Bubbles_glow

≡ Inside Kaleidoscope Dreams ≡

 
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  • Childhood
  • Artists
  • Fears
  • Death
  • Parenthood
  • Technology
  • Oddities
  • School
  • First Person Narrative
  • Second Person Narrative
  • Third Person Narrative
Inside Kaleidoscope Dreams
 
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Step Inside The Kaleidoscope

Notice the shards -- the collected pieces of colors -- the kaleidoscope of voices that inhabit our minds. Distant echoes that seem at once so familiar and yet so strange, too. These are the stories being told every day inside of our lives, although often they are silenced by the world around us. Go ahead and twist the kaleidoscope. Change your view. Wander into the narrative. Consider yourself invited.

-- Kevin


Leaves Balloon Death Ants Yawn Guitar Threads Black_friday Disconnect Cat Tears Godzilla Test Bridge Winner Headless Blood Performance Ghost Smog Er Elevator
 
Bridge
Bridge

You wish you had been honest. Instead, there they wait. On the other side of the river, urging you on. Between you and them is this  log, a slippery bridge over a raging gorge that barrels down from the mountains to the town below. If you had been honest, and owned up to your fears of heights and crossing these logs, you would not have all five of them staring at you, cursing at you to get moving before the sun goes down. If you had been honest, you would not be frozen here. Immobile. Honesty was never your strong suit, anyway. You think of this as you inch your left foot forward. There is green moss on this tree and the bark is crumbling. This tree has been here for a long time. It has witnessed much in this world and it cares not one whit about your fear. It is only there. Last night's rains make the bridge even more treacherous. The path seems slick. They're talking to themselves. One shakes a head and begins moving on. The others look back at you, wave their hands and then, in disgust, follow the path into the darkening woods. You remain, now alone, on the other side of the gap, wondering how this will end. Will you retreat? Or move forward? Your right foot crosses your left. You are leaving the solid world behind but the fear races through you. You can't do this. You can do this. Voices compete in your head in a battle against the sound of the rushing water. Don't look down. Whatever you do, don't look down. They are now long gone. The woods are silent. It's your decision -- move on or go back. Forward or retreat. At long last, your inability to be true to yourself is at hand and you  realize that you are not ready. No one ever is.