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archelyxs — What is ten? Blue.
Published: 2010-08-11 20:30:53 +0000 UTC; Views: 1214; Favourites: 20; Downloads: 10
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Description
We are the ephemeral entities of insecurity & we slide across tundra psyches like secrets, stealing slivers of ice from faraway prototype clouds. We trek over kingdoms of guts & steel to validate our alchemy; we climb to the peak of strife to witness the death of eternal life.The morning passes & we sit idle, watching the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean—that infected gray eye that hides forever scarlet, flesh & bile under teardrops of minutes. We see its eyelid closing, perspiring lachrymose droplets of human spirit off onto the stoic shore. Leave it to two wayward saline molecules such as us to stay the same, as time ascends over matter & descends again under the weight of unsteady minutes. When adolescence bores us, we turn sinister, destroying worlds in the name of science. We scratch open time's skin, collecting samples of adrenaline & chaos, and subject it to our own selfish, anthropocentric manipulation.
You do the living while I do all the talking, and I don't mind, because you are someone who touches the heart of metaphysics & captures the soul of ends—realistically speaking, you live for me. But because I am a slave to my own curiosity, I know more than you can imagine. If I could find the strength to stretch your line of vision over the Earth's curve, I would take your questions & replace them with a universe of answers. If I could find the courage to wear my insides like a raincoat, a soft & fuzzy threadbare protection, I would show you that all the things you like about me, you like in yourself only. I would tell you stories of the greatest joys & endurance of the greatest sorrows. I would whisper laconic theories in your ear, like fate, time, —I want to eat you for breakfast, but you are asleep under a blanket of oxygen & sound waves and more at peace with the changing tide than any seagull parading its emptiness over the day. So instead I twist pieces of your orange hair between my fingers—strands of gold & tangerines intertwined like rivers—and I think of our continent & all the sleepers on it, & the physics that separates ambition from reality.
In this state of semi-awareness, I overhear conversations between the omnipresences of nature. The seagulls & the magnetic field pray to that which never tires, the eternity of now, while it murmurs ancient dogmas to the refulgent sun. And the ocean signs, —Live while you're alive to the deaf future, & the sand whispers to the ocean, —If you want my heart, inspire me.
—Well if that's true I mutter, grains of quartz & eroded memories squirming between my fingers —this boy beside me has my ribs & blood & lungs too, & the Earth beneath my feet, so how do you account for that? to which I am ridiculed, gently, for my unfortunate fleeting existence. —What can you know outside of yourself? the sunrise whispers. —Despite all that epistemological dust you have inhaled, you have yet to explore the universe inside of you. And you give yourself away, so blindly, unaware that you are all you have.
I blink in breezy nonchalance. I am a collection of water & carbon, but I dream of epochs & planar spheres, of astral projection, of reaching the end of my odyssey with an empty bag of souls cast over my shoulder, of meeting the melting point of being. If there's a universe, it's ours to keep. I have the Jersey Shore caught in my eyes, and when I cry for summer & the transient nebulae that envelop our coastline, you wipe away rivers with the tip of your finger, throwing footsteps & archetypal eggshells onto the elevated wasteland. The clouds bloom over us like fingerpainted roses, stealing across the sky to the atmospheric slaughterhouse where thoughts go to die, off, forever, fate, time, with the blue dolphins, with tomorrows for wings.
While sleeping, you gather material dreamscapes & attract distant days, and our sinister alchemy presses its spine against the glass levees of security that crash under the weight of love. You break my heart & put it back together again 100 times a minute, and this constant chaotic energy lets me float over the struggles of the disappointed world. I can't help but to lock up the most delicious details of a memory, because if I were to touch the sky, it would shatter, and pieces of clouds & engineered debris would fall like slanted rain. We must imagine more, so we will know the reward of our discovery when it comes for us.
—But in the end, we always become who we imagine ourselves to be.
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Comments: 49
EEEEEEE
It's not long. It's of perfect length. And awesome contentstylevoice. Er. I'm envious, hehe-- can't write like this ever. Such an amazing combination of abstract and concrete.
On to the actual [I hope] helpful bit--
"where thoughts go to die, off, forever, fate, time, with the blue dolphins, with tomorrows for wings."
--Not sure about this. Might come off as forced, since you've included so many broad concepts within a single sentence-- personally, I'd cap it at two or three. Let the reader breathe. And it seems a little too chopped up-- thoughts / concepts / dolphins / wings. Hm. And it seems to randomly contrast with the simple-but-thoughtful-bits at the end of the other paragraphs. you might like to move it ro the last paragraph. Again, I don't really know.
