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Puppet on a String Theory

Philosophizing Bibliophile

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 09, 2013 7:59 am


My face is reflected in the water...
It's a shining grin full of hope...


Roses

I looked out through the fogged windows. It had been raining for the majority of the day. Peering through, I glanced at the rose bushes, roughing out the harsh weather. “’Roses are always red’, they say.” I spoke quietly to myself. They weren’t red- not now. The day seemed to be moving along, second by second, as slowly as ever. Taking a seat, I began to contemplate. Roses aren’t always red, I thought to myself. I glanced back towards the window; I could see my own reflection, my own face, but hardly. Never mind the fact that it was raining, the day was keeling over, giving way to dusk. Who was I to call this an excuse? It came to me, then, those few subtle sentences once spoken to me. “If you ever find yourself without someone dear to you, keep their face in your heart. If you ever find yourself in difficult times, you can never lose that, and no one can take it away from you.” A light smile made its way across my previously saddened face.
Rising from my seat, I slowly found my way back to the window. Staring through my own reflection, through myself, I put my focus back onto those few rose bushes. Maybe roses weren’t meant to always be red. I began thinking. To each its own colour, and to each its own meaning, wasn’t it? My mind now set on this, I began delving farther. Upon deeper contemplation, red roses seemed to merely become a portrayal of clichés. Never mind them possibly suiting me, they didn’t suit you in ways enough. Looking farther… I found that a yellow rose simply did not speak enough. It had no story; it had no meaning enough to define. The white rose speaks of purity, but is that quite correct? The fault to purity is that it never faults, and can never truly experience life… It took me a moment to realize that I was still standing, staring out of the darkened windows, at the no longer visible object in which my vision had been focused on.
Sighing now, I walked over to the nearest wall, and leaned backwards, as if I were going to use it as a support. Instead, with my mind and my heart elsewhere, I slowly fell to the smooth floor, to find myself in thought once more. “The blue…” I spoke aloud, unnoticingly. It seemed to suit you upon first glance, but it did not seem quite fit. Not quite fit enough. Was the pink rose a choice? Your presence does provide me with happiness, and now was proof that you were important to me. But for some reason, my mind strode astray from the pink.
“I need to find something more than these,” I said, somewhat frustrated by my own thoughts, “something more meaningful, more valuable.” I needed something that spoke more, that told a story, that held a meaning. Then it dawned upon me. The colour rose that always is, and never changes. The colour of eternity… The colour that always lives.
I now realized that it wasn’t just roses that I was analyzing. I was analyzing my views… Myself and my emotions. In this new light, I continued my contemplation. It was the black rose that struck me so stunningly. Although it represents death, nowadays… That was not my intention. There was more to this flower. Its story only began with that representation. Death is that which is eternal- that which survives forever. I heard those few sentences ring in my mind again, “If you ever find yourself without someone dear to you, keep their face in your heart. If you ever find yourself in difficult times, you can never lose that, and no one can take it away from you.”
I now leaned my head back against the wall that had become cold, from the persistent downpour. These roses speak the words that shatter the night sky and bring light to each day. At that moment, thunder struck- all the while I remained in contemplation. But do these roses suit you? Or merely me? No matter, what they meant to me- what you meant to me- was all that I needed to find, all that I needed to know. These roses told me the words that I needed to hear. Even in the afterlife, you will always be dear to me. And that nothing in life- or death- could ever change that.


... Or it could be a look of somber silence struggling with fear...
What do you see reflected in your face???
PostPosted: Sat Mar 09, 2013 8:02 am


My face is reflected in the water...
It's a shining grin full of hope...


Reflections

I stood alone in the quiet clearing that held so many memories. But it wasn't the clearing itself that held the memories- it was the small pond towards the center of the clearing. From my current standpoint, it wasn't even visible, between the tall grass and the sloped landscape. Slowly but surely, I maneuvered my way through the complex- or what seemed to be complex- weavings of grass that stood in my wake. As the pond began to wander its way into my vision, as it enveloped my sight, I simply stood, motionless.
Staring at the body of water, looking at its reflective surface, I felt that it was missing something. Among the reflections of the tall grass and the distant trees, the few insects skidding across the water, where was my reflection? Where was my illusory self amongst the replica flora? That's right, I began thinking to myself, I remember now.

