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.  

Finding the path i used to take every morning was trouble-some in the dark.  Since you can't use your most keen sense of sight, you have to remember the feel of it all.  It was actually easier to close my eyes and pretend to be blind.  Letting my other 4 senses finally take over and lead me through the passages of dense forestry.  The breaks in deadwood scattered beneath the dead leaves.  Innocent weeps when winter slowly presses in.  Death, Decay and Re-birth all in a matter of years.  Only time can tell.  Sometimes branches and tree limbs get intertwined around my clothes and pulls me down and i have to delay my travels to find my way out.  As soon as I walked off my path, I instantly got lost.  No more routines, no more planning and being ahead of task.  All is lost and it is time for some sort of major change.  In the world and in me. 
A half an hour into walking the abyss of shadows and retrospect, i lose my balance and trip over something.  I don't know if it was a branch, an animal, vines or a foot.  The apprehension followed me all the way to the pile of firewood.  I thought i hit my head hard enough to be knocked unconscious but i guess not.  The pain trembled and the fright started picking away from my knees and started working on the rest of my joints.  Knowing that i was alone...forever, i still had 3 more hours until sunlight and paralysis set in mid-fumble.  When people ask if a tree falls and no one is around to hear it, does it make a noise...just answer yes.  It doesn't just make a noise but an explosion.  It does more than strike the ear but it trembles the body and makes your pupils roll around.  Its inspiring and dislimning.  I would of ran for the nearest peaceful destination but the sound was addicting and the absence of feeling other than enjoyment has left my cerebral.  Only if I entered the Occulum program, this would all feel like a blank state to me.  Once the technology enters into all of reality and casts it slim filter towards every facet of our lives is when our lives become obsolete and the fittest.  We are currently winning the "war" and thus keeping pushing all other organisms into a state of surrender.  Humans are about territory and entertainment.  If your deemed wrong, your carefully labeled endangered.  If you stand up and ask why, your get slaughtered and branded extinct.  We like to discuss the idea of being free, the responsibilities of freedom and our "rights" but what about other earth-dwellers rights?  Isn't it all an hypocrisy when we invade our wilderness and start looking for answers.  Answers for us but no solutions for the entire scheme of things.
After convulsing for air for the first few seconds of re-consciousness, i realized the sanctity of my un-touched void has relapsed.  I finally can move but what is the point after so many years of it.  Staying active, being busy and waking up to early.  Sometimes even earlier than the birds just for fate.  For a joking purpose...to be wanted.  To be the nurturer to our forgetful and abandoned lives.  To step in the shoes of the un-employed Mother Nature but i was a peasant jumping into a kings palace.  And then i stand up, turn a complete 360 degrees and realize i have no clue which direction i was heading to.  So i figure faith hasn't helped me yet so why not give it a chance.  Faith or luck, or some other word that means a random occurence that works out in your favor.  So i take off my shoe and throw it as high as i possibly can.  The elevation of my shoe nearly reaches the top of the trees and comes barreling down.  It points to the right of me, so i go to the left.  And walk for a few more hours in my sinking shoes.  My body aches as my soul searches.  Trying to piece together the direction i am heading and trying to remember why i am on such a journey.  I didn't have any answer when i stepped out of that burning edifice.  But the best time to come up with a reason is after the has already happened.  So i guess i left because i wanted to change.  I was stuck in Winter and just wanted to revolve and be Spring.  Be born again. 
Later, after walking through the remaining shrubbery i reached the concrete playground.  Miles across filled with cement blocks that look oddly too perfect.  It was like looking at an ocean during a sunset.  an abandoned necessity that fills your tears with knowledge.  Knowledge is when you intertwine your experiences and education.  Time to finally fall into my footsteps and find out the lure.  Information will always live even when it is not being comprehended just like any ancient language.  We can try to decipher the codes but we can never get it right.  Anything right.  The only way to consume information is to live in the present and do your own journalism.  Research and explore the depths of text and visualizations and combine your findings into wisdom.  So i head in the only direction i know how.  Looking for the resource we all take for granted in the building that was handed to us.  Just to tease us.  A place that's full of words but never crosses our mind.  The chapel in the clouds, my childhood library. 
