Out of Apathy, pt. 12

There was the sound of a car coming down the road, so I turned to try and flag it down. The headlights washed over me and I began waving my arms frantically and yelling for them to stop, but I was ignored and they continued on past me into the darkness. With a sigh I looked back towards the events that were happening above me, but to my surprise the stars had all resumed their normal positions and it was as if all that I had seen never occurred. Feeling very confused, I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. After feeling the sharp pain and nothing changed, I resigned myself to the fact that I must have imagined it and continued on my path. After walking for what seemed like ages, I began to see some light up ahead down the road. I let out a slight cry of joy and began to quicken my pace toward the lights.

It was an odd sensation, however, because I felt that no matter how fast I walked the lights remained the same distance away, as if I was walking backwards on a moving sidewalk one sees in an airport. Becoming more and more frustrated, I began to run toward the light, but the lights didn’t move. To my left and right I could see the scenery changing, so that I knew I must be moving (and in a forward direction because the landmarks on either side of me were moving behind me). I began to push myself harder and began running faster, but somehow I didn’t lose my breath and my legs never felt any more tired. The hills and plateaus out in the distance moved faster and faster away from me, until I could no longer recognize their shapes and everything turned into a blur. I focused ahead of me on those lights, which were just out my reach, and they still remained the same distance away.

I was moving so fast now that everything turned dark around me and I couldn’t see anything except the lights that were ahead of me. Finally, I realized that I was never going to make it to the lights in this way. I was moving at the speed of light (at the time it did not even occur to me how absurd this idea was) and everything around me had disappeared because the light could not reach me, but because I was traveling in the path of the light from those lights I was chasing, I could still see them. Whatever those lights were being emitted from was moving away from me at the same speed I was travelling. So I stopped running and began to feel a sense of hopelessness. How was I ever to catch up?

Something then creeped into my mind that I had learned once, and that was that the speed of light is a universal speed limit and nothing could break it. I began to think about what I could do if I couldn’t break that limit, and then I realized that I could just be there. The power of thought could be my transport to those lights, my thoughts existing outside of space and outside of time, and therefore not succumbing to the limiting laws of physics. We are limited in that we make such laws for ourselves, if we would only let our minds be free of such rigid structure we might see that the things we think are impossible, actually are possible. Our world is limited only by our mind, and our mind is limited by our rational element that dominates our imagination. In this world anything is possible, but we must allow our imagination to lead the revolution and take over our mind. All this went through my mind as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, when I opened my eyes again I was in the middle of the parking lot of the diner I had eaten at not that long ago.


The bright lights hurt my eyes because they had become so adjusted to the darkness in which had been moving for so long. Inside, I saw the tired waitress standing behind the counter filling up another cup of coffee for the truck driver who was harmlessly flirting with her. “Come on, I’ve got a big ol’ sleeper. You can come ride with me to Beaufort. It’ll be fun, and I swear I’ll be nice,” he smiled with a wide grin and innocent eyes at the waitress. She just shook her head, and gave him only the slightest hint of returning smile, but this was the most she could muster. He shrugged and then continued to drink his coffee. Around the corner of the building I found a pay phone and tried to make a call to triple A, but when I picked up the receiver all I heard was silence. I hung it up, and then tried again, still I heard nothing; so I made my way inside to see if they had a phone I could use inside.

When I walked inside I tried to get the waitress’ attention, but she seemed to look right through me and stare off at something far off in the distance behind me. The look she had struck me as odd because it wasn’t as if she was simply glazed over, but really seemed to not even recognize that I was there. “Excuse me,” I said and waved my hand slightly to try and break her concentration. The only reaction she gave was that she began to wipe down the counters, so I tried again several times and received the same result. Frustrated, I walked back outside to gather myself before I made another attempt. As I paced outside the man who had been flirting with the waitress came out and made his way toward his truck, then it struck me. Even if I am able to call and have my car towed somewhere, there is no way I could have it repaired, it was totaled, and I was being driven on this mission, of sorts, by some unseen force that I could not ignore. The truck driver’s words stuck out in my mind because he had said he was going to Beaufort, which was on the coast and could be my venue to set out and find the girl in the photograph.