It was a cool, quiet morning. With hardly anyone awake, I felt that I might as well do something in what short amount of privacy I might have. Beginning with my everyday, every morning, routine. I started by taking a shower, to wake myself up a bit more. The warmth of the water flowing down my skin didn't help the fact that I wasn't fully awake. I never understood why I constantly thought that that would help me come fully to my senses. After this, I left the washroom to find something to eat. Lacking any real ideas, I simply tossed a bit of bread into the toaster, allowing it to become a nice, crisp breakfast. Once I finished this "gourmet" breakfast, I continued to sit at the dining room table, staring blankly out the open windows. It's a nice day, I thought. That also meant that it was a good day for a walk, it seemed.
As I opened the door, and left the warmth of my home, I felt the cool breeze of autumn hit my face. It was nice. I hadn't gone for a stroll in a while, so it felt refreshing to feel the blowing wind upon my face. After a good bit of walking, I found myself staring into the entrance of a somewhat forested path. I thought I might as well walk along the path, if not only to admire the majesty of nature's transformation of seasons.
Walking along the path, I remember distinctly a fork somewhere down the road. I thought I saw a bit of light over towards the end- or what I thought to be the end- of the path to the right. I took it, out of curiosity. As I reached the end of the forested path, looking ahead of myself, I saw a vast clearing. It was beautiful, and seemed untouched by any outside forces. The tall grasses waved freely in the autumn wind, and the trees surrounding the clearing appeared as if they were the clearing's great guardians.
Busy admiring my surroundings, I heard a splashing sound beneath my feet that startled me. Water. I surveyed the area, but it didn't look there was any sort of waterbed nearby. Following the sound of my feet coming into contact with the water, I, in fact, did come across a small pond. It didn't appear to have any signs of life in it, it just was. I knelt myself down, and stared into the beauty of its reflective surface.
Mesmerized by the water, I had not noticed the figure that was now standing behind me. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked. Startled, I jumped a bit, and nearly fell forward, only to break the water's surface and plunge beneath it. After regaining myself and recovering from the small loss of balance, I rose, and turned to face the stranger. He seemed to be near, if not the same, age as myself. He seemed like any other person you might see around. "Indeed." I responded, still a bit weary of his presence. He smiled; I knew not if it was towards the way I spoke, or towards some other matter that I may have not been aware of.
The two of us stood there, staring at one another for a bit; a smile on his face, and a slightly less unnerved expression on mine. "Tell me," he began, "what is this place to you?" I was a bit confused at this question. Detecting my lack of sureness, the stranger spoke up. "You know," he began again, walking up towards the water's surface, "This is a special place to me." He stared into the water, with a reminiscent gaze in his eyes. He began speaking again, although it seemed as if he were talking to himself. "My face is reflected in these waters…" he halted, as if his mind was elsewhere. "It could be a shining grin, full of hope," he started again, "or it could be a look of somber silence, struggling with fear…" At this, he turned back around to face me. He stared into my eyes, as if reading me, and I stared back into his. "What do you see reflected in your face?" he asked me. I opened my mouth to speak, but before a word could leave it, he turned, and walked away. What do I see reflected in my face…? Rotating myself to look again for the stranger, he seemed to be gone. Turning back to face the water's surface, I stared blankly into it. "What do I see reflected in my face?" I kept asking myself this, though I could never understand. As I decided to look back into the water, it had begun to get dark, and I was forced to leave the place.

I sighed, and looked around me. A good amount of the day was still present; I still had time. I knelt down, like I had so remembered, and stared into the water. What do I see reflected in my face? I looked into the water. A face. A smile.


... Or it could be a look of somber silence struggling with fear...
What do you see reflected in your face???

Puppet on a String Theory

Philosophizing Bibliophile

20,250 Points
  • Pie Feeder 50
  • Pie Enabler 100
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Puppet on a String Theory

Philosophizing Bibliophile

20,250 Points
  • Pie Feeder 50
  • Pie Enabler 100
  • Pie Hoarder by Proxy 150
PostPosted: Sat Mar 09, 2013 8:05 am


My face is reflected in the water...
It's a shining grin full of hope...


