Rumble - Camren

Intro

Between the gray of consciousness and the obsidian where dreams ebb and flow, there is a wishbone window. And trapped in its glass, a single silver shard of enlightenment. It is this mystics search for. The truth of the Holy Grail. It is this believers pray for. The spark, alpha and omega. It is this the gilded claim to hold in the cups of their hands. But what of those who plunge into slumber, who snap from sleeps embrace? What of those who measure their tomorrows with finite numbers, cross them off their calendars one by one? Some say death is a doorway, belief the key. Others claim you inly have to stumble across the threshold to glimpse a hundred billion universes in the blink of a single silver shard.

That's what people keep telling me. Faith that things will get better. Faith that bad things happen for a reason. Implicit in that ridiculous statement is the hand of some extraterrestrial magician. Some all-powerful creator, which, if his faithful want to be totally frank about it, would also make him/her/it an omnipotent destroyer. because if some God carefully sows each seed of life, he is also flint for the relentless sun beating down upon his crops until they wither into dust. Zygotes to ashes or some other poignant phrase. And why would any of that make someone feel better about snuffling out? The end result is the same. You get a few years in this sad, devolving planet.

If you're lucky, you experience love, someone or two or three to gentle your time, filk the hollow spaces. If you're really fortunate, the good outweighs the bad. In my eighteen years all I've seen is shit tipping the scales.