I chased after the truck driver trying to get his attention as he was getting into his truck, and just as if he could read my mind, the passenger door opened and I was let into his truck. I climbed up onto the seat and thanked him profusely for letting me in. He didn’t respond, but seemed to nod in acknowledgement. He then let out a loud whistle, and just as I was about to shut the door, I heard a bark right next to me. A dog came springing out of the darkness, jumped in over me and climbed back behind the front seats in the cab. After some sniffing about his head reappeared between the seats and the truck driver scratched behind the dog’s ears and said, “let’s get back on the road. We should make it by sunrise, so you get some sleep.” I said thanks and as the engine started I sank back into the seat and fell asleep.


It was strange that I fell asleep so quickly because I seemed to have been spending most of the night sleeping with my late start going to work and being knocked unconscious after the accident; however, I hadn’t slept much the day before, and with all the trauma, I believe it was to be expected. There didn’t seem to be any transition into the dream-state as I continued to perceive everything happening around me. The lights of the truck flipped on and illuminated the parking lot, and soon enough we were driving down the road. Everything around the truck had become dark. The stars seemed to have been blotted out of the sky by some great ink well that had been spilled over the entire canvas.

All the shadows of the hills on either side of the highway disappeared, and the only thing that was visible we the narrow corridor of light in front of the truck. The driver seemed to be in his own world and concentrating on the road, so I didn’t want to talk to him and break his focus. As I stared ahead into what I could see from the glow of the headlights I began to notice the column of light becoming shorter. Like we were driving into an dark fog, the lights had less and less of an effect on the darkness around us, but the driver didn’t seem to take any notice of this. The truck also seemed to be accelerating, not as if the driver was trying to make it go faster, but as if we were being pulled forward by some tremendous force. I sat up in alarm as I felt the truck go faster and faster, and watched the lights get closer and closer to the truck until they almost faded completely and left us in complete darkness. “Do you see that?” I cried out, but the driver maintained his composure, as if nothing was happening. I wanted to shake him loose from his spell and yell at him, but I realized that that would not accomplish anything and it might even insult him. He was a professional driver after all and judging by his reaction, he must have encountered situations like this before, or he was asleep at the wheel.

Finally the light completely faded and suddenly a strange thing happened. The terrible pulling sensation I had been feeling grow stronger by the second ceased completely. Furthermore, I no longer even felt the vibrations from the wheels on the ground or the hum of the engine. I was now all alone in a dark void with no signs of anything around me, and it occurred to me that I could not feel the chair beneath me anymore and when I reached out I couldn’t feel the interior of the truck around me. Somehow I had been taken out of everything and been put into nothing, into vast emptiness, if it can be called vast. When there is nothing, it cannot be really described because to describe it would be say that there is something to describe. The emptiness wasn’t just a feeling of being surrounded, but it was feeling that fully consumed me. My entire being felt empty, it wasn’t lonesome because there wasn’t anything to be longing for, but it was painful nonetheless. Painful might not be the proper word either because pain insinuates a cause, this was a feeling that cannot properly be put into words.

Imagine being drained of everything that makes one human; all emotions, passions, longings, just everything, and all that is left are thoughts, empty analytic thoughts. Here there was no time and no space, so there was no reference for description, and I cannot say how long I was there, but I would have spent a million lifetimes in the most horrible prison on Earth than to have remained there. In the darkness there came a light, small at first, but growing in intensity. As the light began to grow brighter and seemed to come closer, I began to feel again. A warmth began coursing through my veins comforting me. The light began to take on a recognizable shape as it came closer; it was the shape of a woman daintily walking toward me, swinging one foot in front of the other. She began to speak soft words to me that made me shudder from pure adoration, “Pas encore amour. Tu as besoin de réveiller!” When she said this last line the light she exuded become so bright that it burned my eyes and I was forced to shut them. When I opened my eyes again I was back in the truck and we were pulling in to a gas station, and the sun was rising on the horizon.

Out of Apathy, pt. 11

It had been a long time since I had seen my own face. For such a long time my routine had become so drilled into my brain that I did everything without even looking up. When you haven’t seen your own face for an extended period of time, it is very strange to look upon it. In some ways it is like being a baby once again, playing with different expressions to see what they look like and moving about in odd ways just to make sure that it is really you. Once the water had become smooth again, I could see myself clearly. My eyes looked so tired, like I had been awake for weeks, which was not too far off because the sleep I had been getting wasn’t exactly what one would call restful. Many nights I didn’t even dream and it seemed that as soon as I put my head on the pillow, the alarm clock was going off telling me to get up to go for work. Other nights my dreams were so draining it made me wish I hadn’t gone to sleep in the first place.

