I’m in. I’m in now. I walk around and see nothing. It’s dark. So amazingly dark. A man. I hear his voice. “Hey, you there. I see you. I see you!” He old. He’s yelling at me. I look around this dark room and see nothing. It’s as if a spotlight is on me. My eyes haven’t adjusted yet, so i’m vulnerable. Everything and everyone can see me. But i can see nothing. I’m scared. Dreaming like this is incredibly hard. Although I can wake up when I please.
A light bulb turns on off in the distance. It’s still dark all around it. Just that glowing round light, Then dark. Nothing but the depths of what? I don’t know. “Go, Run now. Turn around and GOOO!” It fly’s down at me. oh god. What an image.
“Oh I hope he’s okay Jerry. He’s been stuck in this coma for 3 days.” It sucks. I can hear every word they’re saying. I just can’t move. Or wake up. I’m so incredibly vulnerable. I’m on the verge of death. This creature has been stuck in my head since then and i just can’t get him out. I need help. Mental help.
At this point, there is NO going back. You’re here now. No sign of vulnerability. No remorse. Just the thoughts stuck inside this thick skull. I’ve gone completely insane.
It’s really funny actually. No more than five days ago I was sitting at my studio. Doing things as if it was just a normal day. Like I was going to go home, grab a glass of wine, get into my pajamas, and go to bed. It’s so funny how things can change so quickly.
I’m a photographer at the Busath Photography studio in Downtown Salt Lake. I love my job. I take photos of anything. Street art, weddings, landscapes, and even self-portraits. I’m my own boss. I work my own hours. So to be doing this stuff is incredibly fun. I worked late tonight on a couple’s wedding pictures. I love to see cute couples and relationships like that. It really does make me happy. But I like how my life is now. I’m single and caught into the job that i absolutely love. I’ve got my black tabby kitten Ivory waiting at home for me. I live in the city of very adventurous people. I would have nto say everything is great.
The drive home from South Temple seems to take longer than usual. I mean it’s the middle of fall and the rain is coming down hard. I generally take about 10 minutes, but there’s traffic at 8:30 at night? Hm, that’s odd. I finally take the right to get to the street to my house. I like this road because there is never anyone on it. Just a long 4 mile road for me to space cruise and listen to Led Zeppelin. I was doing exactly that, till this poor man runs in front of me with his arms waiving in the air. I swerve and grip my steering wheel tight, trying to avoid hitting him. The tires squeal and slide along the slick road. The car spins and comes to a stop. Facing the opposite direction that i was facing in the beginning. I heavily pant as I stare at this man sprint towards my car. “Let me in! They’re coming!” He says as he pounds on my window.
Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been- a most familiar bird-
Taught me my alphabet to say-
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child- with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal Condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings-
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away- forbidden things!
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.
I did this poem because romance is a great thing and Romance is fun and always makes your tummy roll. It may not be my favorite poem, but I do love romance and that is why I did this one.
Edgar Allan Poe is a very creative man. He’s written hundreds of different poems. But he is also extremely mysterious. He had a lot of taste for terror and haunting lyric poetry. Poe was found in the bar room of a public house and was sent to the hospital after missing for 5 days. He then died there away from his friends and family and surrounded by strangers.
There are many twists and turns to a writers technique. If you don’t know them, you never will. This is only the beginning of an adventurous journey. I eat sleep and live like any other person. I think like myself. That’s all you need to know about a person. No two are the same, as you know, they’re opposite. The only thing that seems to change, are the things we create.