Wednesday, October 5, 2011
You're not ready, he says, to travel through time. You're not going to understand the things you see in the past. You're not going to understand what the people you loved were saying. You're too young to understand what it means for them to be young. But you stole the machine and now you're there. And now you're seen what others lived though, and now you're only going to go back further, because you still don't have all the answers. And the deeper you get the worse off you'll be. It's called a syndrome for a reason. It's something that infects you. That takes you over, and causes you to loose even more than you already have. Why'd you steal the machine? Why did you want to see a weaker version of the man you love? What possible joy could you find in seeing a boy kicked in the stomach lashing out against the ether? Does this surprise you? Seeing him sick? Seeing him beating his head against the keys with the likes of Cash, Coltrane and Waits whispering in his ear. How could you care about this? No, you do, care, almost too much. Cause you seen the strange and it doesn't sicken you. You've traveled this far cause you do care. You wanted to see something that might make more sense. You knew he'd traveld to find you, so why shouldn't you? So, he says looking at her feet, you've here. What do you want to see? You're here, and this is just the middle. How far back can your empathy take you? You might as well have a guild. And who better to guild you than the man who will eventually break your heart. At least this way you'll understand why.