Sh. You can't speak loudly here. Don't look people in the eye--too aggressive. Don't talk about things that used to be. Don't talk at all--that's even better.
Welcome to the quiet town. We're just a little dot on the map, true, but everything we need is right here. N(more)o need to go anywhere else. No need to think of the outside world. No need to yell. Our biggest pride is our self-sufficiency. It's our motto.
See her? That's Mrs. Monroe. She's been here for years and years, but we don't talk to her. That's the first rule to know if you move here. Mrs. Monroe is crazy. She says everyone here is crazier than her. But we know that's not true. Hold your head down, just walk on past her and maybe she won't call to you...
Look away. Keep walking. How does she know your name already, that crazy old bat? She's insane. No. Stop it. Don't go over...
"Sharon, you moved here yesterday, right?"
"Oh, don't call me that. Call me Sue. Sue Monroe. No one's called me Sue for a long time, not since this town went to the crazies."
You're going to become crazy like Mrs. Monroe, Sharon, I can see it now. You'll sit on the porch and shout your memories to the sky. Get back here. Don't make me yell.
"See, Sharon, everyone's so quiet. Docile like dogs. This town has gone to the dogs."
"Well, Sharon, it started when somebody decided to keep quiet. They didn't want to offend nobody, and so they didn't say a peep."
Sharon, come back. Sharon. She's making you crazy. Just keep quiet and you'll fit in just fine.
"Oh, shut it, you crazy kid. I remember when we still had voices..."(less)
I remember when there was peace. I remember when dust didn't clog the sky, when you could go through the night without being yanked out of sleep to the sound of gunfire and flash and whistle of bombs in the distance. I remember when the sky wasn't a constant(more) red and yellow haze, I remember the stars and the moon the sunrise and the sunset. I remember when there weren't buildings laying in rubble, when the streets were whole and the sidewalks in one piece, when there were no bodies sprawled across your path, sometimes in pools of blood and sometimes blue from the cold. I remember what it was like to be able to run out and play and not have to worry about the enemy or bombs or where the nearest basement was. I remember when your grandmother and grandfather were still alive, when your father wasn't off fighting and dying alongside your brother.
But you don't. You remember nothing of peace, of your grand parents, of your father or your brother. All you will ever remember is a war-torn land, a hazy sky, and your mother, the only family you know of, sobbing every night because of the mistakes she made and the memories of a time she wants back.
Two lovers were sitting hand in hand comfortably at a park bench, gazing towards the incandescent sunset. The breeze blew pasted the man known as John, streaming across his wrinkles has made John aware of his wizened features. Kids can be heard frolicking about in the field close by,(more) the sound of joy reaching the seasoned ears of Mary. Mary grew more reminiscent, she felt a sense of elation recalling to a time that was.
"John," Mary whispered."mmh," Her husband replied with a gentle grunt. "Remember when we first met?" Mary questioned while shifting her body to face him. "How could I forget?" John said as he twirled the edge of his mustache. "Once there was a man," John began as he motioned his wife to sit snugly against him. "Who thought he would never fall in love..." John said, trailing at the end. "Then he sees the most breathtaking beauty while walking through the park," John continued. "Then-"
"Then this man proposed to the woman on the spot," Mary interrupted with smile stretched across her face. "And they been together for 64 years," John finished while moving his hands around her waist. "It was really strange to propose with a rubber band," Mary giggled, ignoring the fact that a man would propose out of the blue. "It was the only alternative to a ring I have," John blushed.
Mary held out her arm, the rubber band sat firmly on her wrist. She returned her gaze towards her husband while resting her head on his shoulders. "I love you," She said with warmth. "I love you too."(less)
Remember when I kept on catching you looking at me in band class? When you would tease me and pretend you could play a drum roll, except your technique was totally off and we were both laughing and you got yelled at to sit in the right seat?
Remember when we went to the Broadmoor to perform, and the night before you pushed me into the pool? It could have been anyone else. Or no one at all. And maybe you felt peer pressured into it. But I stayed up until 1 AM pondering over your intentions behind it. That, and the three cups of coffee I'd drank.