Emptiness

I stood motionlessly in the wake of what used to be- what could have been. Staring off at the cracked and torn walls that, once upon a time, told my endless- or what I thought was to be endless- tale, I remained silent. It seemed as though I were frozen in time, along with my surroundings. And yet I could feel something… Something in which I did not recognize. It seemed all too close, and yet all so far away. I lowered my head at the thought, and upon raising it once more, my eyes once again caressed the broken walls around me. Although it was once flourishing… Was this still where I belonged? Surveying my cracked, dented, and misshapen surroundings, my mind began transforming the image of my sight into what once was. "Is this longing?" I asked the empty air. Not a word from the desolate landscape- not a single sound besides the slight reverberation of my own voice.
I extended my hand, to try and grasp the image that my mind was displaying to me. As my hand touched the once beautiful walls, as my hand were to reminiscently glide over its furnished being, I would only find that they were the same cracked and torn walls that would never be anything else, except cracked and torn.
I slowly began to glance over to my side, but only to find myself pulling away. Am I missing something? I asked myself, even though the answer was in my palm's grasp the entirety of the time. I began questioning my very being. If you do not stand for something, you will fall for anything. I heard this phrase only creating repetition in my mind. But what was to stand for when your very being had been torn down?
Unable to control myself, I dropped to my knees, and began to weep, letting my fresh tears splash down onto the cold, hard ground. I no longer knew what this location in which my weeping took place was. It was not the place that I used to know so well; it was not the place where I once belonged. It was no longer me. Upon this realization, I reached my hand onto the ground, to come into contact with the tears that had run down the sides of my face. This only brought me to more tears. As these new streams of water flowed down my face, and in my knowledge of the fact that this was no longer myself, I knew not what to do.
After recollecting my emotions and myself, I rose to my feet. I took a brief moment to once again stare at the walls, and remember my story, my legacy. And at that moment, I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Upon making another attempt, only three words left my mouth. "This is emptiness."
After coming to this conclusion, I then realized that I knew not how to go about solving it. This place was no longer where I belonged, but how could I find where it was that I belonged? It mattered not to myself how other people perceived me, and even so… How could this once beautiful realm no longer belong to me, and I to it? I began to walk forward, to wipe my dusted surroundings into something slightly less so. After a short few moments, I found myself staring at words on the wall adjacent to myself. Wherever someone is still thinking about you, wherever someone still believes in you… That is your home. That is where you belong.
Slowly, I began to lay myself onto the ground, staring up at nothingness. Emptiness. What- who am I searching for? I asked myself. What do I need? I couldn't help but wonder. I did not feel that there was anyone thinking about me- that there was no reason to do so. Did this mean that I had no home? That I did not belong? Sighing, with the back of my head pressed against the coldness of the ground, I now solely felt confused, and nothing more.
My mind was flustered, and I could not seem to collect myself. Lying in the midst of this hardened place, I felt so alone. "What is the answer?" again, I asked the empty air. And again I found no response. In all of this lacking knowledge, all of this confusion, my mind began to open.
I rose to my feet, and stood- not in the center of the room, not staring blankly at the wall that I used to know so well. I stood facing the one opposite that. Slowly I extended my arm forward, halting between every few inches. Upon opening the entrance to this place, I turned myself back around, and watched as my legacy recreated itself and carried on.


... Or it could be a look of somber silence struggling with fear...
What do you see reflected in your face???
PostPosted: Sat Mar 09, 2013 8:07 am


My face is reflected in the water...
It's a shining grin full of hope...


That should conclude my spamming of prose, for the time being. Hopefully they aren't too much of a bore.


... Or it could be a look of somber silence struggling with fear...
What do you see reflected in your face???

Puppet on a String Theory

Philosophizing Bibliophile

20,250 Points
  • Pie Feeder 50
  • Pie Enabler 100
  • Pie Hoarder by Proxy 150
Reply
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