A Most Joyous Moment

Moments transform in dazzling arrays, as music liquefies and pours its deliciousness into me and through me. Cascading sheets of giggles wash over me like sheets of rain pummeling a captive landscape that is unable to writhe away and is powerless to the onslaught. Such rapture dances sumptuous, delicate lines between mad frustration, as wave upon wave transforms any thought into another cascading sheet that glitters and teeters on each passing moment, waiting for only a second, before crashing into pure joy; unbridled and passionate. Surrender is my only option, but as I contemplate the thought, the word ‘surrender’ etches itself infinitely in neon and washes over me in dazzling array.

Unrelenting in its barrage, I can do nothing but simply be in this moment.

Yet in these moments, I want to hammer my head into the concrete, I want to scream so loudly that my throat tears into a million burning pieces, I want to shred apart every last remnant of a body, and destroy every last cell that binds me to this sensation. And it’s not a desire for the pain or the gore of any of it, but only to ease the joyous, agonizing intensity that threatens to destroy any fleck of sanity that might remain. There is no break, not even for a moment, as she works her way through me, utterly and completely, changing every breath, every thought, every flicker into something tangible and unrelenting.

And it is in these moments that I also feel so completely, utterly, and vividly alive. If I weren’t certain a moment before, the passion for the complete destruction of my own body combined with the simultaneous passion for the ceasing of the onslaught bursting through every seam of my being, screams unceasingly through me, glowing and tittering once more into a sheet perfectly shaped to fit the apparatus of my own design.

Still unrelenting in its barrage, I can still do nothing but simply be in this moment.

Contemplation gets me nowhere, only a reaffirmation of that which I already know to be true. She beckons me again, promising gentler waves, but the moment I agree, I am plummeted into equally intense sheets of energy that crash over me that grow faces that giggle and purr and sputter and tick. Do I lie down quietly or do I run through the streets screaming for someone, anyone to wake up from the dream? Such desire gets me nowhere and the world is left unchanged. All I can do is leave my beacon, clear in its intent, unchanging in its design, lit brightly, as I simply surrender, burn myself alive, and wonder.

If only I could remember that when I look at the trees, wild in blossom, I am looking at my own origin dancing in pure delight. If only I could remember that in the moments I stop seeking, are the only moments I am truly alive. For now, I take solace in the knowledge that none of this exists as anything more than a thought of something I once was, while I turn my face to the sky and wait for salvation.

Yet, none of this compares to My Darkest Moments or me as Prisoner #11.

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1 Comment

  • Alex Householder
    December 13, 2007 at 7:46 pm 

    That was absolutely beautiful.

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