My heart, where have you been? In the darkest room in the sharpest corner, beaten and bruised you continue forward. Nothing has been able to stop your pulsing consonance, a chord of various emotions fueled by your mind. These things have claimed others, but it will not claim you. Can you remember how perilous it was not so long ago, how far have you come! He has been leading you this whole time out of the dark forest. Can you not see? There is a journey I fear that lays yet ahead, I have life still to spend and a will to yield to His. A beam of light now shines into my heart, I am getting closer now. I hear a brook running peaceful near me not far. I will be led to it and regain my strength. I will heal. A beam of light now shines into my heart.
He stays in the land a ways from the buildings and smells. One foot presses into the earth while the other escapes its burden for a moment. The strange man claws tightly around the old trunk of the angry tree towering high above him. Slowly he peers around the side of the ancient oak into the city of people. His clothes are burned and tattered, willfully obliging as his covering from nakedness as it looked like only they chose to stay on by worn threads. Without shoes, the dust clung thickly to to the wanderers bare feet. They were gentle, as was he. Timid and slow to disturb the world he was, full of love and fear.
His face filthy, he beheld the ones for whom he longed. Gazing he knew them all although they did not know him. Not as he was now. The cars rushed passed the curbs, and the lights flickered, and the people walked this way and that way to some other points seemingly not related anyone to another. A dog loose and running amok ate from a garbage can toppled onto its side. The birds circled and hovered overhead and the workers worked their labors. On and on the motion did not cease, the ones he held in his eyes beheld nothing but the bodies and life they each spent on their own desires.
Strange dark hair he brushed from his strange face. Sitting quietly behind his wooden guardian he looked back in time. In youth the man knew the ones from the city, and they took out his organs and broke all of his bones, his head they crushed and his heart they ate. Blood spilled to the tile floor in the hallways and rooms, and everyplace outside. They tore at his skin and stopped his throat. The city ones in their homes and with their beds and food; they once reached in and put the poison inside of him.
Oh how he loved them all. His blue eyes let fell drops of dark cold blood, bled from wounds inside of him from long ago. Oh how he loved them all.
The man had been saved from the sulfur, and from the burning. He had been rescued from the ocean of death by a Champion. Looking down his hand began to shake and grasp for something unknown. What has happened? What has gone wrong? Will this damage heal or will he remain in despair. And why? He covered his countenance and wept without restraint.
One day he went to the building where his brothers and sisters go, he went inside and sat down. He stood up and sung the hymns and bowed his head, he sat down and raised his eyes. When no one was looking he drank into himself the room with all his family within. Biting hard now his teeth ground as he fought back the tears. An institution was the machine, and all were processed beautifully as they remembered all the steps and missed no beat. It hurt so much. He stole another picture of them. It burned in his brain. The minutes were passing too quickly. Soon it would be over and he would have to leave.
The final steps were completed and all rose to their feet and proceeded to the lobby where there were drinks and chairs, and all talked to the others and their faces bore smiles and pleasure. The man slowly walked over to the coffee holder and poured out some comfort so that his hands would not have nothing to entertain as his hopes for the comfort of another was at its elevation. He sat in the plastic chair against the wall. His two eyes begged them, they begged them to come. They wanted it so bad. But they did not come, no not one. The man went through the great doors and fell into his car and drove away. Oh how he loved them all.
