Waiting...2

(6,200,871,183,192,934,984,000 and not stopping

In some other estranged ice Universe stands a stack of sealed boxes; each time I encounter another obstacle I ship it off in a little partridge package.


But every so often I can't quite cram whatever it is that's antagonizing me into a mildly sized box.  In turn, this predicament only creates one more problem for me to solve and this tactic of running away ends up vexing me even more.

And even though the door from my dreams was the right one, I was brought to the wrong place.


Everything went as planned...I made it to 17th and Propelgate and turned the doorknob that somehow wasn't hot and made it down the long kaleidoscope hallway, chased by the heat that burned me to the bone in the 7 or 8 minutes it took me from my apartment.  Just like what I was told in my dream, the plasmic pool met me in an open door at the end of the hallway and, as the world I'd known my entire life was dissipated behind me, I dove into a fresh start.


My burns were cooled as I was handed another body.  My eyes that were nearly blinded from the sun saw new colors, beyond the spectrum of my past reality.  One of them shone so profoundly to me it momentarily-by some cathartic force-put me in harmony with the life I left behind and all felt, okay.


My rapture ceased when a forest was placed in my path. It came so abruptly in the center of the intergalactic portal I was ascending through that it scared and halted me.


I had never seen trees of the sort.  In the leaves shown incandescent words and those words were the ones that I needed to proceed towards my desired Universe.  One of the trees was split in half by a meteor, or some form of space junk, and I got a glimpse into the hydrochronology of this existence.  However, there were far too many rings to count.  They only distracted me.  


Another distraction-a breeze of hues up and down the color collective-passed through the leaves of the trees and the answers I needed.  It was beautiful but only aesthetic and I became inebriated in it as it took me away from what I really should've been watching.  Ultimately, it lead me here. 


The forest disappeared and I was left in darkness.  A sign, telling me there was no more time to study. In the absence of the forest came a question.  It wasn't audible, just a knowing.  I didn't hear it, I understood it.  


The question can't really be expressed...with words that is.  I guess, at its core, it was really just an inquiry, making me wonder what I wanted most and where I thought I could find it.  The leaves of the trees that were once swaying before me told me what I needed most, but I was too distracted by their beauty.


My answer, and all I could think about was that "She is me.  I am her". Someway it understood my answer and I was and taken here.  At my arrival, I couldn't help but feel this wasn't the place I needed most.


That's behind me, my poor sense of judgment is what brought me here and I must deal.   I felt at once what I did was wrong.  I felt that I wouldn't belong.  The worst of it all is it's how I felt before I met her and again after I learned the hard way that we were all dying.  I hoped a new place would bring about a change for myself.  


There's going to be a great deal of things to get used to...for one, the time.  As mentioned above there are no days, months or years here.  There is no "after meridian" nor a "post midday".  There is just a long count, a continuum of seconds that I guess began in the digital age and has been serving these people ever since.  As communication has been difficult so far-I will explain why later-I have yet to really communicate with anyone as I am still an outsider/visitor, I'm not up on the exact measurement of time, but I have heard several slang references about it all:


Some people refer to the time by the billionth place, "I'll meet you at 6 and count".  Other people go as far as the quadrillionth place, "I have to pick her up X at 6, 800, 200." and for those nostalgic that remember when this new way of keeping time came to be, they go all the way from the sextillionth digit(seeing as it's in the 6) to the last of the hundredth.  That may seem like a while for someone to live, but people live longer in this reality.  Science seems to have really progressed, at least, compared to where I'm from.


I still am not sure, but I'm lead to believe these people have survived the apocalypse that dinosaured my reality.


I'll also have to get used to the skies.  As the day begins, it starts white and clear and eventually changes throughout the entire color spectrum, from white to red to orange to yellow to indigo to violet. Then, for what would be an hour's time where I'm used to, it's dark.  Entirely, but there are so many artificial lights here you would never know.


With this limited darkness and immense light pollution, at least, in the Metropolis portion of this existence I'm currently staying in, I have yet to see any stars, other than the sun.  I know they're here.  They have to be.  I'm still waiting to hear it fall and I know it's the link that's between here and where I come from.


I would write about the weather, but she told me to never talk about the weather.  It changes, just like anywhere else.  There are bigger things to talk about.


They don't "talk" here.  Much like the knowing and understanding I experienced in the intergalactic portal that brought me, there are no audible forms of communication.  I have yet to really catch on, but people here simply understand one another.  I've come to understand vision is vital to communication because whenever I "hear" what people are saying I am looking directly at them and momentarily they may look at me.  Much like voices floating around, conversation here is just as ubiquitous, or it may even be more.  


I find that if I close my eyes or even avoid any type of eye contact, everything is silent.  It's both frightening and relieving.  In the parks here I see people staring directly at trees or books or even just there arms.  They must be experiencing this silence as well.


So, until I am able to reach out and until I am able to recover from my mistake I will continue as a guest.  I've been without food and water for two days, or however days are counted here.  Possibly the current terminology is two trillionths.  I'm also still getting used to my new body.  Something about this new reality made me sick, even though I hadn't anything to eat for a long time before I came here.  So I've been surviving, or however you look at it off of the putrid vomit smell on my sleeve.  Whenever my stomach growls I take in the awful aroma of past sickness.


And while all of this may seem difficult, the part I'm struggling most with is the aforementioned conception that I don't really belong.  It's something internal, that I hoped starting anew would help me forget, but it's just as memorable as ever.  Maybe I'm dwelling on it too much.  Maybe I'll find her and she'll remove it all over again.


I haven't gotten anything from here though, she may not even be here.  I've seen, or felt or maybe even "heard" rather, a good amount of the bodies I knew from previous realities.  Most existences here are far from their counterparts as I've come to know them.  It was a real sight, seeing Andrew, someone I graduated with who had swastika bumper stickers walk out of a Synagogue.  These are the types of radical opposites I'm talking about.  I almost approached him but that was shortly after I came here and started feeling ill.  He looked Orthodox, sideburns and all and that should be an indicator of when to find him on the Sabbath, however they honor it here.


The dark "hour" is coming and I'd like to get some rest.  I hope to both find myself and find myself here.  I hope I can write again.  And find her, all over again.


If anyone finds this, forgive my intrusion.


-AJ"