Djjapp777
Bluelighter
Speeding along an empty interstate. It's 4am and the world is empty. You can see a world without cars or people or lights at about this time. I sit in the back seat of my new car, struggling not to get my expensive clothes wrinkled. The car is nice, fully equipped with the newest technology. It's clean and doesn't smell of decay. My driver speeds along at a steady pace in a crisp new uniform on the dead highway, minding his own business. He was quiet, but he wasn't a complete zombie; he didn't want to be seen as a mysterious driver. Like most, he wanted to attempt to be friendly, so the occasional question would arise, just to show that he was not a deadbeat. "Why were you the at the party?", "Who'd you go with?", "Do you do it a lot?"; just the normal chit chat that I'd reply to with caring grunts and then try to end using as few words as possible. Then he'd go back to focusing on the lonely road, doing his job the best he could. During this period in time I would gaze out the window, letting the trees whiz by me at 60 miles per hour, letting my mind unravel. Just coming from a party I should have felt relaxed, but I wasn't, and I pondered on this for a moment. The more I thought about it, the more I realized, I was experiencing many thoughts at once... hmm.. or maybe none at all? And when you think like this, you can't get yourself to relax, so frustration builds. Shit!... and when that happens, and when you have the time to do it, you reminisce, then you reflect.
My reflection began with the people I have hurt before, and why I hurt them. They were hurt because I had betrayed them, and their image of me was false. A tough thing to remember, but to be a person, you can't show two images to another person. It's a very bad thing to do. Shit again... another epiphany... eighty percent of the time, reflection is in actuality, a reflection of depression. Here I was, in an expensive car, expensive clothes, my own personal driver, coming from an incredible party, and I was miserable. Big surprise... and as usual, in desperate situations, you begin to fathom the unbelievable. I thought of my new "DJ Taucher LIVE @ Webster Hall NYC" CD which I had recently purchased. I thought of Taucher's look, clad in noisy clothes, surrounded by noisy music. He leads a noisy life. How great that would be. If I could be him for a day, and felt what he felt. To have hundreds of dancers moving for you, because they feel what you feel when the music pounds your head. To live for music that pounds your head and to never stop loving it... what a life. Oh, if I could only be a DJ, how wonderful would that be. Just one of many lives to lust after, and as I progressed I thought of other impossibilities. Writer? Could I really see myself as an author of literature that would be quenched throughout the world? To have people read my scriptures that pound their heads, and have them enjoy it. How great... if I could experience that for a day. Oh, if I could only be a writer, how wonderful would that be.
But in my soul, in my body, in my life, right here at the present... I am watching trees fly by. Expensive car, expensive clothes, personal driver, incredible party... what dreary thoughts. I wake up and pull my eyes away from the trees and look ahead at the lonely dead road; here was my reality again. With the mind shift, again another thought occurs... the thought was one of wonder, wondering if I had really thought all those things just now. They were different thoughts, not solid or sober, and were fading already. Maybe because they were thoughts tinged with hope. Anyway, it's 4:30am now, and it's no time to sleep... I shrug off the dream vapors, shake my head to rid myself of the final drops, and grimace at the newly awakened pain coming from the cold handcuffs.
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"On your planet, 1+1=2; On our planet, 1+1=1." - Ceiba
[This message has been edited by Djjapp777 (edited 29 August 2001).]
My reflection began with the people I have hurt before, and why I hurt them. They were hurt because I had betrayed them, and their image of me was false. A tough thing to remember, but to be a person, you can't show two images to another person. It's a very bad thing to do. Shit again... another epiphany... eighty percent of the time, reflection is in actuality, a reflection of depression. Here I was, in an expensive car, expensive clothes, my own personal driver, coming from an incredible party, and I was miserable. Big surprise... and as usual, in desperate situations, you begin to fathom the unbelievable. I thought of my new "DJ Taucher LIVE @ Webster Hall NYC" CD which I had recently purchased. I thought of Taucher's look, clad in noisy clothes, surrounded by noisy music. He leads a noisy life. How great that would be. If I could be him for a day, and felt what he felt. To have hundreds of dancers moving for you, because they feel what you feel when the music pounds your head. To live for music that pounds your head and to never stop loving it... what a life. Oh, if I could only be a DJ, how wonderful would that be. Just one of many lives to lust after, and as I progressed I thought of other impossibilities. Writer? Could I really see myself as an author of literature that would be quenched throughout the world? To have people read my scriptures that pound their heads, and have them enjoy it. How great... if I could experience that for a day. Oh, if I could only be a writer, how wonderful would that be.
But in my soul, in my body, in my life, right here at the present... I am watching trees fly by. Expensive car, expensive clothes, personal driver, incredible party... what dreary thoughts. I wake up and pull my eyes away from the trees and look ahead at the lonely dead road; here was my reality again. With the mind shift, again another thought occurs... the thought was one of wonder, wondering if I had really thought all those things just now. They were different thoughts, not solid or sober, and were fading already. Maybe because they were thoughts tinged with hope. Anyway, it's 4:30am now, and it's no time to sleep... I shrug off the dream vapors, shake my head to rid myself of the final drops, and grimace at the newly awakened pain coming from the cold handcuffs.
------------------
"On your planet, 1+1=2; On our planet, 1+1=1." - Ceiba
[This message has been edited by Djjapp777 (edited 29 August 2001).]