"I blink in breezy nonchalance." Seems like 1 word too many-- "I blink breezily" or "I am in breezy nonchalance" or "I blink with nonchalance" might flow better. I prefer the second one, finding it more potent, but hm. Perhaps it's because "blink" is usually used for "I blink in surprise", thus the connotation makes the breezy nonchalance slightly confusing. "I close my eyes" [or a prettier variation]?
"You do the living while I do all the talking, and I don't mind, because you are someone who touches the heart of metaphysics & captures..."
-- Maybe 'You do all the living"? Or remove the "all" altogether? Now it seems, eh. What about "you touch the heart of..."-- it seems to flow better and not chunk this up.
Thank you for giving us this opportunity to rediscover your work and still don't seem like a stalker, harhar.
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Oh, you are so beautiful, and stalk away, love.
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Guh. This is amazing. The introspection, the examination of the human heart and our world- it's beautiful and stunning and oh, your words are so true. I think that's the most amazing part. It's beautifully crafted and eloquent and uniquely fascinating and it's the truth. -flails- I was actually reluctant to fave it, because I think it transcends what I have in that collection. But. I had to. I won't even bother trying to pick out my favorite lines. I adore the dialogue. I think I could fall in love with words like these. 
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Thank you so much, this is a piece of extreme personal value to me so your compliments mean eightfold of what you believe.
I'm glad you can find truth in this, it is one of the few honest works of mine and I'm glad that shone through. And I'm glad you like the dialogue, I'm weak at that. Quite weak. So it means a lot.
And trust me, what is in my head is chaos 95% of the time- this is a product of those rare hours when inspiration and mental clarity coincide.
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i love the way the words interlock 
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Thank you so much! I agree. (:
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i adore the conversation between you and the sunrise. utterly captivates imagination.
and you should get into college on the weight of your comments discussion alone.
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Haha I agree. If only they knew. (:
Thank you, I like that bit too.
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...I'm going to check your entire gallery out. My God you can write.
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Thank you, it means so much to hear that (:
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such a flair you have for magnificent descriptors. but even those appear as wonderful powder coat for your million year old questions, which they themselves struggle to defy your investigation and understanding. thoroughly enjoyable.
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Thank you. I'm a narcissist, I promise. Everything I write is only for me. When it means something to someone else, that's a pleasant bonus.-
This is especially close to my heart as it is about an experience I actually had, and I remember watching the sunrise and running some of those descriptors through my mind over and over again, desperate to commit them to memory- it's funny how much we can capture.
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What I especially enjoy when reading your work, is the depth of your description. It's as if you have found each and every word, so that it is perfect for the meaning you are trying to express. You don't dodge the greater language, you find THE word for sentence. The imagery is so expressive and delightful to read, "serrated lights" is particularly good in my opinion (as well as many more lines - just one example!) because you are implying the general knife/blade imagery of light rays, but not pounding that thought at the reader, rather, you slip it into the paragraph subtely and allow the reader to come to their own conclusions. Love it
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Thank you
I know what you mean and it's a learned skill- the ability to tap into that part of your mind that makes connections unconsciously, constantly, a thousand times per breath, and fish out phrases like "serrated lights" that literally don't make much sense but are the bravest way- it's more about being fearless- writing what makes sense to you and not caring about what it means to others- that is what separates great writers from the bunch, how boldly they believe in themselves & their words.
Once you train that part of your mind, you will find those thoughts come as often as observations of the time and ruminations about love & daydreams, and the only thing that bars them from becoming great literature is the physical act of typing, that can easily achieved with a computer and a cup of coffee, and time, that has been known to stand still for moments of pure genius.
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Yes,having no fear and showing bravery in your writing which proves you write for no one, just to express yourself, is truly the greatest work. Writing is all about creativity and like a painting, should shimmer with every colour of the English language. So being bold as you say is imperative.
Love the way you've written that paragraph. Training your mind. Yes that is very important, once you take an interest in the language, words will stick with you and sew themselves together carefully over those moments of pure genius, when the idea doesn't quite become a blanket of inspiration, but rather a tapestry or patchwork. I feel that the ideas that don't seem to join corner to corner, avoid making a box to trap your thoughts and instead, define a surface development to a pop up design, which endeavors to stand out from the crowd!
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Exactly...ideas are flighty creatures themselves, scattering all around, we try to reign them in and sometimes we succeed but more often we don't
Let them come, don't struggle.
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you literally made me slow down as i was reading, its pace is perfect. you're really wonderful at channeling your emotions. seriously, you're so talented. whenever i wonder how or even if its worth it to express them (thoughts), you seem to have the perfect answer.
