years back they cut one tree that the storm killed. Then they cut another. And now they finally cut the main trunk as the roots were tampering with God knows what.

What will happen to a face in the crowd when it finally gets too crowded.
And will happen to the origins of sound after all the sounds have sounded
Well I hope I never have to see that day but by god I know it’s headed our way
So I better be happy now that the boy’s going home. The boy’s gone home.

And I am sitting on it, the wind is raging around me, ruffling my hair, blowing through me. I have met a lot of winds before this day. I will meet a lot afterwards. But they never stop to amaze me. They never will stop to make me think and think so deep that my feet give way. I can feel her on my face. Hard cold slaps. Once. Twice. And again.

And what becomes of a day for those who rage against it
And who will sum op the phrase for all left standing around in it

I know not the heart I have. I know not of the heart left in me. I do not know when it all started. When my imagination became my reality and when my reality turned virtual. When the solids around me went up in smoke and the air and the winds materialized around me. I do not know when it all started. I do not know what this wind wants from me now

Well I suppose we’ll all make our judgement call
We’ll walk it alone, stand up tall, then march to the fall 
So we better be happy now that we’ll all go home

I am tired. Tired to be the person I am. Tired to change into someone else. Tired to believe in things that don’t exist and feelings that don’t hold. Tired of trusting. God I am so tired of hope itself

Be so happy with the way you are
Be so happy that you made it this far
Go on be happy now. Please be happy now

Tell me what heart do I have? I wish it was big enough to engulf all the misery and anger and pain, make it disappear. Be lost into some pit and be lost forever. All it takes is a gust of wind. A broken tree trunk. And a bad word, to bring everything bubbling to the surface

But it won’t come up again. The thoughts the feelings. The trust and the depth of love. The very hope in some distant savior turned to dust and the very wind that held on to me so long is taking all those feelings away. Maybe it’s time. To stop walking with the figment of your imagination. Stop talking to friends that are not material. Because if being virtual is your truth, then better walk away from the actual. From the solid. Their reality is much perfect without. Without you

I tried to live my life and live it so well
But when it’s all over is it heaven or is it hell
I better be happy now that no one can tell, nobody knows
I’m gonna be happy with the way that I am
I’m gonna be happy with all that I stand for
I’m gonna be happy now because the boy’s going home.

The boy’s gone home.

sparrow and tree
(Lyrics: Jason Mraz’s Boy’s Gone and Title: Oscar Wilde)

 

 

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