My impressive imagination


As we continued to follow each other in step, within the margins of
two steel rails permanently fastened to their mighty timber crossties,
a thought entered my mind. What if I were to band together some of
the very best tree carvers and create an arborglyph in the greenbelt?
Nothing profane as to exact wrath from the people, but rather,
exquisite works of art chiseled into each tree! It didn't
take long for me to get distracted and lose interest.

Here in this wooded trench, we could see the lighted streets up over
the gully that had been carved, deep into the earth where the mechanical monsters roll. All around us were the tree demons. None of which had more prominent features or were as greatly admired in this realm than the staghorn sumac. They were the ones who seemed to know the most about what was going on here. They were also the most clever and appeared
to be the sharpest. Like some odd kind of pet, they stood watching and scrutinizing us with intrinsic faces, shrouded by an ever keen sense of logic. Of course, you had to be in the land of the shadow dwellers to
see them! Yet, something was missing in the mass confusion which
had abounded in the plains of reason. I walked into a field of ill regard, when soon it began to dawn on me. There's just too many of them
out there panning.

I was accoladed in a forest of wonder
I became a knight who graced the earth
I was revered by all I had imagined
I made peace with a world I long hated

After the coronation, I began to think of my parents and their constant nagging. All I ever heard upon moving here was "hurry up, let's go. I want you in the house early tonight! You're going to be late for school!" All of
a sudden, it was like, she had come out of a coma and for the next seven years, she and her new husband would make it their business to torture me, day in and day out. It was almost like they had found out about the affair. Parents only hear what they wish to hear, or they rebuke you. If it
is not pleasing to their ears it is not permissible, and they dispel you as a fool. Make no mistake, we are all fools on occasion indeed but even fools need respect and honor if they wish to succeed and not continue being fools. So we look up to our peers, and they admire us for our foolishness. Hence, you are no longer a fool but impressive!

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We were now on the tracks and saw the lights of Huguenot looming,
in the distance. Upon hearing a strange noise, John immediately stopped. Listen Charles, he said apprehensively! His eyes denoting a connotation of fear. Like a Roman soldier, I stood at attention and surveyed the area for any sign of disturbance. That look of death he bore signaled impending misfortune, and so, my armor was my shield! A most aggressive noise could be heard coming from the left side of the tracks up ahead near an enclave of slippery elm trees. It was not an ordinary sound but rather, a very distinct sound. What were they chopping, I thought? People? Trees? Were they lumberjacks? Kids? I then waited patiently for another aural response, which confirmed my earliest belief. *Duly noted*

Aside from the odd chopping noise, there was now also growling.
Could it be a pack of wild dogs? If that be the case, we are all in
some very serious trouble, but that would hardly explain the chopping. People were there! Bad people doing very bad things. I then heard
what sounded like an axe to a skull behind a muffled cry. My mind was running circles around me, and I could come to no immediate conclusion. My first impulse was to start running, but I knew the animal would take
to me like a jaguar to a tired gazelle come evening, and so we went
with John's idea, which was, in fact, plan two.

Since we were overcome by fear, we had no choice but to take a detour through the densely populated woods. Pete was ahead of us again as
usual and in no-speaking mode. "Look at Pete" said John, aghast and out of breath. What about him? I asked. "Look at how far ahead of us, he is! He doesn't care about us. He's not our friend." Only your mother and father, I said, not wanting to talk. I know right, he exclaimed in awe,
as if he had just grasped something he never before knew. "I should be honoring my parents like Chen next door, Instead, I treat my parents like crap. My mother says this and I immediately go and do something else! Why am I like this Charlie? What's wrong with me?" I thought about the questions and realized that instead of facilitating life's woes, the drug had, in fact, turned everything around to make everything worse than it was before we even started. I had no answer. So now rather than speak, I could say nothing at all. It is so true. A good parent only wants what is best for his or her child, but because of our foolish pride, we become insensitive. Now, in the hour of our discontent, we could truly see the error of our ways. I was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense feeling
of sorrow, for I finally understood where my parents were coming from.
In that moment of complete and utter awareness, I was beside myself,
as I knew wholeheartedly what they were trying so hard to do for me.

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Sure they could put you down and hurt your pride, I said. Or lash out
and strike you! A deep wound!!! They didn't yell at us and make us
go to school because they wanted us to suffer, or because it made
them feel any better. They did it because we're part of them. We are
part of their flesh, and they want us to do better than they did! Even if
we don't want any part of it. I then thought of them wanting to send me away to college, and how I rebuked it. Now I was depressed over that.

Only now, was I finally able to put into place, the whole missing link
to the puzzle, and it's not that I hadn't seen it before, it was simply
because pride had fallen from me, and I wanted to be loved by God.
I then said, God loves us, and we're doing everything in our power
to turn him off. John then offered solace to stand in prayer. It was a
totally unfeigned prayer, straight from the heart. We prayed together
but wept alone, and in my quest to find peace, I found myself. I then
looked up toward the stars, where God shined his love down upon me
in the reverent face of the moon.

We then continued our journey onward. Pete traipsed in a desultory manner as he led us through a dark trail. Veering to the left,
we came out on the tracks again.

Preparing to relieve myself, I found the phragmites at this part of the
tracks to be swaying oddly. They were blowing back slightly yet they
were unchanged! There was no return to the normal position!!! They
were falling, yet they hadn't moved at all. They were perfectly still,
and yet they were totally moving! I was completely mesmerized by
this action, while my mind could not fathom how this process worked.
It was as though my brain had received the data, but somewhere along
the way a percentage of it was being lost. The one percent that could
solve the equation. Or, was it that one percent which was controlling
that data. This I could not figure out either!

As I unzipped my fly and removed my flaccid organ from my zipper,
I noticed it was the only thing that appeared to be functioning normally. After relieving myself, I then returned it to the left side of my pants.
From here I proceeded to the tracks and began walking. I had to catch
up to those buggers who had left me behind at my own request.

I wasn't afraid of the darkness for the darkness was now my friend,
and it wasn't too long after I caught up to them that we approached
the Huguenot train station. We decided that we should pay Richie boy
a visit, and so we climbed up a small thin ladder which would guide us onto the station's platform. It was from there, where we ascended the concrete and steel lined staircase, which led us out into the street.

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