(The End of the World, from The Barking Wall, 2011)
Cycles upon cycles, the skipping record fumbles, the track remains the same, those fragments on loop, never to cease, perhaps, we never know. In the depths of uncertainty, a few words escape in the darkness of the deepest well, where ponder wonders astray, and the past is all you know. One can forget what is before one's self.
A giant rock hurls across the universe, it is sweating with blood, it is not an oversized meatball, it is made of iron and ice, it just bleeds blood (there are somethings that can't be explained). It knows where it is going, (The Voice for this tale opens his window and points just before, there's a glimmer of light, it is the nearby city, but what he means is US, as a whole, that that glimmer of civilization represents it all, from the dawn of man, right down to the end). We will never know of this fate before it is too late, and it is for the best, that our doubts, our superstition, and our theories are all irrelevant. In a flash, in a moment where all the things we cherished, all the ideas and beliefs, the everything of everything no longer matter, it is rendered void of value, and in this briefest of moments, time itself stops, the mind folds into itself, the two halves split and reunite, and are rewired synapse by synapse, and with each reconnection a part of this memory and part of that memory flicker off like the wildest of fire-crackers-soon-be-fiery-explosions...-of-thought. The flash of life is a lifetime in itself, we revisit it all with a vague experience of already living it. At this point our flesh is gone, we are antimatter, and even our brains are no longer, there is just a complex circuit of energy firing back and front faster than light itself.
Why do we destroy each other the bloody rock asks. The Voice of this tale walks up to the rock and touches it bleeding rocky surface, it is warm from its descent, but doesn't burn the voice's finger tips, he does not pull back out of reflex instead he pets the stonecold killer, perhaps even understands it. There is white light all over, it is from the flash of a huge explosion, but it is frozen in place, the only thing moving is this lone figure, walking around in loafers, wearing sunglasses, and smiling (who is this person). After he is done petting this 15 mile rock, he starts to walk around it, bits of earth are frozen in mid-air, he passes by them like he walking through a crime scene, and we wonder where he is going, what business could he have for time itself to have stopped for. He stops for a break, removes his left shoe and lifts it to his ear, he listens for a moment then shakes it. A few peddles fall out, he produces a cloth from his pocket and whips the inside of his shoe clean, the cloth returns bloody (meteorite?). After tying his shoe he continues to walk through this frozen chaos, on a mission from the gaze of his eyes.
Hours pass, and we're still trailing The Voice as he makes his way through the canyon o' destruction, our crew are getting restless, our feet raw, and worst of all, we're scratching our heads dying to know what is so important for time to stop. The Voice continues, without ever notices us watching, or at least without caring of his audience. The ground reaches a giant gorge and we all have to stop, we keep our distance from The Voice as we watch him look to the gorge and then decide that it is too deep and that it is too steep to travel into and out of, so he turns around, looks up, then looks down, our hearts pounding, feeling like any minute we're going to bare witness to something fantastic, and then he he he he...
-What are you guys doing over there, come give me a hand.
(everyone else is frozen in stock, I step forward and respond)
-What is it that we can help you with (should I address him, what should I address him as, ah fuckit) Master of the Time?
-Ha, come over here Silly One, you're needed, and them to. I KNOW they haven't been frozen in time.
We all gather around a giant log with The Voice looking at each one of us in the eyes before taking a deep-deep breath.
-Now guys, I want you all to hold hands for a moment.
-Form a circle around me, remember don't let go of each other, you'll disappear.
The words, disappear, floated in my mind; what happens when we disappear, how do we disappear, are we blown into bits and reassembled somewhere else. I stopped thinking of the possibilities and waited for his next move. His next move:
-Close your eyes. Now concentrate. You are floating. At first you feel your feet lift from the ground and those first few moments of flight then you start to ascend higher and higher. Soon I am lost in the distance from you in the sky and me still on the ground. I wave, and you all try wave back but you're still holding hands. A few of you shout things like, bye, nice knowin' ya. One of you says, smell ya later. I laugh, and wave you a kiss, this means bon voyage. Before you know it, even the meteorite disappears from view, and the air becomes cooler and cooler, with the air getting thinner and thinner. The day sky gets darker and darker and before you realize it you are on the verge of leaving stratosphere. You look up and see stars like you have never seen them before. Your eyes tear up, you feel like a child again, that wonder hits you hard and somewhere deep down. It is so beautiful you tell yourself over and over, there are no words to really describe this (not even the saying there are no words to describe this). Before you know it you're surrounded by the deepest of blackness you had ever seen, it is interrupted by the brilliance of the universe, with clusters of stars forming galaxies, spiraling in frozen vortexes, and lone stars burning like a welder's torch. By now, all your earthly thoughts have left you, and you are no longer an earthling. Your pace suddenly changes and the stars around you turn to beams of trailing light, you have reached warp-speed. Your body experiences an extreme g-force, but you don't feel like vomiting or letting your body explode from the intensity, no, you feel like you are gracefully flying, like a bird, at light-speed. All of your clothes, then hairs, then dirt, and excess oil are removed in the vacuum of your speed, your body is rendered pure, and your form is no longer like it was. You have transformed, there is a third eye in the middle of your forehead, and what you see from here isn't visual sight, but foresight. You see before your current state, you watch your body move through the universe, feeling vaguely familiar with the sequence of events, you have lived this. At the end of this third-eye vision you feel you have lived that witnessed moment, you look down at yourself, you have changed. Where your mind normally asks why forms a "I see", you examine yourself with open arms as if someone is putting a coat on you, one sleeve at a time. A few more visions happen, and before you know it, you are no longer anything like you once were. Your memory disappears, you see yourself start a new life, and the one before that cease to exist anywhere in your mind or body. We call this the crossover. All your pain, all of your struggles disappear, they stop having any value to you, along with it goes past love, friends, moments upon moments. Your heart is mended, your soul is free. I repeat, your heart is mended, your soul is free. Repeat after me, your heart is mended, your soul is free. Fade to black.
Fade to black.