I do not have discipline. I do not have strength. I am dying, my breaths are wearing out; they grow increasingly thin. Words are empty shells because their invokers are the dead, so they are dead. What hope do we have left to hold in our hands that suspend lifeless and purposeless at our sides. They reach toward the earth that will cover us in the end and take us away into oblivion. We cry out for You because we can do nothing else. The knowledge is almost complete now concerning the brokenness that beholds the world, in fire and torment we are engulfed by the damning winds of guilt. We wait to die. We wait for the release into the forever. We are waiting for You. You gave to us what could not be wrought by ourselves. We can do nothing of ourselves, we are helpless and wandering. We look into the dark for comfort, but instead we chew our lips and bleed our tongues to hide the pain of aloness. There are too few of us it seems, waiting to be repaired. Most of us are dumb and blind and can not distinguish light from dark. We are but children called into fierce warfare quickly aging and fainting in exhaustion. Please let there be more like me, where has my family gone to? Where are my brothers and sisters? Will they enter into paradise with nothing in their hands to be tried by the fire? I am in allegiance ever as it is day and pay with life the grace that was given me. I pay with blood, I pay with fear, I pay with terror, I pay with misery. Please release me! How much longer? How much more will there be? I can’t take any more. The days are gruesome, they call for the laying down into the grave, but we continue on. I can hear the arms moving slowly ticking without regard to my hell I am living in. I can’t stand the pain, I step outside of myself. I call out to You and you hear me, You see me. Am I being good? Will You love me more? How ignorant I am to look for drugs in Your holy places. The damage stems from my youth, unexplainable disgust and hurting inside. I can’t breathe, here it comes again. In and out I am brought high and low. I hate the dead. I hate the slime that pours out of their mouths. I hate the putrid smell that permeates into the hopeless air. Will I see you again? I wonder as I see them, will I see you again. I claw the nothing for You. I am ever your son. I am ever Your child. You said all of these things would happen, no lie have you said. The rest is had in at the end of the race. But something is amiss. I pray tell me what ails me. You are my designer. What is this killing me. Why am I so sensitive to everything around me. When one speaks I hear screams, when one touches I feel battery. Why do I feel so alone? I have much work to do. I have years and years of work to do. Where do I begin. The spikes pierce annoyingly into my hands and feet, every step I take as painful as the last. The swords are pressed into my body and keep me at alarm. It NEVER stops! I can feel it in my physical body at all times. I have so much to do. I have good plans that are unfolding. I requested them from You and I believe You have granted them. I piece the steps together and press on. I never quite. I never deviate. I ask for more, I will Not return empty handed! I will comply. I will to do Your will. I asked for this, this special task. You know me so well. A quiet life would have killed me fast. Good work you gave me to do. I accepted. My work is to tell them about You and your great love. I will see it through.
I raise my head to send it through the stars. Is it getting through? Desperate, I try to remember all of the words in Your letters. The birds begin to announce another day in torment, can’t they just wait. Time is made, atoms are made, neurons are made; how do you see a spirit? A foreign dimension to which I am wholly apart but wholly unaware, I try to catch the clouds in my hands. Futility and hopelessness. My head is going under the water again, if only I could get this message through, or maybe it has made it already. How would I know. I look for answers but get no reply or sign it seems. I am not the only one though, I remember David saying the same words and weeping. How many rivers will I make until You are stirred? Perhaps this is the message that I am making now, resolution to know the truth, but understanding it I request wisdom. When! How long will You be silent! My chains I have placed upon my limbs keep me from wandering away, but I have attached myself to the sun and now it is burning my body. How long until You reply? I sit lonely in the corner, I lay crushed. My heart is broken, my knees won’t let me up. I could not be pressed lower into the dust. Where are You to give me my lessons? My name is faithful, and I will keep waiting. I count all of the blessings You have given to me. I remember how many times You saved my life. I want to see You now, but I know I must wait. You have never lied to me or wronged me at any time. I sit and wait. I pray another prayer.
I am beside myself safely staring from a balcony above. I can see my body down below moving through time, I look up at me and I am alone. But do not worry because I am here beside you. I will finish your sentences and think like you think because I am beside yourself. Me from below is pressed into the dust, sadness swells and torrents like the great red spot on Jupiter, but don’t worry because I am beside myself. When your breathing becomes shallow and weak, do not worry because I am beside myself. When you lay down in the earth and close your eyes, do not worry because I am beside myself. I will never be hurt again because I am not present, I stand outside looking at the pain. I will never be alone because I am with me, I stand outside always watching our life unfold. How did life get like this? Please Master put me back together again! I hate it here but we must pass through so that we can get home, its too much sometimes, I dislocate my thoughts to some other place. Please Lord make me let you take my place and walk beside myself.
How I wish everything was the same.
When I wake up at the same time every morning I go through the same routine. I prepare myself in the lavatory with the same items in the same way, combing my hair to the same side every time. I wear the same kind of clothing and eat the same kind of food, and drink the same cup of coffee. I turn the same channel on the television to get the same traffic report, and leave for the same job every day doing the same thing.
