A new start for the upper hemisphere/ Finally, a brand new cycle will proceed/ Say hello to the actual new year/ This season is like a brand new frontier/ Now is the time if you plan to succeed;/ A new start for the upper hemisphere/ The dreams bound to blossom all begin here/ Easy goings are ready to gain speed/ Say hello to the actual new year/ Spring is the time to leave behind the fear/ Virtuous birth is beautiful indeed/ A new start in the upper hemisphere/ Take the time to enjoy those birds you hear/ Their song is the song of the Earth, pay heed;/ Say hello to the actual new year/ Look ahead to your future there, so clear/ These are the moments to plant your best seed/ A new start for the upper hemisphere/ Say hello to the actual new year
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Stardust falls gently. Stardust falls on you like time and spectacular moments. You wake up unaware of the hope and magic falling from above like the softest precipitation. When you went to sleep it was just another sullen day on Earth. A duty to assist in deer gutting greets you with a simultaneous opportunity to pitch for publishing money. A somewhat typical situation. Here in New Endland.
Stardust is uncharacteristic rejection of sleep. Hours spent adjusting and injecting words instead. Introducing you to the Zeta Reticuli. Because didn't you know 'the grays' have a name?
Stardust is the chatting about your arrest with a long lost acquaintance on the internet when the lawyer calls you about the very same topic. The courts are dropping the felony. Stardust is not being a felon.
Stardust is your most enlightened annual friend. A sharing of a single year worth of the good knowledge. Volleying circumstance for points of meaning. Sharing your understandings of the ten dimensions. Meta physics or physics? What do you think? I think physics is how we perceive the meta-physics. But really, that is the least of our concern.
A cigar filled with marijuana is stardust. A new place. Expensive toys on the walls and expensive electronics. Military money. A new person. Shaved head reggae listening, sophisticated video game playing, war veteran, friend of a friend. Come to think of it- yesterday- yesterday I met someone similar but different. I don't meet people... Stardust is new people.
Stardust is an inconspicuous drug deal.
Stardust is a star that has been suspicious lately. In the trees at an indiscernible direction. Try to remember... East, maybe? The car turns. The driver can see it now. He says it's blinking. Gotta be the autumn tree line. Break a back bending behind a seat and the object is blinking. The star is blinking. On, off. On, off. On, off. On, off. On, off. We pulled over by a harvested corn field. We stared.
Stardust is what happens to the pressure in your head when the extraordinary object stares back at you. I've felt it once before. Recently. Pressure rises from your brain stem into your skull and through your central nervous system. The other person feels it, too. Or they were asleep.
Stardust is standing by a running car at the edge of a cornfield and looking up and out while telling your lover over the phone about what you're seeing. It's the separate blurry white orb lofting through some haze toward the sparkling red, blue, and golden object. Colors rolling and fading in and out and always sparkling. The object fades quick and appears elsewhere to the left a ways. It hangs a moment, fades and appears back where it originally hovered to the right.
Stardust is a distant police siren, and we need to stop talking about UFO's on cell phones and go.
Stardust is having witnessed that with the perfect person.
Back at the van I drive home. Stardust is a jarring and stimulating highway hypnosis. The object is still there. Almost by my parent's house except further north. I believe when it moved it may have shifted position to somewhere above where I live.
Stardust is the officer with his lights showing solid colors. The pig is onto something.
Stardust is telling my mother about my day. Forgive my transgressions mother. I saw intelligent life in the sky. From the hollow, she says. Biggelow Hollow, home to alien activity. Exactly where that light was above and my new favorite place to be.
Wait. A ladybug is suffering. I can feel it because I caused it.
Anyway, stardust is a lover on their way and the final word of a poem.
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For whatever reason the Tiger cub walked away into the jungle and the Child walking with him split in two. They're paths diverged; one half of the Twin went with the Tiger to the wild, the other half went off alone down the path toward the city. As the Tiger grew, the Child in his care remained young. The Tiger guarded the everlasting child through the wilds. The Boy's inner child was protected from harm.
The Tiger, in spirit, traveled with and watched over the Boy as he moved through the culture of poison. The Boy grew into an Artist, on a separate path, confident in his feral companion showing him the way. The ghost of an impeccable Tiger; an intrinsic presence subtly appearing as a form through the window in a foggy mirror; eyes reflecting lightning through the rain; appearing at times when all that was necessary was to remind the Boy of his Brother wandering with the Tiger; to go within during troubling moments and locate what mattered most. As an Artist, and as a Student, his Teachers tried to steal what was in safe keeping and could not be taken, the Artist thus remained confident in his feral spirit.
The Tiger understood the Child must be returned. The Tiger and the Artist reunite; Tiger relinquishes spirit, a Man vindicates the Child within, two become one; the Tiger and the lone Twin walk together, companions, again for whatever reason.
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*If the writing sounds plastic, so should the characters.*
Normal Dink: I think my heart stopped.
Innocent sexy girl: No. It's a green light!
ND: I'm not going to make it.
ISG: What are you talking about? There's nobody coming.*looks around* You're fine.
ND: Air!*chokes out*
ISG: Roll down your window. You're turning blue. You need to breathe. I'm stopping the car with this emergency break right here.*car screeches to a halt*
*ND collapses dead in a heep in chair. ISG flags over Mysterious Sexy Guy from traffic or woods or wherever*
ISG: I let this guy die because he wasn't man enough. I need a revolutionary. *really sell the sexy*
MSG: I could spin you like a record.
ISG: Good enough. Get rid of this carcass and give me a ride. Two miles down the road and pull over. I'm feeling so alive.
*Insinuate Sex- sex in this case is expressed by the act of disheveling themselves in plain sight for costume purposes- Third male voice announces the amount of time that passed. Characters quickly look and behave as if they'd been sexed up*
MSG: Where do we go now?
ISG: Back in the back seat? *black sheet thrown over to simulate alone time*