A new Garden opened near my house.
I enjoy the flowers and taking care of them, though I am not as good at it as I’d likeI’ve a feeling that there are a lot of us – who are really enthusiastic about flowers and plants, but at times it just doesn’t work out.Such an amazing opportunity to go and take a look at new breeds of flowers, bushes, trees - plainly just to enjoy the flora itself.For me - it’s art. Plants differ from one another, yet all seem in so much harmony.
There are great architects specialising in creating landscapes that change each season – using plants, knowledge and imagination.Usually I’m alone during my walks, to savour the moments, but today I had Orchid accompanying me.Orchid wanted to take some time to understand my point of view regarding flowers. She is not fond of the whole idea and process. She said it is too time consuming – that you have to care for it. That's another point of view.We were pacing through the arch of wisteria. Purple flowers hung above us. Like the garden of the mythical goddess - guiding us with this passage to meet the goddess herself.Orchid struck a question. Once again – not minding the joy I had, nor time and place.“Why is it that humans are so much into not liking differences? Why do they have problems with how they look or where they live? Even with their preferences in love? Does it not come as weird to be pointing out the differences and disliking them without understanding them?”This girl had to bombard me with diverse questions when I was feeling all good and fuzzy.Not that she looked like it, but she had this odd habit of getting me uncomfortable. Perhaps it was somehow related to her – the questions she asks. Yet she does crash them questions on me, when I’m off guard. Irritating.We walked across a little stand. I bought a bottle of flower wine and in silence walked to a bench that was conveniently hidden behind the corner of the next passage.
Whiff of the chrysanthemum scent caught me. We sat down. I got out a glass that the seller gave me with a wine bottle. After a little struggle I opened the wine. The deep maroon was poured. Mellow was a fragrance that waffed towards me.In the corner of my view - Orchid was staring me down. No escape from the ‘needed’ lecture, is there?“Not really sure how to approach such a topic.” - I took a deep breath, looked at passing by creatures of this world, enjoying wine. Marvellous taste. - “In the human world, when a person is born - it’s born into the world that has toxicity - which is being taught and burned into the brain from the moment he appears.”I took a deep breath, shook head, and in a moment went on.
“Such happens due to the fact that the ancestors were through experiences, which lead them to believe that differences are bad. People with another colour are pinned with some sort of specific criteria and stereotypes. Then there’s another sort of preferences in love or bounds - all looking atrocious and heretic to the previous generations. Elders teaching you that only your place of birth is one to be prayed for and only one that shall accept you.”I smirked in bitterness, as I downed a glass and poured more.
“Unfortunate path for the adventurer it might seem. But there are brave souls. Ones, who despite the words they heard and took in - allowed their soul and heart to seek the answers to all pending questions on their own. So they begin their travels.”“These adventurers take it upon themselves to see with their own eyes and hear with their own ears. For what these ‘others’ are different, or have in common with each other, or reasons why they made their decisions.”“Throughout the time spent with the rest of the world, they learn to see that different skin colour is nothing to be frightened of. They all remain the same human beings within one race. They share the fact that they have goals in life. They also breathe and hope, believe and work, possess the body and communicate.
They care about their families, whether the family is a good town, country or few close people - it does not matter. They all have needs, they eat, they sleep, they seek pleasure. So why are they still viewed by others as a threat?”
I gave a short look in Orchids direction. She stood watching passers by, yet maintaining the best concentration to my words she could muster in this moment.
Giving a little head shake I continued.“Ones who are not afraid to express themselves - become a cause of threat for their open soul. For the wish of being with others, or just someone they love and care for. When it was all about conquering the land and showing strength - it seemed appropriate for male to have a male as a lover. It was even quite a strange occurrence if a man did not select another man for a lover.”
“Women were just the same as men. Allowed to love one another, or whomever they choose, and it was all a part of the norm. Then as it took a turn, the changes started to occur. Then men were meant to only stay with women. To be a pair within despair, who on the side, hiding in shadows, were available to gasp the joy of same sex love and intercourse.”“As, in their later opinion, such a move is viewed as ‘not normal’, something out of stories of the devils and angels. Then religions came to pressure people - to make them look in the direction which satisfied someone above. I can truly call it rubbish.”“No one, not a single soul besides yours can judge your decisions or choices - judgement from others is the learned “norm” of acceptance and obedience. They were not teaching logical sense and integrity for what they really are.”“Then time later - people rejoiced for being able to, alas, not hide their love and family, which may consist of same sex couple. It is not bad, or hideous - it never was.”“But as they started to accept the ways of nature, there appeared those who're still frightened by such norms of life and nature. They lack the vision and understanding that rules which were made in history were made by Humans.”“There are no creatures that control us or judge us from aside. There’s only soul - possessed by each and every one of us. Perhaps not scientifically proven to have merits that can be understood. And actions which we take are only to be judged by us. Based on love, logic and common sense nature.”“So in the sense... When differences are viewed as natural, when strange is being part of life. When others stop to make up rules which nature did not provide, stop trying to conquer the world, stop making up the horrid stories of the encounters that weren’t faced… Which then become the awful lot of new toxic rage of rules against the others. Instead - accept and be open, learn, help, cooperate, empathize - that could lead to norms of nature.”“I can’t deny the natural selection. Yet there are weaklings that end up being the toughest ones. Not always physical strength overcomes the mental strength.”
