swings

Night gently sweeps in over the longest day of the year. The silence hanging in the dry air is only occasionally broken by the waltz of swaying trees. Lamps light the lonely park, glowing a soft gold against the velvety backdrop of the starless night sky. The full moon, usually an iridescent pearl suspended in the sea of darkness, blushes a shade of soft crimson. Nearing the deserted playground, I hear a steady rhythm of creaking, squeaking, swinging chains. I find myself creeping slowly towards the source of the noise, although my conscience screams at me to keep my distance. Don't do that... you've always made fun of horror story characters because they went and investigated the noise, yet you're doing the same... I hesitate, and then, despite my brother's warnings in the distance and my mind being split in two, I shrug and advance boldly. What could be the worst outcome? An annoying new acquaintance? After all, this is real life, not a movie. As I draw near, I see the swings swaying steadily, and a girl with long, tangled hair covering her profile, humming softly, sweetly... Approaching cautiously, I sit on the swing beside hers, dangling my feet. Maybe, after sensing that I could be a potential friend, she slows down and finally stops her temporary parabolic flight. The rusty moonlight casts a shattered halo on her wild mane. Hi, she greets in a beautiful, tinkling voice. As she turns, eyes lowered and lashes brushing her cheeks, she looks up shyly.


It was only then that I saw her blank, lifeless eyes.
She tilted her head and smiled an unnaturally wide smile, more enthusiastic than I would have expected from such an expression in the windows to her soul.
Her head didn't stop tipping at that point; she twisted her neck around, owl-like, until an audible crack resounded through the deserted park, leaving her leering at me upside-down.
Dead fish-eyes suddenly flashing bright, each a sanguine orb, the chiming voice returned, joined with a Greek chorus ranging from the deepest baritone to the highest soprano, all in unsettling unison, all emanating from the one thing in front of me -- Play with us, play with her, play with us... we are having fun, we joined her, like you joined her, on the swing, now we are one, play with us...


The mantra rang in my head, drowning out my conscie-- play with me. Play with us. I joined her. Join me here. Now We Are One.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyway, yes... My brother and I did go to the park and heard the swings. We then did, in fact, go TOGETHER to play on the swings. Well, he didn't get on, crediting the fact that he was "too old," although we all know swings are for all ages, right? :) As a passionate science-lover, he pointed out to me that no matter the weight or size of the person on the swing, we all will be swinging at the same maximum height. The next time you are down, or believe that you will never be on equal footing as someone else, remember... On a swing, we are all the same. Why not extend that into our everyday lives? We, as humans, are fundamentally the same, and the world around us treats us no differently, whether we may be weighed down by worries or floating with pure joy, whether we may physically weigh more or be as light as a feather. There is nothing else stopping you from achieving your goals except you. It is up to you to put in the work to swing to the top, no matter how many times gravity pulls you down. It is up to you to put in the work to reach your goals, no matter what problems may beset you. Always remember this, and don't let anybody ever hinder your path to success.


other inspiration:

- on the night of the summer solstice of 2016, a phenomenon called the strawberry moon occurred, which means that the moon appeared slightly red.

by one's own will

Locked in a sterile room
By one's own will.
Variance drained from life
By one's own will.

Kept afloat by measly promises
Forged through one's own will.

Hypnotized by failure into pursuit of the blandest success.

opus no.1, foul weather

the language of dreams
a symphony in my heart
beat by beat
I believed we'd never part
then it stopped --
and the rain crashed to an end
and then the garish sun shone again