Allow me to vaporize

De la nada sale el todo, y el todo se hace nada.

I believe souls don’t understand death the way bodies do. Souls don’t understand pain like bodies do either. Probably a sharp object penetrating the flesh feels like a twitch in the eye to the soul. Pain needs to pierce deeper than the flesh to leave an imprint on the soul. Way deeper into a vortex which is maybe located somewhere behind that rib cage. I don’t think it has anything to do with flesh, or muscle or veins. Not even blood. The soul goes deeper than those… somewhere in between the molecules. I believe the soul is ether and death goes beyond matter for it to feel its presence or lack of it. 

I believe the body dies once while the soul dies a million times over and over again in every life. I might be terribly wrong here. Maybe the soul dies a lot more than a million times in each life, but I’m sure it does. It’s definitely not inconsolable because it is etheric and one cannot expect ether to be heavy with sorrow or suffering or any similar dense substitute. It’s waiting for the body to release it back to where it came from till it gets portioned into numerous other bodies. No wonder so much in each of us is similar and yet so much is different. Probably you and I have been caged in a common body before… before we parted and became others. Maybe a part of me is trapped in these words that you are reading while the other one-sixteenth is reading it on her iPhone in some vague location and wondering if she should go get some lunch. We are not so different - you and I. 

I want to believe that the ether that I send out into the universe (once this body disintegrates) will carry with it the imprints of all the deaths that this body put it through; and parts of which will become a fragment of another body with a fraction of deaths from someone else. Probably we are all a culmination of deaths and imprints that added more spirit to it all. We are all fractions yet whole. Maybe that’s the reason behind emotions. The countless sentiments, intuitions and the overwhelming sense of fear or happiness are just those chemical reactions when the ether is exposed to a reparation or compensating fraction… wanting to be whole or to balance itself out. I want to believe that the only thing stopping it is the body which effervesces with these reactions because it needs to live and not disintegrate. The body needs the ether and cannot let it go.

The body is just the cage.

(Inspired by Haruki Murakami’s New York Mining Disaster - Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman)

Low-point Sally

She’s not a guardian angel

to shield what she takes over.

Deem she’s an apparition

A task and Halo ‘pon her.

From the corner of yer eye

You’ll find her crouching silver

Nights you’re low n’ hurting

She feeds on it for supper.

Sally drinks your tears

meets over nightmares

watches the tossing n’ turning

In fear she lurks and ensnares.

Breezes through bouts of insomnia

keeps low but you can hear

when she gushes past on nimble toes

a cold breath when she’s near.

Sh’was there when you slept calm

When you woke up with no qualm

Follows you under the sun

Sniggered when you sang the psalm

Waits for you to fall

In good times when you stand tall

Looks out for gashes

You’ll sense pain when she’s around.

She’s the low-point Sally

Hate her and she breeds on it

Stays around till it hits again

Sears your soul bit by bit.

You’ll never escape her

She dwells in your shadow

When the sun sets again

In darkness she will wallow.
Time strengthens her grip
feels like a meth trip
every gasp, every scream
She's hungry. She will swallow.