I realized another curious thing when I was looking at my reflection, and that was how desensitized I had become to everything. Before that night, I had let my emotions all but disappear. All my passions had been sucked out of me and I no longer felt any drive to do anything. It was as if my soul had left my body completely leaving just a robot made of flesh and blood. There were certain functions that had become automated, and I continued to perform them with my brain simply shut off. There was a certain amount of comfort in this state. It allowed me to not dwell on problems in my life and at the same time completely ignore those of the people around me.

Without passion though, was I really human anymore? With no creative energy or emotions, how was I any different than a computer program? And then all at once the program ceased and my brain clicked back on. There was surge of emotion that had been pent up for so long, and it released like an arrow let loose from its bow. I was brimming with passion, passion for what? Not for what, but for who; a passion for this girl whom I had never met, but had felt like I had always been in love with. She was the catalyst that I needed to restart my psyche. She had resurrected me, brought me back to life, and I just wanted to give her my thanks.


After staring at myself for what felt like hours, I stood up and began to really become aware of my surroundings and my current situation. There wasn’t really any choice for me and I began to walk back toward the diner down the road. I stuck my thumb out hoping that someone would pick me up, but there were very few cars out on the road and even if there were more, I’m sure that picking a stranger up late at night on a deserted road is something they could do without. The walk was good for me though; it gave me time to really think about how I had sunk to the sad state I had been in. It must have been a year or so before that night. That was about the time that the girl I had devoted myself to walked out on me.

At the time I gave her everything I had, and it still didn’t seem to be enough. She reciprocated my compliments and repeated the utterance when I told her those three special words. In my delusions, I became blinded to the disintegration of my spirit and of our relationship. Any interest she had ever had in me vanished and I began to cling to her desperately. Finally, one day she walked in and told me that she was leaving. It felt as if my spine had been ripped from me and I just sank into a pathetic heap on the floor. After a few minutes of blubbering and begging, she told me to shut up and said that that was the reason she was going. She had become my crutch because I had given so much that there was nothing left for me to support myself. I denied it vehemently, but looking back on it, she was right.

After she left, I was so defeated and stuck in my own self-pity for months. When my feelings for her started to fade, however, I didn’t feel any better. Instead I began to feel nothing at all. Apathy had become my new best friend, and it consumed my life. People would try to converse with me and I would give one word responses, and sometimes I would simply ignore them. This life deteriorated more and more until I lost all my senses completely. My body went through all the actions for me and I no longer had to think about anything. I had left my body completely and seemed to be observing myself from some other plane. Up until that night of the accident, this state persisted. Then all at once, in the span of a few hours it disappeared. Needless to say it was a little disorienting.


The walk began to become very dull as the frequency of cars decreased to the point where I went an hour without seeing one. I began looking out into the vast expanse on either side of the road, examining my surroundings. There were low hills and a few plateaus that could barely be seen against the dark background. These shadows looked as if they were simply chunks that had been taken out of the starry sky. They looked as if some great being had taken a giant cookie cutter to the low sky. Looking up from the hills I could see the North Star and a few constellations.

With my small knowledge of astronomy, I managed to find Orion perched in the heavens, bow in hand. Orion had always been my favorite constellation; I love his warrior stance with his two hunting dogs, fighting off Taurus the bull. As I stared at Orion, the form of the stars began to blur and take on a much more human like appearance. Taurus, the bull, also began to look much more like a bull. I stopped and rubbed my eyes to try and clear the image up, but as I did I could hear two dogs barking violently in the distance. Looking back at the sky I could clearly see the transparent image of a warrior, with his sword drawn, two hunting dogs, and an angry bull stamping its hooves. As I stood in awe of the scene, the figures began moving about in what seemed like a synchronized fight amongst the celestial bodies.

The bull charged and Orion swiftly moved out of the way and struck the bull with the flat of his sword. This struck me as odd, not only because of the absurdity of what I was seeing, but because his life seemed to be in immediate danger from the bull, so killing it would make more sense than just striking it and making it more angry. After Taurus had made his pass on Orion, I could hear Orion laugh. It was a great, deep laugh that shook the ground beneath my feet. This made the bull snort and the bright glow of the stars in his eyes became red as he made preparations for another charge. The two dogs moved right in the bull’s path, in front of Orion, but quickly moved out of his way, yelping with their tails between their legs. Orion, on the other hand, stood his ground. He sheathed his great sword and put his hands up in a ready position.