Then everything will be safe and foreknown, there will be no deviation. I will know what will happen the next day and the next. Instead I work to find that perfect routine so that it can withstand any variables. The DiSK says I’m an “S” type, but I don’t know if humans have cracked the personality code God has created, these types being a product of our environment I believe. What does that mean then, it was unstable for me as a kid? Yes. Now I yearn to put the pieces back together, and make a plan so that they will never fall away. It must ever be the same and unchanging, then we will have peace. You will have peace and I will have peace. Then the fighting will stop, then the problems will end, then we can love each other and not press to destroy. I want harmony with every person I see, I want them to feel comfortable and safe. I want them to come and rest and escape the world for an hour. I will be your ears and will listen to whatever you tell me. I just want you to feel safe. I will be your friend you can trust to do good.
Instead they consume one another. The dead are eating the dead. They want to hurt and take. They want to devour and contend. Stand back from your perception of the world system, all a lie from the greatest liar who was the morning star. Now he is destined for the lake of fire. Will we go with him? We are born and bred to understand the worlds ways. Open your eyes.
I entered the tall high rise residential building by way of the front revolving door. Walking past the front desk, I made my way to the double elevators located next to the mail room and pressed the arrow indicating the direction of up. The circular plastic disk lit up to confirm the request was being processed and I stared at my feet on the floor while I waited. Something seems off, I felt the all of the concrete in the building at once like a some high prime number; clearly announcing its name to me; the building, the structure. Everything within the walls are subject to the laws that apply to the space defined by it. Am I dreaming?
The doors opened suddenly after waiting for me to complete my thought. I took a deep breath and stepped inside. The panel of choices presented an array of circular plastic disks similar to the one I just saw, but this time adorned by numbers. I touched them as I searched for the one that had a 35 on it. I chose and the machine complied. A brief moment passed and then I ascended right away to the level where the management office was. It seemed like I was stuck in my moving chamber for years before a subdued tone was sounded to alert me I had arrived. The doors opened again and released me to a 4 inch thick floor 35, and I turned to the right and read the placard on the wall that read “Management Office” before I pressed through.
“Hi, it’s Chris from Imperial Contracting, I’m here to look at a unit for you.” I said to the air that connected the individual working cells together with hopes that I could discover who was responsible for getting me to my final destination in an efficient way addressing all at once.
“Oh, yes. Hello. Hold on I’ll pull the keys for you, do you have your I.D?” one of the ladies replied to me while getting up to resolve my occasion as she had many pressing matters to attend to that day, and every day for that matter.
I reached into my back pocket and retrieved my wallet and took out my drivers license and held it in my hand. I looked down at the picture on it. Seconds passed that felt like hours and I felt something cold on my shoulder. Just then my card began to slowly melt away right there in my hands. This can’t be happening I thought. It bent and warped until it became a molten substance that fell through my fingers and onto the floor, which swallowed the card right up. It disappeared! I looked up from what just happened and instead of the bustling office, there was darkness in every direction. I felt that it went on for a great distance well beyond the confines of the building. Am I dreaming?
“I’m afraid that we don’t have a key for that unit on file. I will have to go up with you and let you in with my master key.”
I gazed into her face, but it was badly distorted and blurred so that I could not make out any distinctions that resembled the office worker I was just interfacing with just a moment ago. I know that indeed I do dream, even this very instant I thought to myself. I submitted to the unconscious state of my mind and went forward with the plan of whoever is in control of human dreams.
“Follow me.” she said.
I followed behind her in a direction that was arbitrary to me as no points of reference could be made out in the darkness except for her and I, that somehow managed to reflect light that came from an unknown source. I heard her footsteps now clicking on what sounded like a grand floor made of marble. My heart began to fret as I felt more and more of the rules being thrown out the window. Soon I will not be able to explain why any of this is happening and it will become a nightmare. We kept going.
The whole thing seemed surreal as I thought about why I had come in the first place which was to do work for the building on an electric panel for one of its residents. When I held that notion up next to the notion of the lunacy that was running amok right now with the fuzzy lady in the dark, the thought of a beautiful red apple popped into my mind whose skin was painted in blood which was why it was a red. Sanity wrapped in horror. I have to get out of here. Will I wake up soon?
All of a sudden the clicking came to a stop and the outline of a door appeared that was traced in light because she was opening it and the light escaped all around its boarders. She walked through and so did I. I was now in a perfectly normal stairwell, and the ladies face returned back to the way it was before.
“We have to take the stairs, the elevators are out of order.” she said.
“Whats your name?” I asked.
“You know who I am already.” she replied coldly lucid.
I didn’t ask again because I had absolutely no idea who she was, and I felt if I pressed something terrible would happen.
