i have never done any of this, yet it is entirely autobiographical.
this is a description of the visions I keep having-- premonitions in my dreams.
it occurs again and again, but the ending varies.
self destruction by virtue of one's own endeavours,
or ressurection of the will of the divine.
it's not really fantasy, but it's writing nonetheless.
i don't want to kill everyone else's posts, so just click here.
the sky is never truly black here, total darkness is a foreign thing.
"night" has a far different meaning to the people here than it does out in the country. Out here, night means the time when the streetlights are on and it's not quite as bright as daylight. Out in the country, "night" means just that, the world turns black and one can actually see the stars-- the untainted sky outside of the metropolis, where the sky isn't always painted a shade of gold and pink in the afternoon sun from the smog.
I can see a place different than this.
I can see myself somewhere else.
It's always been so easy living life in california, there are really only two seasons, the cold season and the hot season. Spring and Fall are practically nonexistant. Where else in the united states could you go outside and swim in your pool in the middle of january?
months come and go, flying by like leaves carried away by the wind, gone as soon as you know that they're there.
december comes. the sky is darkened with a constant curtain of deep gray overcast.
My stay in california-- the duration of my life previous to this moment-- has been lived out almost exclusively within the confines of the Los Angeles and San Fernando valley areas.
If you'd lived all your life in one place, and then you realized that there was more to the world than what was immediately around you, wouldn't you want to go see it, too?
I convinced myself once again that my ends justified my actions, that in the end sacrificing everything would be worth it.
Could I really convince myself to abandon my homeland?
The world outside is a scary place.
Outside of my homeland, winters are white, wet, and cold.
With that, I packed my things-- the few remaining material posessions I had that actually mattered to me, my clothes, a fistful of hundred dollar bills, and shoved everything I could fit into the car. As I started the engine, I looked back at my house for the last time, and left the neighborhood. I got onto the freeway like I always did, knowing it would be the last time my tires would ever make contact with these great rivers of asphalt that I loved so dearly. As I crossed into unfamiliar territory, new freeways, new cities-- I ceased existing to California. I wasn't a part of it anymore. I stopped just past stateline, just before sundown. I sat on the hood of my car and watched the sun sink over the mountains I'd just crossed. A little white rabbit scampered out from a scraggly looking bush, and darted across the street into an equally scraggly looking bush.
Like a newborn baby, being cut free of its umbelichal cord.
I was now something seperate, I no longer lived and breathed california, I breathed for me and me alone.
Four days later.
I woke up feeling groggy as usual, the naugahyde seats weren't quite as comfortable to sleep in while in really cold weather as they were when I was still in 70 degree temperature.
Out here, it was just barely a bone-chilling 30.
I found that myself and my little red Z-car had been blanketed overnight by a thin layer of snow, and now instead of being a solid red, it was red with a white frosting.
It's cold as hell would be if it froze over, so I decided to start the car and warm myself up.
I depress the starter button, but nothing happens.
in the middle of nowhere, covered in snow,
I face my demise. I open the door, in hopes that maybe snow plows have come by overnight, that maybe I'll be able to get some help. But my attire isn't right for walking in the snow. I'm cold, my face is redder than the car, my cheeks sting, and my hands are as cold as the ice itself. Each breath I took came with a puff of steam. It was very seldom when I could see my own breath back at home, and here, because of the temperature, it was especially noticable.
I remained seated on the naugahyde for a moment, and simply looked out at the scenery before me. The dense green timberland that I had pulled into during the dark hours of yesterday were now transformed. The forestland I had gone to sleep in had inverted hues whilst I slept.
All was still and quiet. The road was no longer anywhere to be found, the only proof that it was still there were the road markers along the sides peaking through the snow. Getting the car out of this turnout would have been quite a challenge, if I could have started it.
Presently something stirred about in the powdery white snow.
A rabbit. A white rabbit.
I simply watched it, fussing about and going through its routine. I was fascinated by it. Perhaps the cold had begun to play with my mind, because a rabbit should not be this interesting to anyone sane. Yet I remained there, totally still, for perhaps a half hour watching it before it scampered off into the timber from whence it likely came.
The heavens had opened up again, and once again tiny white flakes of snow fell from the sky.
Rather suddenly, I was no longer concerned with the possibility that I may very well die here in the snow. It no longer bothered me that the little white rabbit could very well be the last living thing I'd ever see.
How had I gotten here?
I couldn't remember why I had started this journey anymore.
I couldn't remember where I was going.
It was just so cold, now, all that I could think about was how warm the seats had gotten all of a sudden. My eyelids weighed tons, I struggled to stay awake. Everything was so warm, so light...
this ends here, one of two ways.
I couldn't stand it anymore. The weight of my eyelids had become too much for me to bear, and I closed my eyes for what would be the last time. Days would pass before anyone would happen upon my frozen body, and my little frozen Z-car.
hopeless, lost forever-- and as it would turn out... only about 10 miles away from our destination.
2. I pulled the door shut again, and pressed the starter button again while flooring the gas, straining just for one last time to save myself, and reach my goal.
The divine be with me, for there has always been an small locket affixed with the image of christ tucked away in the sunvisor.
The car made a noise this time, and after a second or two the engine clicked as it broke free of the ice that kept the engine's internals from moving. With a roar, the car had awakened, it lived and breathed, and was generating precious, precious heat.
I huddled myself up next to the airvent for a good ten minutes before I even attempted moving the car. Revving slowly, the car pushed itself through the light powder and back onto the road. With a flick of the wrist and a spin of the tires, I'm off again.
After another 10 miles of driving on icy, rough roads, there it is. The place I had struggled so far to get to. It too was caked with snow.
And just outside this I'd been trying so hard to arrive at, was the same white rabbit I'd seen from the time I'd left.
and thats where it ends.