To my astonishment he seemed to double in size and when the bull’s great horns were upon him, he seized them with his bare hands and stopped the bull dead in its tracks. After some pushing back and forth, Orion managed to twist Taurus down and held him down. Taurus fought hard, kicking, snorting, and trying to move his great horns out of Orion’s grip. His struggle was futile however, and eventually he submitted to Orion’s superior strength. After this, Orion let Taurus up and patted him on the back. He then said something to Taurus, but I couldn’t understand what it was because of the rumbling his voice caused in the ground. I did see a glimmer however on the horizon, it was the shape of a woman and she was smiling looking at the battle. She seemed to be satisfied with the result.

Out of Apathy, pt.10

The scenery around was dark and slightly damp. The air became cool enough to allow moisture to condense on the greenery around. Stars shone above intermittently between the sparse clouds that passed by illuminating just enough to determine the surroundings. There was a stream running in the center of the ditch that seemed to have been the landing site from some terrific event. Upon climbing out of the ditch the car could be seen on its back and badly damaged with the wheels still moving furiously like an overturned turtle desperately trying to right itself. Somehow the memory of the events that led to this position was missing and only two bright headlights in a sea of blackness could be recalled.

The highway wasn’t too far off, but there were no police, no other vehicle involved in the collision, nothing but cars passing by once every few minutes. The air was quiet except for the whirring motor of the flipped car. Approaching the car to shut off the engine, confusion slowly dissipated into worry over the predicament of how to get back to civilization. Only one solution presented itself and that was to walk. Not the most appealing idea since it was the dead of night, cold, and between fifteen and twenty miles back to the diner. A cell phone would come in handy in a situation like this, but going day in and day out seeing everyone walking and driving while talking on their phone can lead someone to do drastic things, like hurling a cell phone off the roof of a thirty story building. Some people might not understand an action like this, and yet others probably more than relate to it. The satisfaction that arises from seeing this pinnacle of modern technology explode upon the asphalt greatly outweighs the horror that follows when it is realized that phone numbers are no longer memorized; they are stored in electronic devices. Also, not having a home phone greatly limits the ability to contact family members and friends or to receive the calls from work when someone is chronically late. The weight of the circumstance was becoming more and more apparent, and stress began to creep its way into the mind. Walking back to the stream, to find some sort of refreshment and grounding back to reality, a splash of water was a welcome help and as the circular ripples began to dissipate a face took shape in the water. This reflection was startling and almost shocking. The reflection was of me.

Out of Apathy, Pt. 9

There was not much of a wait before the food arrived and was quickly devoured because of the thrill and excitement of this adventure. After paying the bill an ample tip was left on the table in hopes that it would help provide a little bit of happiness for the waitress with the sad eyes. While filling up the tank with gas, the sun began to rise on the horizon. The orange and purple glow that had been slowly growing brighter now revealed the top of the brilliant yellow orb that was the sun. Reflections from the sun made the wasteland surrounding the truck stop emit its own gleam. Everything looked as if it had been illustrated by soft brush strokes, and the depth of this panorama became hypnotizing. When the pump clicked because the tank was full, it seemed to destroy this euphoric state and renew the dismal surrounding's reality. Jumping back into the car, it roared to life and sped off down the highway continuing the trek onward toward the coast that was, who knows, how far away.

“You belong to me” by Patsy Cline was playing on the radio, and despite the loudness of the wind rushing through the open window, her distinctive voice could be hear gently singing, “Fly the ocean in a silver plane, See the jungle when it's wet with rain, Just remember till you're home again, You belong to me…” The air seemed to be moving and responding to her voice. It was whispering the words at the same time as she was, emphasizing each line as if it were the most important words one should ever hear, and that missing even one of them would be like missing out on the very essence of existence. That voice was so easy to get lost in, staring at the horizon with the sun rising on the casting its warm rays down. Just like at the pump, the scene was mesmerizing and the surroundings melted away until all that was left was a comforting glow, the feel of the wind and the sound of Patsy Cline’s voice.