Remember when we walked by the lake together? Sure it was with the rest of the band, but we laughed at the ducks waddling along the path. We laughed at the many pictures hanging on the hallways of the Broadmoor (Obama had been there! Or maybe it was Romney...or McCain...)
Remember when we started sitting together during Band Camp and you were surprised at my change of personality? How I'd sass you and you thought it fit me quite well. Then marching season flew past in a blur and State came and went, and we made great memories but no longer with each other.
And now you're quitting band, the only tie I really ever solidly had you for, and I wonder if all I will ever say to you is "Remember when..." (less)
You probably don't remember when our souls were young. We frolicked in the fields, and there were no cities - except for the ones we built in the sand.
And then we constructed the tower of Babel - to become above everything else, to rise above the animality of(more) our previous existence. The human language still exists, it's just lost.
Do you remember when we hunted? Walking through the forests endlessly with a bow and a knife, listening to the spirits talk. They would guide us to survival.
Do you remember when we climbed? The mountain Gods were harsh and yet, when we found them, we knew reality. The spirit of the mountain that guided our tiny band, and told us how to live, how to survive.
Do you remember when we built? The new cities? The columns, the marble, the great plazas to speak? Do you remember when we talked to Socrates and that fucker would only ever ask us questions?
Do you remember when we fought? Do you remember how we fought? For land, for honor, for women, for love, for hate, for father, for mother, for to die.
Do you remember when we died? It was the pleasant experience.
Do you remember when the cities fell? And we returned to the villages? To live with magic once again. But do you remember when we were persecuted? For awhile there, we were only allowed to believe one reality, one saving grace - how silly was that?
Do you remember when we awoke? The dream had been pleasant. But it was over.
Reality begins now. Do you remember when we changed it all? When we shaped it to our every whim, and we made it good once again. Do you remember?(less)
Remember when we used to stay out all night like sitting ducks waiting for the sunrise to reach out over the trees like ribbons? When we would take turns sipping from an early morning coffee that was funded by nickels found on the sidewalk and dimes buried in car(more) seats? When we would talk about everything as if our mouths had an on off switch stuck at on?
Long summer days cooling down on the surface of the green lake, when the conversations of others seemed in the near distance and all that was in our bubble was us, the water, and a sense of tranquility.
Cool nights spend in light jackets, driving around. Singing t(more)o the stars and moon and laughing to the breeze. We were a part of the world and what we had was larger than life, immortal, infinite.
I remember when things were not so difficult. I remember when the weight of the world was on someone else's shoulders and the dark was a caring friend. When did it change?
You tell me that you miss me. What can I tell you? I haven't gone anywhere. I'm still here. I haven't left. I want things to change back too, but I don't know how to get there. I can't on my own. Who was I before? Who am I now? Not the same, that's for sure. I don't remember when things changed. I don't remember how. I don't remember. (less)
There were stars in your eyes then, shining through the darkness; you were the lighthouse standing tall and proud and strong at the edge of the world. The sun lay down and kissed your feet every night and she would murmur your name as though the universes you held(more) in the tips of your fingers were God, until with a crack you split the cosmos apart and all the nebulae went still and quiet and watchful.
What are you now, trapped in a glittering shattered glass prison, fighting for the conservation of dark matter but not the more important matters, lowering your rotted gaze from her reflection and turning your back to her as she crouches over her clasped bloody hands: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, God, please forgive me, God forgive me"; but the stars have all fallen and painted themselves black, and there's nowhere left for them to go but down.(less)
Remember when we used to do things for fun. When everything was just a form of art.The wall i painted with crayons for no apparent reason.The poem in the 4 grade,and the first article i wrote that i thought was good.Remember when you did thinks and not think about(more) them and when you got hurt for the same reason.Remember when you learned from your mistakes, neither do I.I just cant remember when did i start to think before i did what i wanted to do. It was around the time when other people told me what i wanted to do or should do.
Told me what i wanted to be or do is not right, unrealistic or stupid. I remember when i cared what they think. Now i can think for myself. And i will always remember the time i asked myself what i wanted to do and did it, not thinking to much about it.(less)