Broken Worlds


I look into her eyes and see the skies of a broken world. A world, torn and cracked, broken beyond repair. And suddenly I find myself there; I’m this broken world in her eyes.

“Hello.” A young girl’s voice surprises me. I look and see her, standing there. Inhabiting a broken world? Perhaps not so broken after all.

“I am your guide, in this world.” She continues. “Follow me.”

So I follow. We trek through wastelands and mountains and valleys. Mountains taller than Everest, and valleys deeper than Marianas. The girl, sure-footed, never breaks pace. I struggle to keep up. Finally, after what seems like days, we stop on solid ground.

“Where are we?” I wonder aloud. The girl looks me in the eye.

“We’re in the middle. The center of her world.”

I look and see smooth land for what seems like miles. It’s flourishing; it’s beautiful.

“How can something so broken have such a beautiful center?”

The girl shakes her head. “On the outside, things always look different than how they really are. A broken world is massive, yes, but then larger will its center be. Some centers are broken, do not doubt that. But oftentimes you find broken centers in the center of smooth worlds.”

“Why do they not match, center to outside and outside to center?”

“Broken people hide their cracks, for they are ashamed. They think no one can help them, and no one is the same. But those with centers smooth and fair? Similar to pearls, they are, shaped by sea and air.”

“So people are like oysters, then? Those with pearls go through hardship, and their outsides get torn up. But those without, they feel ashamed. They smooth their outsides and pretend and lie, corrupting their insides even more.”

“Truth has made you wiser, but never imagine you are the wisest. There is always someone wiser, and pride will corrupt your pearl. So when you see a broken world in someone’s lonely eyes, invite them in your life – for their outer shame is nothing compared to the treasure that’s inside.”

I nodded to the girl, who nodded to me back. I know I’ve learned a lot today. The girl then takes my hand. “Follow me – I’ll lead you back.”

And we head back to the exposed world, broken as it is. Her surefootedness extends to me, this second time back. Much sooner we arrive, at the entrance point. The girl looks into my eyes; no words need to be said.

And although I’m still looking into eyes, these now host a broken world. I realize I am out, and this girl is not my guide. So again, I look into her eyes. I still see the skies of a broken world. A world, torn and cracked, broken beyond repair. But now I can catch a glimpse of her heart, her center made of pearl. I smile, and she smiles back. I wonder, did she see my world?

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The Land of Infinite Squares


In the land of infinite squares, a small chasm opened. The chasm was square and flat, like all things in the land of infinite squares.

But what came through that square chasm would change the entirety of the land of infinite squares for eternity. It was…a cube.

From the land of infinite cubes, a small cube fell through a cubical chasm into a square one.

The land of infinite squares was no longer a two-dimensional land with an infinite number of squares.

Rather, it was a three-dimensional land with an infinite number of squares and a single cube.

The fact that the cube even existed changed the foundation of an entire land; of an entire universe.

Now think of what a living, breathing, three-dimensional, sentient human being could do. What you could do…by simply existing.

And remember this: infinity is meaningless when there is nothing but infinity.

Only when the single cube entered the land of infinite squares did infinity become a meaningful number.

Everything exists to be compared.

infinite_squares

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Perfection


So, I wrote this last night. In bed. Half-asleep. On a piece of paper. Hope you like it.

“People look for perfection in different places. When someone says “he’s perfect”  or “she’s perfect,” it means that they’re looking past the person’s imperfections and amplifying their perfect (or near-perfect) qualities. Everyone has a few perfect qualities, even though they are most often surrounded or even buried by those imperfections that make us human.

Also, people’s perception of perfection is nearly always different. Hair, clothes, personality, activities, eyes, and even hobbies can be “perfect” in one person’s opinion and terrible in another’s.”

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When Worlds Collide


When Worlds Collide


Everyone tells lies

Everyone keeps secrets

Some are big

Some are small

And as the lies build up

You create a network

A world of lies

What happens when you slip?

What happens when worlds collide?

When you tell a secret

When you reveal a lie

And the truth comes crashing down

The lies are picked

The secrets prodded

Until you’re sore and lonely

In your bed of lies

While the truth looks on in dismay

That’s what happens when worlds collide.

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#poemspiration


So this evening I had a flash of ‪#‎poemspiration‬*:

I heard you loud and clear
Your scream it pierced my ears
It pierced my heart
My heart broke
When I heard you scream in fear

I came running to your side
I ran towards your fearful cry
Your cry of fear
A single tear
And I told you you were mine

I said I’d never let you go
I said it never would be so
Never, never
Never would it be
I am yours forever, and you will always be my own.

– Ezekiel J Dean

Another one of those poems that sort of spring from that foreign part of my brain called the subconscious. I have no real idea what it means.

*”Poemspiration” is copyright property of Ezekiel Dean, Inc. and any infringement of this…erm…<note: add law jargon here>

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Four Years, Four Months, and Fifteen Days


So I had an idea to write about, but I totally forgot what it was. So I’m just going to talk about random stuff until — haha okay honestly I just remembered as soon as I wrote that. Not kidding 😀

There’s this story I’ve been letting tumble around in the deep recesses of my brain. It doesn’t have a title, but the plot is basically…well…sort of developed. I guess it’s the backstory that’s really been set in stone. At the moment it has tentatively been put in a journal/diary format, but that could change later. Anyways, here’s the story.

