by the end of august it had seemed that the wait was becoming unbearable, that sensation that things had drawn on far too long and that place seemed inescapable.
so as he sat out on the front step, cracked and chipped after so many years of feet bludgeoning it without hesitation, the thought that something had to be done was birthed in the depths of his mind. at first nothing more than a wisp of fog, a barely recognizable streak of grey in an ocean of murky darkness that is at once the birthplace and dying grounds of all thoughts.
the wisp grew larger, slowly at first, imperceptible even, until it reached a point where it was no longer possible to ignore that there was something visible in the undying dark. and then the fog bank roiled in, rapidly and with great force, filling the world with the idea that it had come from.
it was a change from the dark. this was the idea. change.
the concrete steps were warm from the sun, enough to make the discomfort of sitting on them slightly less noticeable. ideas roll in at the simplest times. sitting on the front step, out in the sun, with fog in the mind that parted to show what lay beyond. determination.
he stood up now, stretching his arms over his head and basking in the glow of the afternoon sun as it shone down over the world. he stood on the steps as he had many times before, looking out at a scene he had watched hardly change since childhood. what change was there to be had here if the world around him would not recognize it.
this static realm he once all to readily called home had become dulled over the years since he had first gone. indeed it was still his home, but never in the same way it had been before.
he had left his home in many places.
so he left that place once again.
and went back to the other place where he wanted to be.
he went back to the place where the scene wasn't always the same.
he went back to the place where he knew he could find the change he had been looking for.
but when he got there, he found that perhaps change was harder to find than he had wanted.
so as he sat out on the front step, cracked and chipped after so many years of feet bludgeoning it without hesitation, the thought that something had to be done was birthed in the depths of his mind. at first nothing more than a wisp of fog, a barely recognizable streak of grey in an ocean of murky darkness that is at once the birthplace and dying grounds of all thoughts.
the wisp grew larger, slowly at first, imperceptible even, until it reached a point where it was no longer possible to ignore that there was something visible in the undying dark. and then the fog bank roiled in, rapidly and with great force, filling the world with the idea that it had come from.
it was a change from the dark. this was the idea. change.
the concrete steps were warm from the sun, enough to make the discomfort of sitting on them slightly less noticeable. ideas roll in at the simplest times. sitting on the front step, out in the sun, with fog in the mind that parted to show what lay beyond. determination.
he stood up now, stretching his arms over his head and basking in the glow of the afternoon sun as it shone down over the world. he stood on the steps as he had many times before, looking out at a scene he had watched hardly change since childhood. what change was there to be had here if the world around him would not recognize it.
this static realm he once all to readily called home had become dulled over the years since he had first gone. indeed it was still his home, but never in the same way it had been before.
he had left his home in many places.
so he left that place once again.
and went back to the other place where he wanted to be.
he went back to the place where the scene wasn't always the same.
he went back to the place where he knew he could find the change he had been looking for.
but when he got there, he found that perhaps change was harder to find than he had wanted.
i took over the world at 12:12 PM
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