Blue Dream
Stories (4/0)
A Summer Excerpt
Times were changing. I knew this much. Home had turned into an empty word. It was blurry, up in the air, floating, taunting me as its palpability slipped through my fingers. Although, now that I thought about it, home wasn’t a thing that had ever stuck. It was a term I had given my primary residence, as I felt it was the normal thing to do, and everyone around me seemed to be content with the idea, so it seemed fitting to follow suit, but the truth was I hated it. I was fried, and some of it was my own doing, as I so willingly sprinted through what my “guidance” councelors referred to as “the gateway”, but mostly I blamed the pseudo intellectuals for sucking me dry all those years. I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. I used to have hobbies, ambitions even. I used to be so passionate that it would consume me and I used to daydream about the day I’d move to New York City and live a life of my own. I used to be what they’d call “driven” and with a “bright future”, but with each passing year everyone seemed to care less and less about what it was that I wanted or what I thought or what I needed.
By Blue Dream6 years ago in Humans
Growth
I started off small. A see-through, fragile, self equipt machine awaiting my command. I was alone in the dark, and my surrounding was moist, but it was also soft, so I felt secure. Two, four, six, eight seconds passed and I began to shake. My sides began to stretch out; slowly and delicately like a piece of gum. My insides hardened while my exterior collapsed and it was then and there that I accepted my fate. As I relaxed, my whole being vibrated with energy. With each inhale my body would let out a pop that signaled a new beginning. The pops now occurred faster and faster. I was growing. No, I was multiplying. Yes, that seems to describe it better. I was multiplying now at full speed and my being was on fire.
By Blue Dream6 years ago in Futurism
Hey, Love
It is early January and the rain has passed. The air is crisp and faintly moist, giving my cheeks a slight flush. I stand outside my house waiting patiently, but nervously. I had not seen my best friend since summer. I missed his child-like spirit and joyful mannerisms. I missed his smile and curious exuberance. Finally, he was home and he could not have arrived at a better time. My life seemed to be falling apart and I craved that unchanging optimism he carried. For some time, he had been my inspiration. He lived life in the moment and cherished every second as if it was his last. He could care less about what tomorrow had to bring; all that mattered to him was the present and the embracement of opportunity. I, for one, did not carry the same optimism. I teetered on the edge of pessimism and cynicism and held onto resentment like no other. I was either stuck in the past or panicking about the future. “Typical cancer,” he would always tell me sarcastically. As I waited for him to pick me up, I thought over our past and wondered what I meant to him. There was an unmistakable attraction, anyone who saw us together could feel it, but nothing was ever acted upon. Maybe I needed him as a friend and so did he. Maybe we were too polite to overstep boundaries.
By Blue Dream6 years ago in Humans