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Ah, thank you so much. I read this again every chance I get, there's something squirming, eating me alive that's captured in this piece and when I read it over I remember why I put myself through everything, and all is swell.
I was afraid that this was the epitome of all my writing lately- too much pretty language without enough meaning- but the meaning is there. It's subtle, it takes the backseat, but it's there. And even if I couldn't find it, the language is still so freaking gorgeous. If I may say so myself.
And it's always worth it to express them, trust me.
Form to every feeling,
expression to every thought,
reality to every dream.
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thats quite inspiring- i'm in the need of some inspiration. and you may most certainly say so- its just too loud too miss, even by the person who wrote it. it is freaking gorgeous. but i honestly would not like it so much if i didn't catch the burning, ardent meaning of it all.
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Inspiration is for amateurs. Don't wait for it. Seek it and you will find it. Inspiration is all around you, constantly. It's actually overwhelming- the difficulty is deciding what is the most inspiring out of all the inspirations that affect us daily.
I'm glad that it comes through.
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I will try, that makes a lot of sense. I guess i just don't want to write at the moment. Then again, inspiration isn't only for poetry- its more of a way of life. I suppose then, i should let myself be inspired.
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That's okay. Only write what you must, what's screaming inside of you to get out. Leave the rest to simmer.
And yes, that's the way to live.
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This is really awesome. And the dialogue was one of my favorite parts, I love the whole idea of it, just communing with the world (specifically the sunrise, of course), and how it's very introspective even though you're focused outside yourself.
That's how I understood that part, anyway
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Thank you so much,
this piece is very personal to me, sand and tears and hours upon hours went into it so it means a lot that you like it.
It is introspective in the sense of seeing how the self relates to others- nature, infinity, love, language, growth...
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Exactly! But really, I won't even get started on how the self relates to all that stuff or I'll never shut up.
It's so important though. Introspection can so easily become simple self-indulgence if you forget the rest of the world.
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Ah, thank you so much for saying that last sentence.
I think that pretty much sums up my entire 2010.
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You are welcome. I know for me it tends to happen when something bad comes along, so I hope that wasn't the case for you.
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Ah, no. To me it's like you said, a simple self-indulgence...
My life goes up and down. The winter was devastating but this past summer has been nothing short of phenomenal.
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Well good, glad I was wrong about that, and that this summer was good to you too, that's awesome.
But yeah, life does that. It's just easy to forget it goes up when it's going down. For me, anyway.
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Yep. I agree, completely. (:
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"True progress means matching the world to the vision in your head :replied the sunrise: but you always change the vision instead :."--the essence of the whole piece! in the midst of this beautiful symphony you create, the whorl of which swirls around this one seed of truth, you present everything in the truest terms of itself (or rather, and most importantly, yourself) --at the perfect moment, allowing your feeling and meaning to both funnel downward, compacting to this one point, and also to build up from the bottom upward, both a mound of gold and a skyscraper with its needle point. marvelous! i quote that line more for my sake, to better remember it--i would otherwise end up quoting the whole thing to show what i loved about it. 
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Ah thanks. That line's from a Thrice song- I don't typically like to use someone else's words to describe what I'm thinking but it kept rushing to my head as I was writing this piece, and I had to fit it in there somewhere.
This is very personal to me. It's a rough sketch of the past few months, combined into one morning- I actually did watch the sun rise over the ocean with someone special who has tangerine hair- and because this piece is some abstract version of my reality, I love it more than anything. It means so much to me that you like it.
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ah yes, that's how it all happens, over time and then all at once--and our abstractions are so wonderful simply because they are our own, a living part of us, both entirely separate and infused. like it? i love it!
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Yes. Just...yes.
I love it too.
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Almost 17, and thanks!
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i love the end. i love all of it.
i had a favourite line, but i then realised that everything about this is my favourite.
& about the dialogue tags: i do not like them. they random colons are distracting to my eyes. i feel like you could break it up like:
-- Well if that's true, I muttered _____
-- (next line)
-- (next line)
or just one dash, not two. but those are just my suggestions.
i love it. lovelovelove it.
so fucking much. <3
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Thank you so much! A lot of work went into this, haha. And it's very personal, so I'm glad you like it. It took me forever to write.
I thought about changing them to dashes, but I've done that before and wanted to explore even further outside of the realm of quotes.
Your support means stars to me dear.
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you are very welcome. (:
i can see the effort. it's just brilliant.
yours does the same to me, dear.
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You are so, so kind.
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i'm only being honest. <3
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: True progress means matching the world to the vision in your head :replied the sunrise: but you always change the vision instead :.
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