This wave of euphoria is normally something that many seek throughout their lives. States like this are not easily come by and for most require deep meditation and relaxation, and yet it just seemed to happen. Perhaps that is the key to attaining peace within one’s self. Not to spend years studying the words of long dead minds, not to work hard practicing ancient techniques and not to spend years trying to ignore the surroundings through meditation. All that was required was to simply become lost in the surroundings, not forget them. To let all the senses run wild and take in as much as was possible, that was the key. In this place, the sensation of an entire Universe becomes vivid and though one is lost, they find themselves. Normally, all of this is a good thing, but when the car is cruising down the highway at seventy miles an hour and drifts into the path of an oncoming truck, it is not the most desired of places to be.


Many people say that just before death one’s life flashes before his (or her) eyes; however, this isn’t the case. When death comes upon a person, it is swift like a hawk diving down upon its prey. There is no time to reminisce on past experiences, only time to sigh and say goodbye before sleep envelopes all of one’s being. Depending upon the death that one is about to meet other actions might occur, such as: the face contorting into a horrific expression of disbelief at the prospect of the terrific pain that is surely to come, a cry out to loved one’s who are sitting next to the bed waiting for the final moment with baited breath in hopes of a large inheritance, or various other small things that don’t seem to matter much because the end result is still the same. There are times, however, when not everything goes as planned even for such a merciless killer as death.

After the inevitable happens there are those who look back upon their body and feel a great pain at the loss of all their earthly pleasures, so they attempt to return to their now lifeless bodies. Death’s grip is strong, but some individuals’ will is far too much for even death to hold back. So these people return to their lives on the mortal plain and talk about the things they have seen and the icy grip they felt as they were being torn away from their bodies. Not everyone has the same experience during this time though. Some people say that they see a white light at the end of a long tunnel, others say that there is a voice calling to them and they run toward it, another group says that they see their loved ones at the end of a long path, and still others say that there is just nothing in death, but a vast emptiness. Such questions about what happens after death have plagued humans since they began to think and reason. Their fear of death has developed into belief structures where all-powerful beings exist and guide them through life and death or into a belief that when they die they will return to the Earth in a new form.

Many people scoff at the idea that once one dies, he/she is simply dead and does not exist anymore. His/Her essence simply ceases and doesn’t go on to greater things. Most don’t like this because it is not a very comforting thought, but there are those who believe it nonetheless. But can one really believe such an idea? For sure one can talk about it and accept it, on the surface, because it is such a simple idea, but to truly believe in something one must accept it in it’s totality and try to understand it completely. In this finite life that humans live in, where life begins when they are born and ends when they die, can one truly fathom the idea of not existing? Human minds are finite things and one cannot completely comprehend the concept of nothingness or infiniteness. There is always a search for the beginning and end to life and everything.

With recent developments in science there has been the Big Bang Theory which gives people a starting point for the Universe, but this theory still begs the question, “Where did the stuff that was in the big bang come from?” The idea that the cosmic stuff of the Universe has just always existed is a seemingly ridiculous notion to humans. An even more mind bending notion for humans is that there was nothing before the big bang simply because time did not even exist before the big bang, so how could something exist without a reference to time (and space since there was no space before the big bang either). Is it desperation that drives humans to refuse to accept such notions or is it as simple as that there is no possible way for them to comprehend such an idea and it must be left up to their God. In the end, perhaps the afterlife is what one makes it and it really only exists in the mind, which persists outside of space and time, and exists forever like an endless dream.


Watching late night TV gives a glimpse into the severity of some people’s delusions and their unwillingness to accept any sort of reasoning. It seems that some religions are so hell bent on keeping their afterlife an exclusive resort that they will persecute anyone who believes otherwise. The largest example that comes to mind is those people that fall under the denomination of Christianity. More than one church of this sect has stated the fact that not believing in their God, not having faith in "his" presence in everyday human life, and not affirming that "his" son died on a cross somewhere in the Middle East for their sins is a one-way ticket to hell. Yet they proceed to refer to their God has benevolent and merciful. Furthermore, when the curious mind searches for any sort of proof or logical argument towards this belief system and even more simply, their God’s existence, the response is simply that one must have faith and accept it.

