Per Sempre Il Vostro or the Chimera of Choice

Lightning lashes a fierce flash to which thunder quips a crippling crack. I gush in excitement. I imagine hot wind whistling at the tip of the atmosphere and a cool surge slapping sense across it's face. Majestic myriads of crystals leap from the clouds and soar toward a billion blades of grizzly green grass. The flood-gates have opened & the ground begs for more, more.

The conditions are perfect for change; force-fields control the calm & the chaotic, the waxing and waning of the moon, the ebb and flow of the tide, the cyclical patterns of our wobbly path in the cosmos; are we moving forward while spinning backwards or spinning backward while moving forwards? Do you feel the Earth shaking beneath your feet? Can you see the aurora dancing in every radio wave? Can you taste the poison in the air? It's unlikely you notice the microcosms that thrive beneath the obvious, because the world is over-saturated with information, grid-locking your senses, chemically-controlling your desires, ingraining a DDOS attack on your psyche with sugar, caffiene, sex, jealousy, envy, success & material-wealth. Empty skyscrapers envelope the skyline with the illusion of prosperity; look up, reach higher, chase the unattainable. We are an extension of our surroundings, a reflection of our radius, a composite of our core - yet we limit our understanding to our immediate first-person perspective. We filter the world through our own biased lens; we drink and wear labels not for taste, quality or purity but because we visualize our ideal self by sheer association. I must be creative; I use Apple! I must be sexy; I wear Prada. I must be, be, be - when did being evolve from having? Possession is an illusion; nothing is truly yours as you are as fleeting as your surroundings. Time is the only truth, it gives, it takes, it humbles us to learn that the only essential in life is knowledge. Knowledge can not be created, nor destroyed. It is pure energy manifest into creation. In the waking world, we are limited by our own language, ego, financial status & the chimera of choice into believing we are actually making decisions. Grande or Venti? Red or Blue? Pepsi or Coke? Democrat or Republican? Soup or salad? It's all the fucking same, quantifiable consumption, an infectious conception created by our imaginations to be unique. Lightning doesn't give a fuck if you are unique.

AE- "Thought is energy, to create it, just use your imagination."

Wanderings

Last night I crawled into bed shortly before sunrise. Outside the pavement was silent; palm trees swayed gracefully under somber purple and grey skies. I buried my face beneath my yellow comforter hoping for the world to glide away into total darkness and much needed quality rest. Moments later, I felt a warm glow encapsulate my entire body; the world bright red through closed eyelids. Lifting the blanket a few inches below my nose, the morning greeted me with an explosion of golden orange hues cascading throughout my apartment. Wrapped in floor to ceiling windows, my home beckons the light to dance into every crevice and my body to be bathed in glorious unfiltered rays of the new day. Silhouettes of palm trees reached for the light but were masked almost invisible by it's powerful glow. The event lasted only a few fleeting magical breaths and soon slipped away into peaceful pink and blue tones. I knew nothing again would ever be the same. The light wasn't mine to keep, but my eyes devoured each and every second we shared. I became entranced by it's beauty and the sensation of gravity seemed to weaken in it's presence. I crawled into bed experiencing a magnetic duality: savoring the moment as if it was created only for me while simultaneously letting it slip away as all fond memories eventually do. Darkness came and conquered. Mine to keep. A. Perfect. Black. Abyss.

I woke up recklessly speeding in my Jeep, the interstate congested as usual but not enough to hold me back from swerving in and out of each lane like a thief on the run. I felt free; the wind kissed my neck and my tires gripped the road knowing exactly where I wanted to be - home, where I continuously seemed to be traveling toward but never quite arriving. The horizon softened and skyscrapers emerged in the distance, but suddenly something wasn't right. The sky became littered in smoke and flames burst high up in the center of my vision.

Where could this be coming from, I pressed.

Cars stranded in all directions, the world empty and alone.  

Everyone is gone, am I the only one left?

I pursued my destination without hesitation; knowing everyone else may have evacuated was of their concern. My home, my life, my everything must be salvaged. The Jeep came to a screeching halt. 

The engine must have been stalled from a shock wave, I mused.

I stepped outside and within seconds it dawned on me.

It's my skyscraper, Vizcayne, pouring smoke into the skies. How? Why?

The building began to crumble into itself and the sky radiated a reddish glow. I rushed forward to get a closer look. Without warning, I spotted a giant triceratops charging it's horns into concrete and ripping the city to shreds. It's bulky body acted as a shield for its' sheer speed as it smashed from one building to the next. The creature fueled by chaos screamed in enrapture at the destruction like a big brother kicking over a little brothers lego tower. I must warn the rest. We can't survive this.

I dodged into safety, ambient sounds of a brass symphony echoed through walls of empty ticket boxes. I came upon a large door and loudly forced my way through to find my sweaty, wide-eyed panic-stricken appearance an obvious distraction for a large sophisticated crowd. Silence ensued. Twenty silk dresses, satin overcoats and lace leggings cast glares my direction before a tall guard gripped my arm and forced me outside of the entrance. A thousand glowing overhead bulbs cast shadows on his face and my manic mumblings were of little concern to the orders he was receiving from a transmitter nestled inside his earpiece.  

Fuck. They're all fucked. 

Outside, my thoughts grew quieter and the dampened tones of the symphony enveloped me in a sea of distraction. I was handed a chilly glass to calm my woes; knowing half of the world was experiencing utter destruction and the other half living blatantly ignorant of the truth, I took a sip in wonder of my place in it all - and woke up.