We ascended the metal stair way for such time that I knew my legs would fail soon. Although we went up, I distinctly feel like we are going down; like there was an inverse relationship concerning everything in the stair well. On and on we step, endless stairs. The light began to grow more dim the higher we go, and the echo of our feet striking the steps resonated more fully and ever became more broad and carried I’m sure all the way to the chambers of hell. We alerted them to our presence.
As we advanced, time itself raced paced our position in the river and left us behind. The enclosure became aged. By force in relation to our pace, time was out of control. I saw all around me what would be in 100 years. It was all worn down and falling apart, clearly abandoned and left by a people outside of the building obviously in turmoil to leave such a trophy of progress to its demise. Why do I continue to follow this devil still?
Back in my bed by body convulses in a quiet tumultuous protest, yearning to wake up. This is a night terror! I’ve had them before as a kid. This isn’t going to be good. Sweat saturates the linen and my temperature rises. Something is wrong.
“Can you smell it?” The lady asked in front and above me as she continues to climb.
At once I became aware of a putrid odor I can only compare to a dead rotting animal, well like 1,000 dead rotting animals on the hottest day in the Amazon. I nearly vomited.
“It’s the slime.” She answered herself.
The slime? I thought. What is she talking about. Then I saw it. An ocean of horrifying slime oozing down all of the walls. I could not tell where it was coming from or what caused it. I stayed in the center of the well daring not to touch it. It flowed downward and as I peered below, somehow I could see the ground which was not there but instead there was an opening to a sewer that was below the building. Almost as if the meaning of the slime, the building, the lady, and the darkness became known to me all at once being part of the fabric for which it was woven; my eyes were opened. I am aware of all of it, and what they are saying to me in this concert of abstract lunacy.
As I pondered, we arrived at the floor we journeyed for. Being so high from the ground, I couldn’t help feeling as though we were in some subterranean abyss. The door she opened led to a hall way lined with doors on the left and the right. All of the doors were shut and could not be opened by us right now save one door. We floated in silence to that door. Pausing outside of it I could hear something like a torrent of storms times storms on the other side; violent wind and shaking and screams. I do not want to go inside.
“I don’t want to go in there.” I said.
“You know that you are going in there already, you will see what is on the other side.” The woman stated.
She did not knock, but instead inserted the key into the tumbler and disarmed the mechanical guards preventing passage. She turned the door knob… and slowly pushed open the door, and it stopped with a thud as it hit the wall opposite and rested. My eyes hungrily but fearfully feasted on the sight that was now before me.
What should have been an apartment was not. It was a place far away. There were stones everywhere as though it were some kind of ancient ruin, but at the same time it was mixed together with the things that were or should have been expected inside a lonely apartment. I saw a television, a radio, a stove, and a great stone alter. On this alter I saw a man who was bear except for a wrapping around his loins, laying upon the alter on his back. His body was dirty and there were cuts all over him. His age was well advanced, and he did not seem to notice anything that was happening around him because he was in some sort of trance. With his head lying flat and looking into the ceiling, his arm extended beside him to a set of papers that were flailing in the wind that was now picking up to match what I heard before we entered the apartment. He was writing fervently words I could not make out, not even looking down at them but staring off else where. Writing and writing did he. There was no pause or delay. upon his chest I saw a deep cut that was in the shape of a number. I moved slowly closer to discover what it was. Carved in his chest was the number “666”, and carved upon his forehead was the symbol of a pentagram.
Not so, this isn’t happening! I thought in my mind that was now filled with terror and bewilderment. Seeing these two marks were purposefully cliche, someone wanted me to be clearly aware of something. In a trance he did write.
“Who is this man?” I now yelled loudly as the wind and the torrent was in the transformed room all about.
“He is writing your death.” She replied simply.
At once I awoke and sat vertical in my bed. Sweat was abounding all over my body and my heart raced without restraint. The dream was slipping away, I was immediately beginning to forget it as the awake usually does upon completion of the night. Desperately I held on to it until I found its meaning. Its meaning was this:
The building was full of people. The people were not aware of the special room inside of them. It influenced them and led them into the darkness. The people followed by their own free will. Their ways were as foul as the slime that went down and gathered below. The man in the room was recording their actions to bring accusation against them to gain more legal access to tormenting them and taking them. The people did not believe this was happening, it could not be seen with their eyes of flesh.
I gasped. I lay my head back down and fell asleep.