The main character is Jack Hayden (not really, I just made that up on the spot because I have no idea what to name him yet). The plot is a science fiction time travel story. It also has to do with the apocalypse. Jack is seventeen years old when a sudden world war is thrust upon the world as terrorists bomb the United States’ highest populated cities. Seattle is one of these cities, and Jack just so happens to be visiting the city with his mom, sister, and best friend. They live in a small town about an hour away. The whole city just descends into chaos, and Jack’s mother dies after debris crushes her (sorry, it’s actually really emotional in the story but I’m just trying to give a plot rundown at the moment :/ ). Jack’s friend is separated from them by the same debris, and Jack never sees him again.

Him and his sister, Kaitlyn (who is two years younger than him), escape and survive the bombing. Afterwards, they leave the city and try to get home. Jack can drive, so they steal a car and attempt to get home. But when they do, they find more destruction and chaos. The town has already fallen into anarchy. They visit their house and try to get stuff and this part of the story hasn’t really been written in my mind yet so…yeah. Jack and Kaitlyn leave and become wanderers, like a lot of other survivors.

After about five months of wandering in the wasteland once known as the United States of America, Kaitlyn is killed by a four-man post-apocalyptic street gang while Jack isn’t with her. He hears her scream and arrives just as she’s murdered. Jack goes crazy and kills two of the gang members, while the other two barely escape. He burns his sister’s body and collects the ashes, planning to return to Seattle and spread them in the Puget Sound. Which he does.

Over a year later, in Seattle, Jack hears on the radio that the last known government in Europe (Turkey) has collapsed. The entire world is under anarchy. The next three years pass like a dream for Jack, who has been alone for too long. He won’t join any gangs, sticking to himself and scavenging every city and town he comes across. About seven months after his 20th birthday, Jack wakes up.

And by wakes up, I mean he wakes up four years, four months, and fifteen days in the past. In his sixteen-year-old body. This is really where the story starts, in a journal format that Jack begins writing about a week or so after waking up in the past. His mom, sister, and best friend are all alive and well. The apocalypse that Jack lived through is coming again, but this time he knows. He knows the date, he knows how to survive, and he knows he can’t lose anyone he loves again.

The date of the incoming apocalypse is April 27th, 2017, which is fourteen days after his 17th birthday. The date he woke up was July 2nd, 2016. He has less than a year (10 months) to stop the apocalypse. But how does a twenty-year-old man in a sixteen-year-old body convince anyone of actual importance that in less than a year the entire world will be thrown into chaos? Jack’s answer: He has no idea. So him and his best friend begin following politics. His friend is already a political geek, which helps, but Jack has to convince him that the apocalypse really is coming. They start following the news and drawing up ways that the apocalypse could happen, and who the bombers might have been (or will be? 😉 ). Jack struggles to remember anything he ever heard after April 27th on the radio, in order to get some inside information on who started the war and other such things of importance.

Do you want to hear the end? If not, you should just skip the next part inside these lines.


Jack is unable to find a way to completely prevent the apocalypse. Instead, he also prepares food and water and shelter, as well as a plan for creating a new government. The story (journal) ends with Jack watching the bombing from afar, sitting on a mountaintop near his hometown where he established a the bunker and stored supplies. He writes that although he doesn’t know how he traveled back in time, he hopes that everything he did will save not only his family but also the world.


And that’s about it. Oh right, I named the title of this post as one of my tentative titles for the book, which is “Four Years, Four Months, and Fifteen Days.” That is the exact amount of time that Jack travels back in time. I thought it was interesting. Maybe it’s too long, I don’t know.

If you have any ideas for the title or even a new plot point, please let me know in the comments! Even if you just think my idea is bad (or incredibly great) let me know.

Have a fantastic day…afternoon!

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Do You See What I See?


Hey! Want some more poetry? Why not, right? I hope you guys liked those last ones, cause here we go…(this one is a LOT longer space-wise)…


I see

I see

I see what you see

Can you see what I see

Can you describe it for me

Cause

I see

I see

I think I can see

I’m not blind

You see

I see a big tree

Do you

Do you

Do you see the tree

The tree that’s so large

And so much bigger than me

It’s there

Right there

That big massive tree

That big massive tree

That stands before me

Are you blind

Blind

Or can you see the tree

Can you see it

Or are you blind

As blind as can be

Cause

I see

I see

I see the big tree

I see

I see

I see what you see

But now

I look

I look

I look at the tree

I look

I look

I look at what I see

Do you look

Or just see

Do you look at the tree

I saw the tree

And now look at tree

I see every nook

Every nook in the tree

The leaves are all golden

And falling one by one

Down to the ground

As they catch the sun

Just seeing

Not looking

Can be a mistake

When there’s so much to see

There’s so much to take

Sight is a gift

And we take it for granted

We see much too often

But hardly ever look

We experience little

When we don’t stop to look

I look

I look

I look at the tree

Every leaf

Every branch

Every bug I can see

Do you see

Do you look

Do you look at the tree

Or do you just stare

And see pointlessly?

tree-trunk

Surprise tree picture! Seriously though, isn’t it amazing?!

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