SENTANCE US TO FRAGILE PATHS

“One…. Two…. Three… Four… Five…. Six…. Seven…. Eight…. Nine…. Ten……” He would count himself out everytime, clenching his fists and cursing the reality that would snatch him out of her hands. From subtle kisses to the charming awkward remarks, Jayland was home. A dreamy home in the clouds that he wished to live in all the time, but unfortunately, he was only a crash dummy in the wide world of experimentation among a greedy world that hungered for a Utopia. Since the fabric of the earth had been torn, the attitudes and tendencies of the human being had drastically took a turn for the worst. He felt alone, yet so privileged. He stood among the few that began their journeys early. The few that had the chance to escape from a crippling terrain before the rest of the starving souls that lingered around him, unaware of the Heaven that he experienced, daily.

“How’s it goin’ in there Chester?”

     Chester heard the Doctor’s words, but with a stale overtone of the pleasant frequencies still leaving his head, which was now being filled with cares and concerns, foreign concepts in Jayland. 

“Damn it Dr. Freed. 10 more minutes, you never give me enough time!”

Chester shouted. The anxious Doctor lifted his head, and a wide grin spread from ear to ear across his face. 

“That great, huh?!” he said.

“Breathtaking Dr. Freed, absolutely breathtaking.” 

     Ironically enough, the young man was loosing his breath as he continued with the detailed explanation of his journey. He began to peel off the electrodes that we glued to his skin, and he removed the helmet from his head, so that he could look the Doctor in the eye as he spoke.    

“It just keeps getting better Freed. I’ve met a girl, and she is completely wonderful in every way!”

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“She is stunningly beautiful, with a smile that would light up every dark corner of this Hell hole. She probably the most interesting person I’ve ever met. I mean, Freed, she’s a BEEKEEPER.

Dr. Freed interrupted him quickly.

“Wait, there are bees in Jayland? We’ll have to take care of that immediately.”

“What are you talking about Dr. Freed?!” Chester shouted with a vibrant sense of passion in his voice. 

“Chester… Bees sting people, people don’t like being stung.” he replied, as though he was talking to an uneducated school boy. 

“How are we supposed to get Honey Dr. Freed? Plus they’re extremely interesting to watch!” said Chester.

“I’m sure you weren’t thinking of how interesting they were after they stung you.” snarled the Doctor

“It was worth it Doctor.” Chester’s deep, convincing eyes were inspiration enough to change the subject.

“Chester, you are the test subject to what could save all of human kind. I need you to stay focused, playing beekeeper doesn’t seem too productive.” said Dr. Freed.

Chester calmed himself, and slowly replied, “I am aware Doctor, but isn’t Jayland supposed to be an escape from our current reality? I’ve had such a great time in that dreamworld. Jayland is supposed to make us happy, a place where we can enjoy what is new, and beautiful. A place where we can forget how terrible our crumbling world has become, a place where we can start over, and focus on what we enjoy.”

Dr. Freed stared blankly at Chester Blemington for a while.

“So you really like this girl?” he said finally.

Chester’s face immediately lit up once more.

“Doctor, she is so great, too great to be true. Everything I’ve been looking for, you’d love her!” said Chester.

“You’ve done good Blemington. See you tomorrow.” The Doctor then left the testing lab.

“These general satisfactions could not be more utterly dissatisfying.”  He looked up in a faint disposition and arose to a monotonous occasion once more. “You’re crazy.” Said Jed, the subtle, philosophical dreamer that seemed to be the only one that stood by him. “Ever since you’ve been alone, you’ve been acting crazy.” He knew it was the truth. He knew that the daylight had become a temple of discomfort, and he only dreamed of the day when he could once again, welcome it with open arms. “Its time to move  forward Jamison. Its time to get up. Wake up.” Suddenly the breeze felt comforting, and although Jed was just a lost figment inside of him, he knew that he was right. He rushed to his feet and planted himself in the only stable place that he knew, his mirror. “Its your fault.” He shouted. “YOU weren’t good enough!” It had been years since he’d seen the mistress, and quite frankly he could safely say that he had conquered her. Fully, without question. But his boring days and lonely nights, and an imaginary friend had only disproved his theory and brought him to the conclusion of a bitter, tasteless insanity. Meet Jamison. A poor boy, broken from love that collapsed so heavily onto him, that his delusional case was one, literally unheard of. He had been lost for ages, drowning in a strive for wit and comprehension. Lurking forward into the depths of a dangerous land, a land without love, but also without war. The compromise that he had made was the perfect formula for sheer discontentment and the saddest intamative reality that one would ever have to see. Fortunately things would change for Jamison, fortunately, he would be alone for only a short while longer, but bear with me. His story is not an easy one to tell. -Jed

Alone. We used to sit before the transformation. We would breathe each other’s air and bask in our enjoyment just for the hell of it. You’d peer over, brightly, with acclimations of a tainted sorrow. I’d brush your cheek fluently, and you’d embrace the brush, and all the pain would disintegrate into the lovely accompaniment of my thick, black hair. I loved you. I believe it with all I am, but we’re on different planets now. You are stuck, a child, and I am growing. Your articulation hasn’t improved, although your beauty has. Damn your beauty. Damn the fact that inside the frame you meet the tedious criteria that no other has achieved. Damn you, the mistress. Damn you.   

For the record, I’m not sure how he ended up here, but the clever devils that swarm around him are tragically inspiring. So he sits alone, without a companion, wishing that the bitch of a shadow would come back to life and take the devils from him. He patiently waits in the seat that that he found, abandoned behind the Gate. The sense of hope gains solidity quaintly each day in the seat, and as he watches himself grow, he can never be certain if the hope swells or stiffens. God help him now. 

I never stopped loving you, and now I feel myself being drawn towards the land where you are. The land I couldn’t wait to escape from. You take on my thoughts with a subtle attack. And I know that the reality will never actually kick in, but we all have dreams don’t we. It’s not healthy, I never said that it was, but unlike the rest of my priorities, I can pretend that it is. Now lets say that the only part of you that I miss is the solid interactions that become more and more faded as each day passes. Well that would make my situation a hell of a lot better than it is. My simple proposition is a slight push in the right direction. A sign or a new light that will cease this thought that lays in the cage of my mind. Thank you, and good day.