lantern soul chapter 2

 

2

 

She has had the dream again (though that implies it is the same every time), but it is still the dream again, even with the details dance in a constate state of flux.

 

The city outside her window framed with those lights off in the evening sky. The joy she sees in the morning makes her anxious. Thinking she will give away that she is from somewhere else. Yes, she is something else in this world other than a teenage boy trying to find his way in this world. She will remember it in the morning. She will remember this dream knowing that it is indeed a memory as unreal as this world feels.

 

The city is off away from any semblance of importance off where it will remain nameless for the sake of creating the illusion that this is not a thinly veiled autobiography (as is usual). But she is in her dream is a he, and he is waking up. The Barbarians are at the gates. They evacuated congress. Somehow the populace will delude themselves into believing that this is a peaceful protest. But what it is, is a wake-up call and rallying cry for half the country. The world will wake up in war, a cold one that turns to domestic terrorism from the inherent ignorance of the populace—the second civil war, where people forget that we all share this road.

 

January 6, 2021. Windows are smashing, flags flown with the name of the loser of the world. the "save America march." The foot-stomping ignorance is forcing its way forward. The train wreck was lost in the logical details.

 

In contrast, Thomas is checking his social media. Afraid to post anything. Being @ mentioned with comments like, well, I am all for this peaceful protest.

 

At nineteen, his hair is receding. Skinny now, but his skin hangs loose on his bones from the obesity he spared himself from through fasting and running a mile a day. Teeth yellow, he is a virgin though he thinks he is asexual on a practical level. And he is finding any attempt to express the nuances of his feeling as something he will save for therapy. Though in its way, it seems to complicate more than edify.

 

"God, I wish I had therapy today," he thinks while watching the news.

 

"so does half the country." thinks the author looking at the text.

 

But no, the slow march. The descent into a depression reserved for funerals of loved ones. This is watching the assassination of the American dream. The one that Dr. Gonzo saw out in the las vegas desert. That generation bred like swine and instilled the worst ignorance in the hearts and minds of the new world order.

 

Thomas is thinking about that cop who told the black guy you would be dead twenty years ago, all because he refused to show his id (more research is needed for this claim). Thomas is watching the televised rape of liberty when a joke pops into his head.

 

"it's a tragedy some of these assholes are not selling loose cigarettes, or there would be hell to pay."

 

The joke makes him feel sick. He doesn't want to laugh. He can't. It hurts too much. The potential for peace in his lifetime was snuffed out in broad daylight; he feels like a red tracing laser is pointed at him that his life is in the crosshairs. And now it's all over. He was left with nothing but the laughter of fools and the tears of the clown.