The stairs had an odd step to them all.  Awkwardly paced and randomly placed.  By the looks of them, it must of been the first thing the contractors put in.  Chips and welts taken out of the cement that must of stuck to the strangers that coerced on the steps.  The Architecture is definitely early millennium, just an update from his past self.  The idealization still bothers me.  Updating and old system that's dated to past technologies.  Then we have to train ourselves to be able to adapt to the past and the present.  Trying to relate old mechanics with new statistics.  The glass was broken by an angry soul when they finally closed the doors after i left two decades ago.  But the front doors still remained open.  Intruders or philanthropists?  I open the doors so they remain completely free and that is when the smell of old books hit me.  It is just the same as grandmas house.  Dust that has been un-touched for over a year.  Dead skin cells building up on one another, the mixing of DNA from passerby's.  The personalities of tempted humans connecting with the tempters.  Clouds of the smell exist in the library. 
The main reception room must of shrunk since my last visit.  I thought the ceiling reached 20 feet high when i was 11 but now i see that it barely covers my head.  Proportions like to play tricks on you when you age.  I guess the older you get the more you realized parts of your life was just your mind playing tricks on you to help relieve some sort of emotional pain.  Your memory tells you something happened a certain way to make your point a certainty.  But then i see the stained wood overlays that i used to brush by everyday while leaving.  The linoleum has been washed away and stains have immersed themselves on the old panes of dead wood but the reminiscence still exists.  I follow my fond memories that only can be brought up through these sincere moments, and i tread on to the main floor.  Literally stacked with books from philosophy to children's fiction.  The Dewey decimal system has been long forgotten and any one seeking a good read has forgotten about politeness and left their books pressed on top of others.  Some books completely trashed, pages scattered on top of the tables and reserved stacks back regulars.  Somehow i managed to come when silence was standardized and only a few, young souls existed in the structures of a run-down library.  Two out of the 5 gentlemen are obviously here because this is their home.  No one checks up on ghost towns and only the ones who fear leaving exist anymore.  The other 3 are trying to get some researching done.  Finding the odd books that most established libraries don't bother ordering but the historians adore.  But i guess i am here for a different reason.  To finally put an end to this debate over the Occulum technology.  To discover the truth and drown out the fabricated lies and rumors. 
Before i get to any of that though, I need to take the time to look around.  To understand the living situations here and maybe converse and interact before i mark my territories.  So i head over to the nearest table of the 2 squatters and say "So what brings you two boys here?"  And it looks like they took kindly to that.  They both look into each others eye and the one closest to me, the one with dark auburn hair chimes out "We were originally from here, Autumn and decided to come back.  Our university, Northeastern, didn't receive our payments so we decided to pack up and come back home and now we reside here."  And then i took a seat and played catch through communication.  Reminiscing citizens, stalkers, the gossipers.  Even though they were a decade behind me, they still followed the public news.  And then 3 hours have passed.  I forgot to get any inside scoop on the inter-workings of the current library but i did get a nice feel of friendship and new memories of old situations.  If only we understood our memories and could interpret why our long-term memories only come back to us when others bring up their memories that exist in the same time frame.  The brain intrigues and confuses me.  But it was to late to ponder so i tried to find a place to sleep.  Most of the less-important rooms in the library were already taken up.  The managers office, receptions office, and the break room were in use so i took to the janitors closet.  The most vacant place in the whole building.  And then i shut my eyes and hummed an improvisational song to rock me to sleep.  Sleep that i never managed to get growing up.  I used to take advantage of sleep and be afraid of my dreams.  Being put into a situation which your brain controls.  The only time your brain can trap you in its slick webs and eat away at you.  Your conscious isn't their anymore to clear up a situation.  But now I love it.  Letting yourself become your own slave.  The only trouble i have is remembering to never take a dream to serious.  Its only a form of entertainment when you lie motionless for 8 hours, give or take.