“Wise men and women are the ones who keep the sanity in a mad world. Although endlessly told they’re possessed by evil of some sort. I always see that. The highly referred evil - is just hatred and lack of knowledge of one who speaks of it.”“We, just like them, in our world have hate and love. It’s just that our teachers make us learn that knowledge, work, ideas, free expressions and love - are ones for making progress. Yet there is a whole dark place - which is within some of us. It was proven greatness to know and understand the dark, but chose the light. Or even live, whilst maintaining both.”
“With these components we’re made. That’s what makes us. And the choices we make. Thus each decision is your own. You craft your life and are the one to live it.”“The things that differ should only let us get closer. Learning and understanding them strange things and making them become a part of what we all are.”My throat was dry from all this yapping. I downed a whole glass of wine. Amazing potion.Orchid was bored, yet trying to maintain composure. Guess the philosophy I lecture can be to some - endlessly boring.I put the glass down, pouring the last of the wine, then swiftly finishing the last of the fine drink. My head tilted back, eyes glued to iris hanging, leaves and petals fluttering in the soft breeze.
Another pang of pain in my head. That suffocating feeling and dire wish to burst in tears. My muddled mind once more starts to whisper “My Light…”, as this odd yearning comes again.
The strange sadness and sentimentality is really frustrating.After a harsh wind gust - rain poured down. Petals fell with raindrops on all that was underneath. As they fell - they looked magical.The shower of the blue and purple. Although it felt like a part out of my memory, like I’ve seen something similar before. Yet I knew well that it was my first - observing such a scene.“We should go home.” - exhaled Orchid. The frown on her face stated her disgust with the weather.We stood up and walked through this flower rain. My feet walking towards the wine stand - to get more flower wine.
“So, ones who nag the differences are simply afraid or taken over by hate. They fail to understand why such an occurrence takes place. That makes sense.” – Orchids' voice sounded like robot. The frown deepening on her face.
“It’s not the best of explanations, but that is one I see as true.” - I spoke, paying for wine.
I asked her to go home first, as I’d still wanted to enjoy more wine and flowers. Without any debate, just plain disgust with the weather, she left.
I walked back to the bench I sat on. No passers by. Somehow the garden became deserted.
The petals felt like kisses all over my face. My coat got soaked, the nape of my neck collected petals. Somehow I felt like this rain was giving me its blessing. Like before…
Before…
I opened the bottle and drank straight from it. My tears blurred vision, falling down. Rain was adding up to my feelings.
Once again the lump in my throat, the pain in my chest, and the suffocating feeling grew larger.With no one there to see - I wept.
“My Light… My Light…” - I mumbled under my breath, choking on sadness that washed over me.
I watched the petals fall, as the rain grew heavier. Thunder and storm befell this region.
Drinking this sadness down, I found solace in roaring thunder. It felt familiar, it warmed my heart.
After I finished wine - I walked home.
“That’s not my home. Never was.” - Thoughts protested, as legs stumbled on.
/ErickInsomnia - greatest self-destructive system. It comes out when you are troubled, floating somewhere in between reality and dream.My only safe place, no matter where and how... I’m drawn to the kitchen.It seems quite strange by many means. As I, grown-up, sit on the kitchen floor. Hands holding a cup of coffee, eyes staring into space. Like that shadow over there is the answer to something that is bothering me.But all I really see is just the hollow nothingness of that point blank I stare into. The dreams of dying ‘Light’ recently keep me up through the night.Somehow this bit of cold place called the kitchen is just where I feel safe. In a way, like in a story by Banana Yoshimoto “Kitchen”, yes, somehow to some of us it is the best place to “hide”. This moonlit darkness, in blue hues, really makes me feel at ease.When I was in the room, on his bed... His bed?Head shook a few times, fingers brushing through hair.“Who is Light? What have I forgotten?” - thinking to self, as
/ErickDawn - with darkness fading, it’s getting brighter.Still in bed. Feeling the warmth of sheets on my skin. Breathing in chilly air.Oh, I did leave the window opened for the night.Cannot recall the dream I had. As the morning goes - have to get up. Today there’s plenty of work in need of my attention.Getting up from the bed was the toughest part. My tendency of liking towards the warmth is bigger than love for cold. Fetching next to bed my long sleeve shirt and jeans to wear for today.Although it’s the end of summer, yet mornings are pretty chilly. Thin frost clinging to petals, grass and trees, covering houses and window sills. I find it fascinating to observe the transition from the crystals of cold into the tiny water drops. That eventually falls down or evaporates, uncovering a world with enhanced contrast.My room looked like a schizophrenic mess created by some stray artisan, who went through here as a gust of wind. Multiple canvases, books, paints, brushes, papers wit