Faith seems to be quite the controversial word. For the religious mind it is the end of all arguments, but for the curious or scientific mind it seems preposterous. Initially one who is not part of a religious sect would consider the word faith to be mere fluff, but further understanding of the word can help to show that it is not just a word meant for the religious zealot. Through science, evidence is gathered and piled up. Scientists then use this evidence to come up with theories about the subjects they have been researching; these theories are then tested rigorously to see if they hold up in reality outside of the paper. If the theory survives the assault the scientific community accepts it and may turn it into scientific law, at least until another, more accurate, theory comes along. However, though there may be mountains of evidence toward a theory, one can never say that it has been proven. This is because most of science uses inductive reasoning to justify its theories. Inductive reasoning implies that the outcome is assumed from the evidence, but isn’t shown directly from the evidence. This is where faith comes into play; a scientist must take a leap of faith to go from theory to law. She must have faith that her evidence is accurate and well founded, and that all her calculations were done correctly. If she believes all of this then she has faith that her theory is true.

An example of this sort of faith and where it fails is Isaac Newton. Newton developed his three laws of motion and through testing they were found to be mostly accurate and were accepted as laws of physics. Then in the early twentieth century Albert Einstein changed the way physicists looked at their field by showing that Newton’s laws were lacking. Einstein was eventually able to shatter the faith that Newton’s laws were entirely accurate and represented reality. From that event a new faith was born, a faith in Einstein’s new laws. Faith can be broken down even more into everyday life. A person may have a friend that he trusts whole-heartedly and he would never think that this friend would betray him because he has faith in their friendship. This person can never say for sure that his friend will never betray him, but he is willing to accept the friendship on faith based on his prior experiences with this friend. An even further simplification might be the simple notion of color. One can identify the color and is reasonably certain that whatever object is blue will remain blue, but it is just as likely that it could change and become green. Yet based on this person’s previous experiences he will have faith that the object will remain blue. All of this breaks down into philosopher David Hume’s problem of induction, which has yet to be resolved despite the attempts of many philosophers. In the end all that remains is faith. Not faith in God, but faith in science and scientific theory. Taking this into consideration, one can’t help, but ask themselves: does knowledge of anything outside of mathematics really exist? Or, do the definitions within mathematics really exist?

Out of Apathy Pt. 8

She smiled as she leaned back to stretch her body out in the still night air and continued on her seaward path. A gentle roll over onto her stomach allowed her to look down upon the city below to examine the happenings of the night. The city seemed dead at first, the streets vacant and lifeless, but as she began to cross over the city’s center the scene below became illuminated with various colors and shapes around the sculpture in the town square. Small swirls of yellow and orange colors showed where the streetlights emitted their effervescence. Blurred dark shapes moved about in rhythmic harmony to some fast paced music that was out of audible range.

In the glow of the lights she could see the movement of laughter from the people below; though she couldn’t make out any of their features. She had now become enveloped in the great impressionist painting she had been viewing from her window. When she escaped the city and looked down again, she was over the ocean and could see her reflection in the dark water below. More shocking than all the events she had been experiencing and witnessing was that she appeared to be part of this masterpiece as well. Her features had softened and the contours of her body became just groupings of shape and color. She could no longer make out the expression on her face, all she saw was dark spots where her eyes and mouth were, and bright specks of light in the middle of her eyes where the brilliant moonlight reflected back out. The absurdity of her appearance made her laugh to herself, but that same time she couldn’t help but feel taken aback by the beauty of it. It was as if when all the details were removed from the images she saw, she could finally see them as they were meant to be.

Now she finally realized that, though the fine details do much to accentuate the things she saw, the colors and shapes underneath those details are what make them beautiful. In some ways the detailed edges of refinement of this raw paint scheme hinder its ability to express itself. They confine the colors into concentric shapes and trap them inside walls not allowing them to affect their surroundings, to blend seamlessly into the background. What an atrocity it is to confine the artwork of the cosmos! To limit the expression of billions of billions of billions of sub-atomic particles swirling about at incredible speeds because of the will of the strings that guide them on their course, what kind of creature could think of such a thing! Yet there in lies the problem. It is the human mind that builds these ramparts. The brain searches for edges to every shape, a beginning and an end, without these limits a human brain would cease to function.


The water was as smooth as glass beneath her, and she could make out the entire scene above her in the illustrated sky. As she stared deeply at her reflection, she could feel herself descending closer towards the sea. Lower and lower she fell, until she closed her eyes and curled up to brace for the impact in the water, but when nothing happened she opened her eyes again and saw that she was now inches above the water. She stretched herself back out again and dragged her fingers through the water, which was surprisingly warm. There was hardly a sensation of temperature change between the water and the air surrounding. The only real noticeable affect was that her fingers met with some resistance in the water. Looking back in the direction she had come from, she could see the ripples caused by her fingers spreading out causing tiny distortions in the reflection of the sky. This made the image come alive with movement, and the stars began dancing in tiny circular movements like pirouetting ballet dancers.