Then as my dreams of circling suns finally starts to make sense i wake up abruptly.  Living in the dark with no option of light is hard to embrace.  I hear scurrying and many footsteps.  Some objects being put into bags and a slew of cheers echoes the chambers around the main entrance.  The echoes pick up, multiply until the noise is hard to track.  And then a frantic, hard pressed pace towards the exit.  My guess is bandits.  A rather fairy tale approach to take in the situation but what your mother told you is true.  Always pack up your belongings and make sure you have many hiding places.  They never steal the over-abundant such as books but notes, journals or any keepsake left out like watches, glasses.  Anything of vague value that could be needed anywhere is the only things they take.  Thiefs at least have a guilt conscious.  I try so hard to fall back asleep but the fear has provoked me to stay awake in my lair.  Right next to the plunger.  And i finally rise when the sweat starts pouring from my sunken pours and the beads start to hit the grimacing floor.  So i reach for the door, only to be met with a un-usual face.  Kaleb is right in front of me but none of it seems real.  He tries to comfort me, to tell me everything will always be okay and he just needs to finish this one thing for our lifes to be perfect.  I try to look him dead in the eyes but to my knowledge, he is wearing an Occulum so i could never believe him.  He tells me his is currently in Jesum City and then he turns and walks away.  I try to catch up to him but nothing was anywhere.  I am in a completely empty building that hardly resembles the library at all.  All sanity has left the building and a fall to the ground and faint. 
Then i wake up again and feel suddenly nauseous.  Like i have entered the stratosphere and returned to my natural state every millisecond for a minute.  Shaken up.  I feel dry blood on my forehead or expect their to be some but nothing.  No scrapes, no bruises and no sign of anything that happened last night.  I lunge forward from the door and everything is exactly as i remember it from yesterday.  Everything has a differently feel to it.  This place is so active and lively.  Each book contains one hundred answers and all i have to do is find patterns under the topic of an Occulum. 
Even though this library hasn't been manually run in a few years, they still get the newspapers and you can easily place an order for any book or article.  The internet doesn't exist since computers became obsolete.  When any timed labor is involved anymore, its ran by a nice and trusting robot.  Internal theft hasn't existed for 12 years in most businesses.  So i place an order for some outstanding research articles titled "The Statistics and the Occulum", "What the Occulum could do for all of us", and "What in the hell is an Occulum?" and then wait for a few days and Bingo, they are right here.  Netflix of the 21st century.  But for anything that is deliverable.  Quite nice.
Journal Entry 52: Sarah (9:12 A.M.) 9/15/34
The dream with Kale caught me off guard.  A dream inside of a dream is always the least expected.  It's to much for a psyche to handle.  It left me confused and stumbling over my own thoughts.  It felt real but that's why dreams are so great.  Their wasn't much said, just glances and occasional looks and his words.  His two sentences, quick and to the point, will be burned into my mental notes till the die i am finally released.  Released from the sanctions that our reality holds on all of us.  Our perception is one thing but then their is the absolute fact.  Everything we do is permanent and can never be changed.  Every time we do a simple task, the etching in the sand gets deeper and deeper until we can not use that area anymore.  Then we search and do the same thing.  Until everything is contaminated. 
Their was things he said that made no sense especially his location.  "Experts" say that everything that is entitled in your dreams actually have a meaning.  Usually depression and suicidal tendencies but those are meaning nonetheless and must be taken into account.  The library was completely empty when he was there.  I think i am rather intellectual but maybe the meaning of an empty library means i have no wisdom.  What i say is just some depressed human trying to make meaning into her lonely life.  Then he told me everything will be ok.  Comfort, security.  Everything i might actually need in my life and what i actually dream of.  Saying dream is hard to right.  I guess its my goals.  Dreams our nonsense and maybe goals are too and that is why we lump these two words together.  Then he told me his whereabouts.  Jesum city.  I looked it up and there is no and has never been a Jesum city.  Is it an anagram?  Or a bump in my memory, something that must be trigger through memory.  Even though time can warp your views on time, distance and colors it can not distort what has already been said.