/ElyonSo called “entertaining” day at work. Meetings, documentation, preparations, chatting about mundane matters and making jokes about the strangeness of the life cycle. One might say it’s a typical work day.I had my research in stacks. Each representing a specific topic related to the general file, that read - “Erick Sparrow /Lazy Cat/”.Few knew that I became his house mate just to figure out the strange occurrence of the logical irrationality. Sadly to say, Lazy Cat was my experiment patient, who gave the strange information. He seemed like the fine person, up until the point when he was expressing the involvement with this parallel universe and a strange person he relates to.At first it seemed like an appearance of alter ego. Maybe due to false information which could plunder into his head from someone or something. But with every passing day this hypothesis began to clash and crumble. It was not supported by any reasonable explanation. Erick was an absolutely strange patient
/ElyonSituation became entwined. No longer things seemed the same. Definitive statement of change over 13.1%. Brain can notice the difference, if the difference is around 13.1% or more.This case was just a rich mass of things that could not add up.I kept on looking at my screen. Reading my own words that I typed, but couldn’t believe in. Most normal beings would not believe such strange ‘natural’ occurrence. Something like, another creature showing up in front of your eyes? And even conversing with you?My report looks like a bag of crazy. How am I supposed to explain the situation? How do I explain something I encountered for the first time?Writing up a report - task of extraordinary difficulty. No matter how much I looked over the situation - solutions of the right words didn’t come.I went over the details of creature projections, of particle magnetism, light reflections, clusters and flows. These could be nothing of the same feel and view I’ve seen. Astral projections? Is that
/Elyon...Running through the city, not looking back, frightened.There is something unknown chasing you.You run into a small alleyway behind the nearest building.Everything your eyes look upon – broken, devastated. War recently finished, leaving a ruined town.I’m left with a beast that is chasing me, with an urge to kill.This endless feeling of fear. Kind of fear that is gripping your throat, making you unable to scream for help, unable to let out a word, your body shaking, your mind constantly paranoid.Right then - someone, another one of my kind, takes my hand and pulls me away. To the inside of the building, closing doors behind. Carefully. Silently. This someone keeps pulling me further along, holding my hand. Up the stairs, hall, another flight of stairs, hallway and stairs again. Though I’m pulled by this stranger, I can’t make out how this person looks. He or she? But this person is just soundlessly floating through the halls.We reach the top floor, open the old wooden d
/ElyonShe let out a short giggle and went back to making coffee. I opened my eyes, feeling my cheeks burn.“I see you haven’t got your cherry popped yet. So sweet.” - Her sarcastic remark made me beet red.She was absolutely calm - making coffee like nothing had taken place. Like nothing happened.Her voice made me get back to the time of “now”.“At times,” - She began, - “I feel like me and Erick are like shadow and light. I prefer the role of the supporter, from side lines, just keeping watch over from shadows. Therefore I’m a shadow. Fully aware of Erics’ fame and success as a good artisan. He is fine, young and in momentum. Has more of the inner “prosperity”, as he once said.” - She grabbed onto the coffee pot handle, - “I’ll take it with us, so we can enjoy chat outside without worrying about refill.”Niko took cups to the conservatory. With a little fiddling - she opened the side touch pad navigation of the room. After pressing commands in - the soft mechanical sound buzzed. Fr
/DavidI stood watching changes outside the window: skyscrapers, smog, people, cars, noises – forever running engine. In the reflection of the window - seeing self with my hair white, eyes brown-green, figure slim, wearing jeans and holding a glass of whiskey. In the background - the sound of shower turning down, then a person walks into the room.“Are you sure Niko won’t damage them badly? Because I am definite that her indulging in sweet temptations shall pull that girl at risk.”- I turned to face my lover. - “Erick, are you listening?”“Ehh… So? She does what she feels like. As long as it doesn’t cause any problems for me - I am not getting involved in what she does. She has her way of sorting problems.” – Erick breathed out as he was getting dressed. – “And why would she concern you now, huh, David?”Erick gave me a jealous glance. I kept my cool, as I downed my whiskey.“Cat, you’re not the only one having a relationship with Niko. I shall remind you that there is more than just
/DavidRoar of car engine. Classical music playing on the radio. It’s Schuberts piano sonata number 16. Surely this piano gives off some chills, but in a way - it gives a feeling of strife, push for something - as if you’re on your way to a greater manifesto.Road ahead is packed with vehicles - all doing their best to keep up with the flow of traffic. That emerged due to the end of the working day for many.Flood of mechanisms and engines. A hell for the manufacturers and energy consumers. The beauty of the light propellers, the ghastly fear of bad retailers. The advertisements on the side of cars - like battle scars.And what? It’s all possessed or in possession, ownership, discretion of creatures that consume the air, that shit and yell. And stare at you through tanned dyed bodies.A great conveyor belt created marvel - stacked nobodies.Well, maybe somebodies - wearing finest painted, crafted, tailored masks.Put on daily for convenience of interaction, to keep abstraction in the