Well, Hello Again.

*waves* Hello there.

You might remember me. I used to write to you all the time on rice paper with rich indigo inks. On brightly colored stationary, in journals both electronic and old world. Every day, in fact.

I am so sorry for neglecting you. I feel incredibly bad that for every time I got the urge to come visit, I would instead procrastinate. I had things to do! Important things. On days you made the journey home, you would sit right in front of me and stare. There was no malice behind your multi-colored eyes, just hope and a need for understanding.  Instead, I chose news sites and comics, videogames and TV over you. I chose the mundane.

You’ve gift-wrapped yourself numerous times, begging me to tug on that sexy, satin ribbon. I remember the last time I pulled off the bow. Do you? Do you recall the magic that ensued?

You’ve even visited me in dreams, only then to wake me with fevered kisses that made me sit up in bed wishing I had the energy to wrap my arms around you.

Do you even miss me? I miss me. I miss you terribly. I miss the times we had together, dancing upon the ink and page to artfully chosen music. Letting the mood carry us to worlds both known and un. Reveling in rebirth from the ashes of burned and unworthy creation, pulling something from nothing. Loving every.single.moment.

All I find now, is pretentiousness and I am lost as I traverse this world without your caress. Will you take me back? Dance with me again, whisper sweet nothings in both my ear and in my dreams. Bring me the wines of creativity and the pears of substance. Be with me again through my mercurial moments and laugh with me when I find the sun.

My muse, my love, my world.



At What Point?

Some say that our gracious God will give you only what you can handle, yet at what point do you get down on your knees and just give up?

At what point are you clued-in to the lesson? At what point do you get help? At what point does it all end?

I just want to know why.

For a pleasant while before everything fell apart, any of the other colonists could ask me how I was and I could smile with a curt nod of my head. Things were good. Great, in fact.

Now, things couldn’t be worse. There are just 12 of us left out of the original 300 that landed on Tyrith 4. Communications are gone, and while our holdout is strong, our food supply is slowly dwindling with each passing moon. Each of us eyes the other as we ration, wondering if we all wouldn’t last just a bit longer if some of us weren’t around. This mostly peaceful race have all become murderers in the sacred personal space of our minds.

There are days I’ve found myself approaching the dark void that separates us from the airlock, and as I plunge myself into the absence of light with each final step, something inside of me tells me to wait. This has happened numerous times and the message is the same. “There are bigger things about to happen. Patience.”

As I contemplate my pending and yet delayed sacrifice, my place instead is taken by an older couple, thinned from malnutrition and dehydration. The female walks close to her companion, as his hand guides the small of her back. Once vibrant violet eyes have muddied to grey as they both look onward past the void. I can smell the sweet and sour odors of their youth as they move past, accompanied by the small azure, electric archs transferred from their skin. The tiny shocks upon my fingertips fade as they move toward the door, signifying the last of their energy and a final goodbye.

On our 26th sun cycle, two more of the intimate circle chose to become one with Nasomi. Eight of us still block ours ears at the hiss of the hatch and the high pitched whine of our saturated lungs slowly fading to gurgling breaths and then silence. Two of us do not.

And so it is how we live. No words accompany our prayers to our God. No songs are resung in our most desperate hour. I leave these words for anyone who may find them in the days and years to come, long as they last in the dark coal that scribes them.

My name is Larix and I am sure that today will be the day I annoint myself to the sun. I am tired of waiting for something to happen. I am tired of being patient.