Daydreaming. There I find out what I should have become, what I should have done. This make believe place that allows me to throw the dizzying array of curses at my boss or co-worker as they smile snidely past me as they speak. This place that allow to reenact the scenes that haunt me. Words, motions, colors, where I was and how they stood and all of this to help bury the shame, frustration, and pain that crawls up the back of the throat when the mind wanders that direction when not sufficiently occupied with the menial tasks of the day. Come with me and take the place of me on my latest daydream.
Eventually the mind either by force of thought or suffering from the torrents of terrible daily grind. The need for some escape for the deeper part of the soul seeks it way from the Tomb that we have sealed it in. The marker of which is guarded by the three headed lawyer, Need, Want, and Desire. His pin stripped suit the so many colors of hate and self loathing, with his three heads bobbing around fighting for position to see you with each one of his six eyes. He holds the key to the gate made from the bones of dreams abandoned by logic to fulfill the legal wishes of our minds.
The Lawyer asks you for your reason to visit the entombed? You say, ‘To set it free. It screams to me, through the mist that escape the ground around the Gates of Broken Dreams‘. He laughs at you, and asks again, ‘What is your reason for visiting the entombed?’ You looked into Desire’s eyes, and say, ‘I seek my soul to hear what I wanted to hear, what I remember my heart telling me so many years ago when my desires did not take on the suit of logic and order.’ Want laughs at you, the other heads fold back to allow the Want, full use of the only set of lungs the body has. ‘You desire it free, but you want not for nothing for freedom yourself do you not? ‘ You say, ‘I do seek my souls freedom’. Want’s smile sickly reaches to both sides of it face and he says, ‘You desire Soul to be free, yet you bound it in chains when you sought lies and passions over virtue did you not?’ Wants’ head rotates back to allow Desires throat to engage the lungs of the body and he said, ‘Did you not desire a wage, a hand in marriage, a house, a car, clothes to cover you, food to feed you, a job,’ ‘STOP’ you yell. Desire continues, ‘Really?’ it questions one of the bodies arms flies up and grabs sick yellow hair of Desire’s skull and yanks it to one side, Want’s wicked gleam slides itself onto the throat, ‘So, what is it that you want?’ The hand comes back to force the head to move aside, and Desire’s flesh reconnects to the neck of the body, ‘What desire commands this?’ You weakly say, ‘I need it done.’ A dark grimace forms on the Desires’ brow, ’You Need it?’. The hand wrenched at the sides of Desires’ face Want slid into place, looking carefully at you it asks, ’You Need it?’ ’Yes,’ this strange groan from your throat turns into a yell again, ’I Need it.’ Want looks at you, and feeling the need of the key that the other hand held on a sickly soiled ribbon, The hand with the key gently moves up and pushes the Want off the throat, Need stairs at you with weak eyes, weak eyes but with a strange glow. No gesture, no speaking the hand with the key holds it out for you to take.
It feels strangely light as you walk towards the gate the ribbon seemed moist and flowing, The key seem to glisten the strange light of the tombs gate, it looks like congealed sweat in the shape of a weirdly formed key, the ribbon leaves a red trail blood behind everything that it touches, it is warm and soft to your fingers. Raising the key and it’s ribbon closer to your eyes. On the side of the key small words imprinted on it strange surface, “Manufactured by You”. With odd and puzzled look, your flip the ribbon over, “Made by You”. Again puzzled you reach the gate.
There you see a mass of bone like fragments glistening with images of houses, the faces of people, fancy cars, paychecks, sounds of laughter from one rail, and sounds of nature from a different one. Some of the images you remember clearly, and some not so. Touching the bone like parts the smooth unbroken surface seamless in perfection up to the point where it was violently fractured, broken by some vicious strike. Some of the bone fragments turned black, they emitted not sounds and no images left their splintered edges. The splinter edges tangled up into the shattered edges of another, each piece carefully place to build stout gate over a small stairway down into the Tomb.
Looking for the lock you see a hole about the size of a tear drop in one of the bone like fragments, gently you slide the key into the teardrop hole and turn it. The sweat of the key flashes over the gate illuminating all the shattered facets of the bones. Slowly the blood ribbon is drawn into the gate traveling down some form of vessels the bones gain color of muscles and then flesh reforming flexing and trying to move joints that are now fused, the all the sounds emanating from each fragment have now turned into a deafening hum, the sounds of laughter is lost against the collective roar of each fragmented dream gaining some of its life back. The seat stones of the hinges shatter throwing the gate and you into the air.
The grotesque structure lay in pieces around you, the bone fragments that gain your sweat and blood had broken the tears that bonded the broken dreams together. The blood and sweat seeps and pools around the last of the dying dreams and the bone like fragments begin to appear as the flesh melts away from them. You feel some sorrow for the fragments, some of which go back to emitting pleasant sounds of laughter, and the such. You get to your feet, and turn towards the now unblocked stair well. You take a very deep breath, and step in.
To be continued
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