Nostradamus

I began this rather interesting stream of consciousness writing project while I was high a while back. I was a bit apprehensive when I recovered the project, but is actually rather quaint. Enjoy the weirdness. See if you can spot the brand new word I created.

 

Alaska: is the feeling of steam from a mint tea, rising out of the cup to caress and tingle against your face. There is a song of birds, and reeds, and a growing hum that will one day over take it all.

Alabama: is the sound of a metal rail bending in and out of shape, as in the ancient prophecy. To this emanation the children with blond smiles dance the dance of daffodils. Soon they will know the language in the bending, soon they will hear, soon they will understand, soon it will be too late.

Arizona: is the flick of a latch once opened long ago, whose unknown occupants fled, and now stare down at the highest thrown, whispering through the mouths of kings to further an unknowable agenda. And on that day, when their ends are finally met, still no one will know them, and further, no one on earth will ever know the part that each of us surely has played.

Arkansas: is a word in the language of lizards, it means both ‘a call to arms” and “a defeat”, as well as the sociophilisophical state of “being nowhere at once”. A concept, the meaning of which is culturally untranslatable. It is known that this idea played a large part in the losing and winning of key battles in the wars of the first eon, when evolution became a right, before its history was lost and it’s science born.

California: is the blue sky on a cold rainy day. It’s the naive expression of children with lipstick smeared across their teeth, smiling ignorantly, shuffling to work in their Mommy Heels. It’s the lonely moment of fear a child feels when the blazer he wears of ten sizes too large, is the next week ten sizes larger, one day to realize, too late that he is locked away in a poly blend prison.

Colorado: is still late. It’s always been late, since the first day it arrived. The technician had been called at first notice of defect, everyone present simply agreed to pretend that nothing was wrong, certain that it would be fixed before anyone noticed. No one came. Apparently the parent firm was unexpectedly fossilized. However, there are a few more chronologically attuned individuals, calling themselves The Technicians, who have noticed, and are taking action, but as the manual had been lost millennia before the package arrived, there is no way to know what will happen when the Colorado correction occurs. Implications range from some sort of static chronoplasmic discharge, to the destruction of earth, or time, or nothing. Nothing at all could happen, or everything, all at once, perhaps. Perhaps it already did.

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2 thoughts on “Nostradamus

  1. Reads like a poetic Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy entry!

    Although, despite rereading several times, I can’t identify the new word, except maybe Momy Heals although could just be a variation of Mommy Heals? *ponders*

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