In 2491, on the top of Everest, sat one of Aresteo’s best friends who used to spend his weekends on the pool. The gut was a Yoga teacher on his free time after work. Despite the long working hours in the mine field, he used to be eager calling his girlfriend every thirty minutes; that pissed off his boss.
She felt bad about that and decided to ask her sister how to get rid of him. Well, this must be done during our annual carnival were no one can recognize the gun shots. And so was it; they are all dead by now.
Anybody could admire such fiction called’’ Meet the dead’’?; A handful out there.
Is it an absolute necessity to know
who you essentially are or even what have you been so far? Conscious to be or
not to be? Who do you really want to be; do you choose skin color, name; non-I suppose?
Till the moment your soul starts to rise- the search continues; endlessly;
still who do you think you are? A musician, a carpenter or rarely a tennis
champion; Who cares? Do you care? Never mind, it has never been any of your
business; aliens know it better; they sculpt your identity, soulmate,
eventually your cemetery. Will that get you angry in a moment? Are you solid
worthy; one day she will be your presence.
Where radical events pull you into
stinky unexpected presence, a passenger; is that you? Are you clearly defined?
Can you be felt, smelled, or even once be loved in every exclusionary
perspective as you escape a forest of unfriendly animals. A habitat in the
middle of nowhere. Liberty seems a primarily faded illusion. Lay in peace as
long as being overwhelmed by uncertainty rather unpredictable rigid eroded iron;
a promise to a mysteriously spoiled necessity is largely what it is. Is it?
Still anxiously doubtful.
A frugal life is all what he offered. Kindness was a rare corner stone of the relationship. His sluggish emotions pulled down the woman in her. Night falls, curtains waved the day goodbye. Her nails grew penetration her soft rosy skin; finger bleeds without pain. Memories retrieved of summer hiking. Outgoing was painless as she was only twenty-three years younger than him. Face down walking by her school that she abandoned for luxury; still he insists to walk her by every semester, just to fulfill his ego possessing a Barbie; well it might be worth it. As time flew, embedded determination shaped midnight’s reactions, she whispers: honey, it is just about time to turn on the fireplace that Dad destroyed when Mum left forever without a notice leaving it beyond repair. However, it still pools hot tears on his white beard. Thoughts drifting off sharpening ugly memories of stylish life.