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Tuba's Video Diary #1
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Silver Tears
January 1st, 1989
Hmm… 1988? Yes, it was the rain that encouraged recall; a certain ‘shimmer’ accompanied it. January was spent alone. The frigid winter gale had shattered the windows, and battered the doors, bringing with it the presence of an illusory; an imaginary mentor. He, Charles, told me of February, and the pleasures Capricornus would bring; and he wasn’t wrong. I was educated; my metaphorical ‘infant crawl’ had transformed into that of a galloping horse; I was somewhat wiser.
And so was I.
February the 17th, I met… Jane. I was strolling through the great forest when I stumbled into her. Beneath a snow-capped oak we were inexplicably entwined, lost in a passionate embrace. We held each other there, until silver tears stained our frosty cheeks. The lukewarm tears of joy christened the snow beneath our feet, birthing our ‘special place’. Rain began to fall from the clouds, and unlike typical tears, our silver tears shimmered in the veil of cascading droplets.
March, I was missing Jane. I couldn’t for the life of me recall where she’d gone. My soul sobbed, yearning for her. The summer that followed was immaculately bitter, I became a recluse; world-absent. Avoiding sunlight I roamed the streets after hours, my way lit by gloomy street lamps, cigarette lighters and moonlight. My destination remained unclear.
When autumn arrived, I was a pale shadow of my former self. Early September had been particularly cruel; my scatty bed-sit burned down in a blaze, and I was forced to find another gloom pit in which to hide my weary head. Harsh winds pummelled my door, in what I believed to be an attempt to finish me off.
November the 11th, I made my way back to the great forest, with only one, crystal clear intention. Navigating the boggy tracks and rain-soaked clearings I reached the oak. Tall and looming, it beckoned me unto its husky branches. And there she was, the lady of yesterday, Jane.
I penned a short verse regarding our experience -
Sad was she as she reached for my hand, sublime was her touch, and her smile.
This would be our second, and final embrace, the world had other plans for Jane & I.
The clouds in the sky said goodbye to their young, and rain fell like tears from above.
And as she turned to leave I heard her weeping and say, “Remember our tears in the rain...”
And with those words, she was gone. To this day I remain here, in my fortress of solitude. I’ll welcome change, if upon my door it chooses to knock…
[edit on 5/11/08 by thebox]
January 1st, 1989
Hmm… 1988? Yes, it was the rain that encouraged recall; a certain ‘shimmer’ accompanied it. January was spent alone. The frigid winter gale had shattered the windows, and battered the doors, bringing with it the presence of an illusory; an imaginary mentor. He, Charles, told me of February, and the pleasures Capricornus would bring; and he wasn’t wrong. I was educated; my metaphorical ‘infant crawl’ had transformed into that of a galloping horse; I was somewhat wiser.
And so was I.
February the 17th, I met… Jane. I was strolling through the great forest when I stumbled into her. Beneath a snow-capped oak we were inexplicably entwined, lost in a passionate embrace. We held each other there, until silver tears stained our frosty cheeks. The lukewarm tears of joy christened the snow beneath our feet, birthing our ‘special place’. Rain began to fall from the clouds, and unlike typical tears, our silver tears shimmered in the veil of cascading droplets.
March, I was missing Jane. I couldn’t for the life of me recall where she’d gone. My soul sobbed, yearning for her. The summer that followed was immaculately bitter, I became a recluse; world-absent. Avoiding sunlight I roamed the streets after hours, my way lit by gloomy street lamps, cigarette lighters and moonlight. My destination remained unclear.
When autumn arrived, I was a pale shadow of my former self. Early September had been particularly cruel; my scatty bed-sit burned down in a blaze, and I was forced to find another gloom pit in which to hide my weary head. Harsh winds pummelled my door, in what I believed to be an attempt to finish me off.
November the 11th, I made my way back to the great forest, with only one, crystal clear intention. Navigating the boggy tracks and rain-soaked clearings I reached the oak. Tall and looming, it beckoned me unto its husky branches. And there she was, the lady of yesterday, Jane.
I penned a short verse regarding our experience -
Sad was she as she reached for my hand, sublime was her touch, and her smile.
This would be our second, and final embrace, the world had other plans for Jane & I.
The clouds in the sky said goodbye to their young, and rain fell like tears from above.
And as she turned to leave I heard her weeping and say, “Remember our tears in the rain...”
And with those words, she was gone. To this day I remain here, in my fortress of solitude. I’ll welcome change, if upon my door it chooses to knock…
[edit on 5/11/08 by thebox]
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