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Fw: Pt 5 Bardo- A Walk Along the Interstate

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  • Starving Buddha
    The end of a life once lived In a moment of weakness I let it all through. It ravaged upon me like a flood, the abysmal torrent of all my sadness and all my
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 8, 2004
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      The end of a life once lived

      In a moment of weakness I let it all through. It ravaged upon me like a flood, the abysmal torrent of all my sadness and all my regrets falling upon me suddenly, unexpectedly...

      The past coagulated in my mind-sight like a pus-scab hardening over a recent wound. How, I marveled in that moment unguarded, how had I kept it back for all this time?

      I saw her in my memories. She was the focus of all my wishes, my lusts, my desires... Everything I ever wanted could be summed up in her; she was the seed of my fertile passion, the womb pregnant with my want. Oh the madness it bore in me like a monstrous child!

      Her image haunted me... I yearned only to get away, to take her face from my thoughts, to relieve the painful emotional lancets cutting in my gut whenever her visage manifested itself.

      She became my despair, my anguish, my pain... A truth kept at bay as long as I pushed the memories away; as long as the present was filled with meaningless distractions, meant to leave nothing open, offering no chance for her to get in... Yet always just beyond the extremity of what I used to fill, she lurked, hiding, waiting...

      Forever in those empty spaces where I let my mind wander (did I let it wander? Or did she draw it) away from the present; it always found its way back to her... In fact, all the present was to me, was a reminder of her and the past of mine in which she forever resides...

      I feared thinking for I eventually thought only of her; I feared sleeping for she infected my dreams; I feared the future for I knew she was sure to be there; I feared living for I found she was the sole (soul) reason I was alive...

      Then, in that moment of weakness, never before had the future been so clear to me, and never before did I realize, that to save myself I saw what must be done, and what I must do to do it...

      Emotions may be what hold us together... Sometimes they are what tears us apart...

      Abruptly then Eye watched, it was as if Eye hovered above witnessing the events unfolding below.

      I placed a shotgun in my mouth and ate a round that then tore through my brain, leaving my mind a splattered mass of jelly sprayed randomly upon the wall behind me.

      Ironically, Eye stood brooding over myself looking down as my brain, the very substance of my memories, the very stuff of my splintered thoughts, the very organ of my being, trickled like liquid from a broken cup, oozing from a shattered cranial cavity into a viscous pool beneath my slumped-over torso.

      Desire has all come to this Eye thought, everything I ever wanted essentially added up to this morbid scene. This is what I got for my wishes...

      ****



      Vision sweeps past the banks of molds, approaching another place in this hellish factory engaging in what can only be called the industry of soullurgy...

      The dimming molten ingots were then dropped into large vats of water, where their superheated state clashed with the cooler temperature of the water, resulting in a continuous hiss of steam production, where white billowing plumes wafted upwards from the vats. The result of this sudden introduction to the chill of water hardens the tempered soul; those that meet the rigid standards of purity are now ready for re-shaping, those that do not, those that fail the startling process of annealing, surface from the water visibly cracked as their crystallized form shattered from the sheer shock of contrast... These are then discarded as substandard quality...

      As Eye watched the steady drip of remaining life-blood seep into an ever-expanding reservoir below my craned neck, Eye recalled the events that led me to such drastic conclusions, and realized just then, that what Eye got for what I gave, was not a fair trade...

      Eye reached forth to brush the blood encrusted hair from my face, in a vain effort to perhaps make this final image seem a bit more clean, more reasonable, perhaps to milk a bit of compassion from whomever would be the one fortunate enough to discover this mess I left behind; but to no avail, my touch is beyond even me now. My spectral hand just passed right through my corpse as if my death became an image, a mere afterglow... As if I became someone Eye could never know...

      Vision drifts in between listlessly, ebbing from one reality to another... Slowly the grip on either begins to fade. The senses recede into a gray haze where the sense of sight becomes engulfed in a dense fog. One is overwhelmed with the sensation of loosing touch. One is suddenly faced with the diminishing realization that one's own id-entity is slowly vanishing before one's eyes... The spectrums of colour which had previously differentiated one's individual perception begins to sink into shades of increasing darkness...

      Then, in the blackness of a cave, the Worm emerged...

      The pale skin held a chaotic array of lines barely perceptible until the light hit them just right. The appearance was like that of polished marble where the variegated swirls seemed as if veins just beneath the pallor of the surface. Upon closer examination one would find these swirls to be a network of cracks as if a marble statue had shattered, shattered yet retained its shape... The more one contemplates and the closer one peers, the more the flesh of this poor being is found to be in a world of pain.

      It spoke with a strangled voice as if its words were choked through a liquid medium:

      "I am your soul... Or at least what is left of it..." the Worm said, the lower portion of the face emerging a bit, revealing black, grossly rotted teeth hidden behind cracked, decaying lips; speaking, then receding back into the shadow; its words echoing through the hollow halls...

      Its movements are slow and articulated, fluid; an acute caution marks the careful anatomical placement of upper appendages as it goes from one calculated position to the next; as if it moves only what it needs to and not a bit more; as if even this is excruciatingly extreme.

      "Into this place was I cast, when proper release from the life-cycle was denied me..."

      While Eye watched, it curled into itself, a long snaking tail, slick from a stinking slime. It rocked its upper body forth and back, then writhed into a fetal embrace. A hissing moan exuded, releasing like a breath a bit of the agony that plagues it.

      Once again the face of my soul rises from the shadow, Eye finally see its eyes- black orbs as if a void, the abyss itself, were substantiated and made into an organ for sight... To look upon such a ghastly horror as this abomination, causes a fear that urges me instinctively to flee. It is as if the Worm senses this, and the pain of this knowledge hurts it even more, as if looking upon such a creature reflects back a pain the monster feels within itself, towards itself; and as Eye observed in disgust, blood-tears begin to flow from the curved optical orbits that are but mere spheres of nothingness trapped within a sickly seething form.

      "Life is but a larval stage-" the Worm spoke further, in a rather subdued manner- "and death the metamorphosis. It is then and only then that the beauty of the life lived is seen in its own after-glow..."

      The Worm's weeping discoloured the stone skin like rust streaks, mineralized seepage's that leave the stain of their presence after they have ceased flowing.

      "When the process is disturbed however, death is born and life vanquished as the light that is life is drawn deep into the wound that is the exit chosen...

      "The soul is then left to wander forever this labyrinth and others like it, these spaces that represent the extent the soul can express itself here in the perpetual dark.

      "There are many here in this damned place, but we never see one another; our eyes are not for seeing, but for grieving..."

      The Worm paused for a moment as if reflecting on what was just said, then went on-

      "We have nothing to work with here, so our endeavors are nothing more than crude attempts to carve out something, anything. Never anything more than a hole. We realize it is hopeless, yet we can only forever do what we were meant to do"

      The form turns its head away in shame, as if it felt itself not worthy to be looked upon by any eyes, especially mine; even though at one time, he and Eye saw things the same...

      Within the cavern that is the burrow of this Worm, it flees away into the darkness, its tail sucking up into one of the many holes that dot the walls; the Worm seeking asylum inside a random passage of the subterranean bowels that is its sole (soul) refuge...

      Then for a time, Eye am left to wander through these abandoned passageways in their complete darkness, seeing nothing and feeling even less...


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