The man in the woods, hiking for days and days - very-un edited. Watch for typos, they may trip you.
He comes upon a rock enclosure, cave like but the 'roof' is bidding in many places. wandering into a cave, going towards a dim light that seems far away, but he quickly meets the source. Like, a stage light, there are a row of seats though they dont look like they are meant to be sat is. Place markers maybe A spot to stand in a straight line withe everyone else. The seats are covered in red velvet tat seems to be alive, but when any pressure is put on the seat bottom itself is swings straight downward, forming the base of a long red velvet tablet that responds to touch.
So he stood there, at the seat. Initially he was alone except for one elderly gentleman all the way at the far end, which surprised him as he had been out wandering the hillsides for days and had not seen another human in that time. The elderly man never made eye contact but did offer a slight nod of the head to acknowledge the presence of myself.
In front of us was a large platform, dark and made of fallen trees and flat rock, but beautifully made with intention. In this I was him, but Im also not him. at some points he is me and I am him and we are separate. so ...
What past felt like a few seconds, but my feet began to ache from the days walk and I looked around for somewhere to sit down, but before I cold move my body there was a thunderous roar of applauds, lights came on, running along the ground, many other rows of not really seats appeared, all the same red velvet, giving off heat , each one gently heaving as though they have life in them. And people! People at every seat, all around me. My row, the last to be filled quickly filled top in the following moments with children, adults, old and young. All of us had our shoes dirtied from the mud outside the caves entrance which was now dark with night. The moon was our spotlight and the twinkling of the stars outside, and even over head made the moment feel like a glamorous event.
A person walked out onto the stage. Wearing a fine jacket, made of the same material the not actually seats, matching trousers and shimmering white shoes with black soles. They click and clap as he walks across the stage, one way and back the other. Almost like trying to find the right angle in the lighting , to be seen. Yet to intentional, like he is creating lines and bringing them back together, drawing an image with his feet maybe.
He settles in a spot and begins to speak. I can understand him, but he has more than one voice. They work together all saying the same thing but in different words. Languages maybe. And he spoke in more than. One voice, and all the voice sang in harmony together. When he spoke it was a beautiful song, welcoming us all to our doom. Into death.
And then he juggled.
Big wooden balls, like bocce balls or oversized croquet balls. Spotted and stripped, each a different color. His hands moved so quickly it was a swirling of colors and into this he pulls in sticks, brought black sticks, rough black sticks. They sounded like sandpaper against his gloves and when the show slowed and he tossed the balls into the crowd leaving only two sticks in his hands he began to clang them together and they made a terrible sound. Sand paper that shreds and music that made my skin hurt.
Here you all are! This is it. You’re finally, and colorful lights, flames, waterfalls , clouds and organic matter forming a spectacle of lights, sound , miniature mountains and hillsides, felids and forests erupt from the stage bellow to all around him. It looks similar to an old Popeye cartoon, or… I wish I had the words.
Mountains in the back, green hills with waterfalls and rivers flowing through the forests to the felids. Teensy tiny perfect flowers dotted the hillsides and the fields.
You had it all and you gave it all away, and for what?
Bye forever.
And everything went into blackness. It became cold. He wasn’t aware of anyone around him, anything around. Nothingness. He couldn’t form a thought or feel a thing.
And then. I woke up. But I wasn’t asleep so much as unaware of being awake.
Do you ever do that?
Have a moment that a screen scrolls through your head, but its not a dream. No context, no anything. Just happens.
I dont do this often, the last time was about a long boy in jain being fed dead dried mice and maggots.
In these moments I can feel the heat, the cold, the rock, the wood. Its all very real.
My brain is weird.
So he stood there, at the seat. Initially he was alone except for one elderly gentleman all the way at the far end, which surprised him as he had been out wandering the hillsides for days and had not seen another human in that time. The elderly man never made eye contact but did offer a slight nod of the head to acknowledge the presence of myself.
In front of us was a large platform, dark and made of fallen trees and flat rock, but beautifully made with intention. In this I was him, but Im also not him. at some points he is me and I am him and we are separate. so ...
What past felt like a few seconds, but my feet began to ache from the days walk and I looked around for somewhere to sit down, but before I cold move my body there was a thunderous roar of applauds, lights came on, running along the ground, many other rows of not really seats appeared, all the same red velvet, giving off heat , each one gently heaving as though they have life in them. And people! People at every seat, all around me. My row, the last to be filled quickly filled top in the following moments with children, adults, old and young. All of us had our shoes dirtied from the mud outside the caves entrance which was now dark with night. The moon was our spotlight and the twinkling of the stars outside, and even over head made the moment feel like a glamorous event.
A person walked out onto the stage. Wearing a fine jacket, made of the same material the not actually seats, matching trousers and shimmering white shoes with black soles. They click and clap as he walks across the stage, one way and back the other. Almost like trying to find the right angle in the lighting , to be seen. Yet to intentional, like he is creating lines and bringing them back together, drawing an image with his feet maybe.
He settles in a spot and begins to speak. I can understand him, but he has more than one voice. They work together all saying the same thing but in different words. Languages maybe. And he spoke in more than. One voice, and all the voice sang in harmony together. When he spoke it was a beautiful song, welcoming us all to our doom. Into death.
And then he juggled.
Big wooden balls, like bocce balls or oversized croquet balls. Spotted and stripped, each a different color. His hands moved so quickly it was a swirling of colors and into this he pulls in sticks, brought black sticks, rough black sticks. They sounded like sandpaper against his gloves and when the show slowed and he tossed the balls into the crowd leaving only two sticks in his hands he began to clang them together and they made a terrible sound. Sand paper that shreds and music that made my skin hurt.
Here you all are! This is it. You’re finally, and colorful lights, flames, waterfalls , clouds and organic matter forming a spectacle of lights, sound , miniature mountains and hillsides, felids and forests erupt from the stage bellow to all around him. It looks similar to an old Popeye cartoon, or… I wish I had the words.
Mountains in the back, green hills with waterfalls and rivers flowing through the forests to the felids. Teensy tiny perfect flowers dotted the hillsides and the fields.
You had it all and you gave it all away, and for what?
Bye forever.
And everything went into blackness. It became cold. He wasn’t aware of anyone around him, anything around. Nothingness. He couldn’t form a thought or feel a thing.
And then. I woke up. But I wasn’t asleep so much as unaware of being awake.
Do you ever do that?
Have a moment that a screen scrolls through your head, but its not a dream. No context, no anything. Just happens.
I dont do this often, the last time was about a long boy in jain being fed dead dried mice and maggots.
In these moments I can feel the heat, the cold, the rock, the wood. Its all very real.
My brain is weird.