Turning over onto her back to examine the sky once again she noticed that the stars above her were moving in sync with the ones she had seen in the reflection. She shut her eyes and rubbed them to make certain that she wasn’t being deceived, but when she opened them again the stars were still twirling about an invisible point. To test her now formed hypothesis she lowered her hand back into the water and watched to see if there was any effect. Sure enough a subtle movement began to drag across the sky making the movement of the stars more violent, but no less graceful. This made her smile, to see this kind of Godlike impact she had on the fabric of the cosmos and to be able to manipulate the movement of the heavens to suit her fancy. At this point she became curious as to the extent of her effect on the sky.

Laying her hand flat just above the water, she jostled it side to side to create a blur of the image above. The violence above her was surprising, but not disheartening. Stars blurred and spread out; striking one another, their colors blending together in odd shapes and hues, and the ripple effect was so severe that the stars looked as if they were collapsing in on themselves with the crashing of the tiny waves. Perhaps this is just the way God felt in creating the Universe, standing on a pedestal of nothing but imagination, pallet in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. Spontaneously creating an explosion of color without shape, then slowly and methodically shaping it into strings, quarks, nucleic particles, atoms, and on up to galaxies to fill the black void of nothingness, so that he wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore.


Some philosophers have questioned the existence of the world, and all that exists within it, with exception of the person thinking such things. In the process of such a maneuver one denies the splendor and beauty of the world and at the same time absolves themselves from being responsible for living. Not the sort of living that the average person does, but actually living. Filling themselves with the breath of all living things that surround them, taking in all of their surroundings, and deciding that life isn’t about just making ends meet, but is filled with riches of experience. Some of these philosophers deny that anything of substance can be gained through experience. What an absurd claim! The fulfillment of experience provides the brilliance with which one gives meaning to himself.

For the young swimmer and painter of the skies, her experience is the only thing that makes her days bright. Being locked inside of her own thoughts only draws out painful memories and weighs down on her like the cross upon the martyr. How can one possibly hope to gain any knowledge of meaning and existence having never truly existed? George Berkeley said, “To exist is to be perceived,” this statement says much about those who would deny experience. At the same time it also demonstrates the necessity of experience. One cannot know anything of the world without first going out and seeing it. As if the entire world doesn’t even exist for those who enclose themselves within their own blinded point of view on the world. Maybe that’s why something suddenly snapped and the car whipped around away from those strangling city lights across the ocean from the swimming girl; the realization that time continues forward, whether or not it is used in any meaningful way, and the distant feeling that someone was yearning and feeling the same way. To give up everything is to gain everything. Like reading a Kerouac novel there was nothing, but possibilities in the glow of the high beams.


Stopping off when the gas tank was reading below the bold “E” a brightly lit truck stop provided the necessities. Before refueling the car certain abdominal pains needed to be relieved with nourishment. After placing an order with the tired looking waitress named Dorothy, a deep sigh emitted from her as she turned to walk away. She was not that old, but the years of working in such an environment and smoking a pack of cigarettes a day had leathered her face. The deep grooves on her face and the eternal frown that she wore showed her desire for escape from this life she’d been given. Each line is a reminder of where she was and what she had become. The youthful beauty she once proudly wore had faded and become distorted through years of abuse.

Her life must have taken a downward spiral early on as she must have been working at this place since she graduated high school. Every night she points her finger, passing blame on whatever is around her trying to avoid depression by turning it into scorn. She blames her children, saying that if she hadn’t become pregnant right after graduation her life would have been better. She blames their father, who disappeared shortly after finding out that she was with child. Tears provided her only comfort late at night when she was all alone in her small trailer a few miles from the truck stop. When she was working she tried to put on a smile for the truckers and was usually successful, but to those who can see beyond the surface there is nothing except sadness in her eyes. No matter how much she tries to blame others, she knows that her life was her own doing and her own decisions.

She said yes to the boy with the pretty smile in the car that night, she decided to give up on her hopes of going to college and becoming a lawyer, and she stopped trying to overcome the obstacles that came her way to take the easy path of acceptance. Of course, none of this may be true, but that is the story that her face told. The weight of an entire ocean of sadness isn’t a mistakable quality in the frail human form.