He was just now washing his hands. The cold, slippery water sputtered and fell from the faucet, clinging to his hands, as if that was their only purpose. the water clung, and clung, as if that was their only experience, before death and the drain took them. But very quickly, the clinging water was pushed away by more droplets, as they too wanted their chance to live.
As if on cue to turning off the water, a slight and slow melody started to play. it manifested itself quickly, and more and more rapidly became louder and louder. This wasn’t a song in his head, this was everywhere, surrounding him, englufing him. It enabled him and he was capsized by the song, defenseless to the music.
Tim opened the door, and was hit by a scene so intense, he fell to his knee’s. This was not the plaza he had just left from. This was a terryfing, beautiful mix of lights and colors and contrast. Light was attacking him, and if he focused hard enough, he could see the electrons of the atoms. He could see them, spinnning effortlessly, bouncing light waves back at him, throwing at Tim everything that they could. These particularly volatile atoms, when unzoomed, created the fountain in the middle of the plaza. And It wasn’t just those electrons that attacked him, it was every color in the universe, every electron. He was hit by everything.
Very slowly, he started to recognize the blaring noise things that one could call a song,
it was beethoven.
his 5th symphony, actually. It ascended and boomed, powerful with delicate energy. It had a strange effect on the fountain, as well. The music charmed the water in the pipes to billow and shoot out to the rythm of the music. Slowly, a black liquid entered this stream, and danced miracously with the water in the air. This particle liquid seemed to ignore gravity, however, and stayed perfectly still in the places it was shot up, while the water fell fleetingly to the earth. The floating black liquid made a ghostly shadow of the fountain’s former glory, a landmark of the beauty that just existed.
it was scary.
These black droplets soon started to suck all the color out of the area they were in. The world became gray next to the fountain, and Tim feared losing his color, so he did naturally what anyone would do when presented with a dilemma.
he shut his eyes.
Thats when he noticed his feet weren’t moving. In fact, his feet weren’t feet at all anymore, they were roots now, brown and gnarled, and they planted him to the ground. He felt the ground now, he felt the concrete, the walkways, the city blocks and alley ways. he felt the sharp clang of fallen coins against his skin. he was suddenly overcome by the feeling of millions and millions of people walking all over him, and it was a feeling he couldnt escape. It overtook him, and he was tired of being the concrete, so he opened his eyes.
The black liquid was gone now, but the color around the fountain was too. He missed it greaty, and now he loved it. But the rest of the color was hot now, it singed his eyes, burnt into his skin, and indian burned his arms
Tim needed water.
He rushed to the fountain, and splashed in its water. With every splash, memories and problems fell into the pool from tim, as the water droplets greedily sucked away everything he could remember. The memories played in little bubbles that collected in the basin’s edge. He wanted to kill them, so he did. He splashed and splashed until he was empty, completely devoid of anything that made Tim, Tim. And now he ran to a tree and hugged it. He absorbed the tree, absorbed all of its experience, all of its memories, everything it had to show for its existance. [Later on, Tim would name this effect transfer, and found it quite entertaining].
He was now the tree, somber, green, cold, and fresh. His roots burrowed through the concrete and absorbed the feelings down there, finding fear, hate, anxiety, and discovery. He absorbed it all, chewed it and thought it over for a while, and made those feelings into leaves. These leaves soon blossomed into small bushels of color that sputtered and flew to the gray areas around the fountain the black liquid had left.
Life became normal.
and the song was about to end. He could tell, he had never heard it through before, but he knew it was almost over.
And then it did, burning with the passion of every electron in beethovens body.
promplty after this, Tim fell asleep. He dreamed of falling. It was quite normal.
a flair of light illuminates half your face as a gray cloud, seemingly appearing from nowhere, covers the other half.
quickly dissipating smoke floats freely towards a heaven its creators get one step closer to with every [whhhhhhhhh].
fire creeps slowly, in the form of a cherry, towards lousy lips. they don’t care. they know they are safe from the burning hurt. another inhale, and the smoke travels first past your lips and then to your mouth, where taste buds greedily grab at all the particles they can get. this isnt a taste they feel, no its more of a thing, and this thing doesnt have a taste. this thing only burns and calms.
the thing is taken to the lousy lips again, which suck and pull the cherry closer and closer to them, almost trying to intimidate it into attacking them. the cherry doesnt listen, just sits quietly on the end of the thing, digesting it at the lung’s will, leaving behind only trash and bare elements.
meanwhile, the lungs are having a ball dealing with this new intruder. with each pull, a new set of invaders is ready to penetrate their defense systems. secretly, they know they have already lost, but this doesnt stop them from wanting to cough up everything in them at the moment. the invaders attack and attack, and after permeating bronchi and aveoli, seep into the blood stream. these attacks know directly where to go, to HQ. HQ is defensless. the invaders attack again, and HQ surrenders willingly. to HQ’s surprise, the attacks take over quite quickly, but only change one thing. calmness.
the body is taken over by calmness. the heart, which has been freaking out lately, stops its racing and starts its meandering. blood pressure decreases slightly, and adrenaline is kept at bay. shoulders slump, pupils dilate, and feet get comfy.
its relax time.
the cherry loses some of its tint. lousy lips get lazy. ash falls like volcano rain off of the thing, which now has become less a white and orange stick and now an orange and gray crumple.
grunting vocal chords and cold hands crush the cherry, kill it quickly, and in the process, the thing, against a rock. the comfy feet, feeling irritated from having to move, squash the last remaining life from the thing. but its left its scent among its user.
the top results, or the first 3 pages, consisted of white beaches with azul waters, and some sort of palm tree bent over them. maybe, if you were really lucky, a wooden house on stilts would be seen in the background.
sure, thats beautiful, but is it paradise? to spend eternity in a place like that would be sickening. it wouldnt take long for the sun to become just hot enough to be unbearable, for the water to be too sickly or salty, for the beach house to lack something or another.
paradise is a place that you go not to escape whats been bothering you, but is instead a place that helps you solve those problems. be it through work, a hobby, or just basic survival, this paradise will help you conquer what life can throw at you, but in a way that you enjoy it.
paradise for me? i wish i could say, when i see it, itll be on here.
I used to be under the notion that “talk is cheap” meant that you should talk and ask questions as much as you can. Turns out I was wrong. Talk is cheap. It’s cheap because everyone can do it, and do it easily. Talk can be wasted. Talk is wasted, it’s not something you covet or save for special occasions. So ask away, I guess, talk is cheap. It means little, it stands for little. Great ideas can be conceptualized in talk, but wasted without action. Action is pricey. Action is ballsy. Talk enough cheap talk though, and you might be able to buy yourself some action.
ever make up music video’s to the song you’re listening to?
for this one, its a car commercial. starts with just the wheels in a city nightscape. and then with each additional instrument, a new part of the car, such as a door shutting, is shown in a separate box, and they all loop. there would be no cheesy car commercial guy voice, just the serperate components reflecting parts of the song. and then cut out, all black screen with the name and brand of the car.