Through My Eyes by Dr. Impressive Chapter 2

The Initiative Part 1
Those days are far behind me.  The house has been abandoned like i have been because the treachery was to much to bear.  All items that remind me of my past have been smashed, tore, ripped into tiny pieces.  I sprinkled them like ash around my territory, circularly around me in our bedroom and struck a match.  The flame reached his clothes and carried throughout our picture frames and then to the drapes that we picked out together.  The fire engulfed me in a circular pattern.  Rising above me and over me as if i was in a force field.  After the form fitted around me, i took one deep breath and held it in. i then carefully stepped out of my orb and re-traced my footsteps of yesterday to the front yard.  Then immediately ran to the forest where i last saw Kale.  I am not on manhunt or trying to find him because i know where he is now is were he wants to be.  You can't change a direction of a line and the same goes for a mans dreams.  Life used to make sense but now i feel if insanity has crept in.  Insomnia has definitely trapped me.  Every time i close my eyes it feels like i have developed a case of vertigo.  When darkness surrounds you, the loneliness sinks in and your security has finally left you to survive on your own.  

Life

life began as an accident just like all life is a constant, random occurrence and i can’t wait to flourish, this narcissistic perspective of mine has always proven me wrong and left me nervous but most days i just feel worthless, just like a dream or my underlining purpose.  And then comes death, that's when we finally realize we have been holding onto the edge of the surface.  Mortality is a risk just like that good night kiss because the heart can’t settle on a near miss even if our ending takes a sudden plot twist, so time weaves reality into a fabric and every generation is just a stitch.  The plague flows up to my wrists because the anger speaks louder than any fists.  But the world is not ready for me to dream, even if all the fabric follows the seams.  Just because peace is all we need doesn’t mean corruption will not always be our fiend.  And sometimes you might need to just say please.  And the only way we can conquer a notion is through a team.  But no one i know wants to win because you can’t play life like a game , just because patterns emerge doesn’t make us all the same.  It might of all started with a sun, and all some of us need is a son. But when the day is all done, just remember that no matter your age, your life has just begun. 

Midnight is in her Eyes

“Midnight, is in her Eyes”


I pressed the ridged piece of mirror against my wrist, wondering what it would feel like. A reflection of my childhood dream catcher appeared in the glass. I looked up to see it hanging above the bed. I forgot it had been there for so long, like a part of the wall it belonged there where it hung. I wondered how many nightmares the little thing had saved me from. How many terrible memories had it kept out of my head during my unconscious hours at night. Then I wondered if it had prevented any nightmares at all, shouldn’t the spiderweb net grow heavier with every nightmare? After-all how many bugs can a spiderweb hold before it breaks loose?
None of it mattered.


I wasted too much of my time thinking about minute things. I tilted the glass upwards to see my face, and in turn pressed the opposite end into my skin slightly, there’s a little bit of blood on my cheek. My eye sparkled from the light reflecting off the glass, there too dark. I never liked my brown eyes, I always wished one morning I would wake up with blue ones. My eyes looked blank, almost frozen as if I had died with my eyes open, nothing behind them. I bet it makes me very hard to read, mysterious in a way. Some girl’s find mysterious attractive I think, maybe brown eyes aren’t so bad. Something woke up the dog and he barked, I jumped, being pulled out of my thought and into reality accidentally sliding the edge against my wrist. I yelled, not in pain but at the dog. He stopped barking and I was bleeding all over the glass and down my arm. I was awkwardly calm for something like this to have just happened. I slowly put the glass down on my cluttered coffee table, the light reflected off of it again but this time at the ceiling. Painting the room in a tint of crimson red from the blood glazed over the shattered mirror.

An Argument

As i begin to feel all this commotion, my neurons start to fail because they are beginning to choke just floating too deep into the ocean,  And that notion you brought up must of been some gimmicky joke because your viewpoints would never get you to far,  while my heaven only exists inside a star, right next to the carbons and below the random elements.  that criticism didn't make me feel better it just felt like you stole my soul in an embezzlement so i back up my theory, but your fogged perspective only makes hell break loose into a violent tyranny, so i knit pick your statement and make you hate it so while i get closer to show how your wrong, you get louder to show me your strong.  But i can't take it, i am whispering and your shouting and i don't want to make this argument in one of us pouting.  So i endlessly give up even if i had the better points because your anger that you generally built up would of led to you being disappointed, so i leave your immaturity on the other side of the door, and i take your contentions and and drop them on the floor

Exploit It

I took a step back to rethink my past, slowed it down, never too fast, accept that whatever’s gone wrong has already passed and it doesn’t have to be what I think of last. I understand karma and her strict regulations, but she only brings me back stupid frustrations quietly laced in hopeless relations constantly testing my overused patience. Maybe I deserve what I get and it’s my time to pay off my debt, even though we’ve never actually met she poses too much of a threat. So I try to be nice and hold back each vice, saying everyone comes with a price as I’m tip toeing across spider web ice. It seems like the same trouble comes back around, pretending like it’s never been found to shoot up and drag me straight down sinking through the all too familiar ground. My eyes explode wide open and I wonder what was actually spoken as I search for whatever was broken or the little black book that I wrote in. I like to read through each page because it illustrates every detailed stage that induced this blinding red rage towards the fucking concept of age. I couldn’t go on without the promise of passion, so I asked for a solid brick wall to crash in, I said fuck all the money to cash in as long as I leave with only a single slashed grin. Honestly, I get bored with existence without some type of resistance so I grip on persistence towards space and more distance. I can never get too far away from the world painted gray repeating the same god damn day I stopped being okay. I spend too much time alone, sitting next to a dead quiet phone, waiting for someone to call me back home without that fuckin ‘last resort’ tone. Until that voice finally speaks out I’ll bite my tongue to discourage a shout, waiting alone filled with infinite doubt expecting someone to care what I’m really about. So I’ll try not to let the booze hit because this time I might actually lose it, but for now I’ll drift away in beautiful music.. loving the fact that I know just how to use it.

Through My Eyes by Dr. Impressive

 Currently writing chapter 2.

 Prologue

Journal Entry 15: Kaleb (11:51 A.M.) 4/13/2034

It all started with the roads. The connectivity of beings and that constant rush we always seem to be in. More and more the laborers were asked but the rapid structures and reconstructions of temporary roads did not add any benefit to time saving. It only prepared us for the inevitable. The destruction of self. We could rise later and waste longer. We could produce, reproduce and co-produce. No one was ready for the future and hopefully this wasn't our answer for it. The physical structures that stamped our races pride and top-of-the-food-chain mentality. We won, or so we think. The more we build, the less we can sustain in the ever fading twilight of the future. Our next generation, ever-growing, ever producing will have to either shove their feet in the sand or start trampling the reasons we are here. Soon they are going to have to forget about one tense. Obviously the present is ominous and greedy. The past is charming but ill-important. You can only learn so much and hold so much knowledge. And the future, the reason we pro-create ceases to exist. Why plan when we can spend? Why prioritize when we could live ignorantly blind? If only the Mockingbird could bring them shame.