Bursts Of Words

The Riviting Story

Dying isn't hard. It's quite simple. I am a firm believer of The Great Story and for that my family has striped me of our-their name, my schooling, my freedom, and my given religious affinity, which is okay because I believed in none of them. They gave me my straight jacket. They gave me admission into a religious mental institution out of love and in hopes that I would find God again. What they don't know is that He never left me. He just doesn't have one all knowing spirit or a son named Jesus. And He doesn't have a gender. I believe in The Great Story because books are what make sense to me and it is the best way to explain what I think because everyone won't stop asking me.

I don't believe in the family name Reynolds because if it means I have to be a Catholic lawyer or doctor who graduated from Harvard or Yale, have a husband who I live in a grand white house with a picket fence then no, I'll pass. I don't believe in schooling because high-end expensive schools that my parents sent me to don't like it when you ask too many questions and only teach you how to take a test and the idea that many of my classmates will someday go into the world and when asked their own opinions on politics or life, will have to think back to what Mr. So-and-so would say and "Hmm I remember learning about that" as they desperately try remember what was on the final because THAT'S what they remember. No, I'm not sorry for wanting to actually learn and not how to get the best score on my exam. As for freedom, I was never free before. If anything I'm more free than I ever was lying on this thin white cott staring at the cross from across the room. Here, I can at least think my own way whether anyone listens or not but deep down I know it is within ourselves that the power of liberation lives. We let ourselves go. We will believe in what ever we want whether you want to or not, the fight is not with others but within yourself. This, The Great Story taught me.

As I lay on these white sheets staring at the ceiling of my white room I remember the day I learned what Time really was. What I have learned is that Life and Time are the true dichotomy. I learned that Death is merely an agent of Time sent as a disguise to be what appears as the opposite of Life but this is simply not the case. Life and Time are the ultimate foils in The Great Story.

Once I face Death, I know I will flinch. But not from His gaunt, pale, and bony face, or the rippling in His night black cloak, or the gleam of His blade. My immediate reaction will be because Time is unforgiving and full of surprises. Now Time is not an all around jerk. Time does not forgive, because Time does not regret, and when examined, there is an irresistible beauty to it. Yes, Life comes to being for a person after an approximated nine months and even at a person's beginning their clock ticks. Waiting for Time to prey. But Time needs Life in order for it to be experienced and felt. A cyclical process that makes The Great Story so repeatative. Makes it a series of things to learn from over and over again.

No, I dont get to spread my word. No I don't get to leave this place to write my revelations. I get fed crazy pills, attend daily church mass, learn the word of the Lord, recieve a check up from my parents on how much they miss me and that they pray for me. Yeah, I pray for me too.

Now I'm not saying that Catholicism is necessarily wrong, nor is any other religion. Hell, I'm not even saying I'm right. What I'm saying is that whatever gets someone through the day, let them do it. You have the power and their is something bigger than you. But I believe in The Great Story. I believe that one day, we will know what is so great about that thing that's bigger than us, we will actually know. I think that we are put on this world, not to do the work of someone else but to do our own. We have choice because Change is another character in The Great Story.

But for now, I will take my pills, go to my church sessions, and learn the Bible because as long as I know what I know, I'm free. Because I willed it. I am my own liberator. And once I'm ready, my story is in front of me waiting for me to write it, for it will be apart of the compilation that is The Great Story. That will be when I met Time's associate, Death. And as I kiss Life goodbye on her plump and warm cheek, I will greet Death with open arms and bow to Time. I have given up on the attempts to control Time and have been forgiven by becoming free. And as I board the boat built by Change to join Death I will know that I not only believe in something bigger but I will finally rest in its arms.

I have lived by books and have been inspired by words and so as Time goes on and history is made, stories are what makes Life livable and mine will drift into the abyss of the past; I will be okay. I will be okay because I am okay. And for now I close my eyes and give into the thin white cott, not waiting anymore but living not only my Life but my Time.

And when Death comes I will not be afraid.
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"Karina, are you up sweetie? It's time for your medicine and then you need to come downstairs soon so you won't miss morning grace. Can I come in?"

"Yes."

I am in my night gown as Maria, my nurse for the ward I am in, brings in a small tray with 3 cups of pills and 3 glass of water. We both have on white but hers are more like scrubs while mine are for the patients in this asylum.

"How were you dreams, dear?" She asked, her words dripping with maple syrup.

"Great. Full of revelations." I saw in a tone not to mock her but not unkind.

It doesn't help. Maria gives me that look she always does when she think my dreams were spent with Satan. "What kinda of revelations?" She hands me my cup of pills and my small glass of water and I down them one after the other before answering.

"One that told me when Death, a friend of Time, comes I shall be ready." I skipped passed her knowing she wouldn't understand and the words I've wasted trying to explain it will be in more vain if I tried again.