Enamored With Architecture

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Today was an especially amazing day. So much so that I am going to post doubly to include my writing experiment and my thoughts! [and conveniently catch up on my posting schedule, muahahahaha...]
Below is my writing experiment for today, and above is a picture of an awesome building in Seattle. I am enamored with architecture these days apparently.

Can we fly away tonight?
Stare at the moon and the sun so bright,
That we catch glimpses of our faces in the strangest of places,
And believe that the mewl of the tomcat holds all of his might.

Believe me when I tell you that there was something wrong there. Please?
When I stepped into the room, there was no sound. There were no cries, no delighted hurrahs, no whole-hearted snickers or sneers – it was silent. And, also… there was no breathing.
I sucked all the air into my lungs without really thinking about it. I could hear it whistle through my head, past my sinuses, up, in and then down to my chest. I felt the air expand there – every breath was a blessing. There was something wrong there.
I didn’t take a seat, rather, a seat took me. I was tossed backwards without quite seeing my assailant. Their fish lips and wide eyes all looked so dead that I prefer to think none of them touched me. But then I wonder… what did? If it was the force of God, I don’t think I would mind. But if it were something else… well, there’s nothing I can do about it now.
The seat was hard and deep; it sucked me into an uncomfortable position that I could not escape. There were no wrist cuffs, but I felt as if I had to keep my hands level with the desk – for fear of punishment. It was just like high school. Only quieter. Everyone was staring straight ahead at the white-washed wall. I tried to turn around and see who was with me, but they all looked the same: paralyzed. I wish I could have gotten up, but there was absolutely no way.
Trust me, please trust me, when I say there was something wrong with that place.
I waited for the better part of an hour, I think, though it could have been five minutes. No one was coming. The walls began to pulsate as I stared at them, beating in and out in a firm rhythm. It matched my heart beat. Bu-bump, bu-bump.
I wasn’t scared exactly, but everything around me was… magnified. I thought I could see every freckle and hair on every arm, leg or face that was in front of me. I lost the courage to look behind. Bu-bump.
When my breathing started to disappear, that was when I knew something was seriously wrong. I was so keen on keeping my heart in my chest that I had forgotten to listen for that welcoming rush of air as it passed through my nasal cavities and into my lungs. All I could hear was bu-bump, bu-bump like the tone of an invisible war drum. I panicked and tried to gasp. I wish my lips had opened at that point.
I’m not kidding, there is seriously something wrong there! Please, please believe me…
If you don’t believe me, I think that I won’t be able to go on living. Right here and now, I will step off this balcony and fall into the empty street. I will smash my skull open and it will all be on your conscience. Do you want that? I’m sure you don’t.
I wish I could say that I fully got out of that place. But, really, it’s still there. In the back of my mind, it is floating around like a sea of jellyfish – every person in that room truly was dead. I can’t explain to you how I knew, but they just… they just…
They couldn’t feel.
When I got up to leave, yes, I got up and walked towards the door. It was perhaps the hardest thing I had to do in my life. The weight on my legs tore at my pant legs and I felt them sticking down like some sort of magnetic pull. But I concentrated. My heart beat quickened from bu-bump, bu-bump to bump-bump-bump-bump-bump-bump. I struggled and struggled to breathe. But I got up. And marched to the door.
I avoided all hands along the way. They were inconsiderate, and unhealthy. They were sprawled out over desks in an oddly symmetrical pattern – as if they were trying to say something to me. When I touched the door handle though, the room changed.
Every pair of eyes shifted to look at me. I felt the gaze of thirty, fifty, one hundred students sitting at their prim wooden desks, eyeing me. I saw them all shift slightly, hungry, their bloated expressions even larger when they were pressed in tandem to the shape of my palm. They looked at me, but what they saw was opportunity.
I left then. I couldn’t take it. I fled through the door and tried to run down the hallway, tripped, and fell. I remember seeing you walking past; I almost called out but I could barely move. I hoisted myself up and came here instead.
Believe me, please. There is something wrong there. We really have to do something about it. I don’t know what but—
You can’t be serious. We can’t just tell them about it. They probably know what’s going on! What are you saying? They want those people to die! They’re already dying! I—
No… it can’t be. You’re one of them, aren’t you?
You’re clever, you know that? Tricking me into thinking… well, no more of that. Don’t tell me again. I’ll make good on my claim. I promised you that I’d walk off this rooftop and fall right here. And I’ll do it.

Check out some more posts featuring my photography.
More writing and stories are also available for your reading pleasure.