Mythical

Have you heard of the mythical beast known as the phoenix? A bird made of ethereal fire born of great only meant to rise again after death. That sounds quite familiar to another mythical creature I know all too well. Do you know the answer to this question? If not, then let me enlighten you. Humans function in the same manner.

From my experience as an infant, those times of my life are one & so few. The memories are there scattered along the years until I reach the years of being a child. The picture becomes clearer and plays in my mind like a drive through movie on the big screen. Looking back now, it feels like a different lifetime, but who’s to say it wasn’t?

A new world culminated right before my eyes, and I had no choice but to face it head on. These times were still joyous as if the rapture were upon and the world knew a modicum of peace…until that unfaithful day. Our young eyes bore witness to real-time horror and destruction. Our lives went from a wistful dream and were dropped into the earth like our dying aunt and were left with the coldness of reality. Our innocence came crashing down along with the two pillars into a new era.

Soon after, as we tried to cope with the reality of our new world, the ones who came before had us play inside as a distraction to what was truly going on outside. We weren’t entirely ignorant to the world for we had an idea of what lurked in the shadows, but our protectors hushed any notion and soothed our souls. We were told “Everything will be ok. The bad people will be gone soon.” As they told us, they became correct. The bad people were gone and laid buried with our wistful dreams and our innocence.

Of course, none of that sets in until we once again rise from our trenches and witness a new battlefield known as adolescence. All those repressed emotions that we once locked in our music boxes roared out in a torrent of dark flames and engulfed us. Everyday felt like it could very well be the last due to our overwhelming emotions that we once laid to bed because everything was ok, but there were bad people all around. My parents said the bad people were gone, but why is it that people continue to die every day and it’s not from other of another country but our own people, living within our communities.

The theater has also seen some changes over the years. The pictures painted in this era are so vivid I can still feel the prick of every emotion I felt in those moments as they play like a sad romcom on a Friday night. Old wounds begin to feel fresh as we travel down the Boulevard of Broken Dreams and to see her face, oh, How You Remind Me of the times when I was Romeo within my own tale. You were my Juliet, two star crossed lovers who never should have crossed paths and yet it felt like it was fate that brought us together.

Yet again, I rise from the shards of glass or at least what remained of me. It almost seems as if I’ve awoken in a prison of sorts. There are no cells yet, we all have numbers to identify ourselves wherever we go. It definitely isn’t advertised as one, but I can feel it in my soul that something is amiss. I’m also very familiar with a new companion as well, there is name is death.

Death is a man of few words, but we have had discussions before about the cycle of death and what it truly means. “Death to many is seen as the end, but some know that something cannot be extinguished entirely. A seed will be left in the remains and over time it will grow into a tree. How that grows entirely on the seed.” Death also told me when I was a child on that unforgettable day, he said he was here to do two jobs. Everyone knows Death to come collect souls, but on that particular day he had another task. His other task was to mar the next generation with a glimpse of what the world truly is like and that this is the reality of the world.

As I watch the movie now, everything is clear to me know as if I’m watching in the clearest of lakes in a garden filled with flowers and animals galore. I was once a child of light consumed by the emotions I hid in the darkest recesses of my music box and in turn they became a mortal enemy of mine. Thus, breaking the crystal heart, I once held and breaking it so that I may reveal what is truly inside. Today I sit here as a man who died and came back many a time. If I were to make a case, I would say we humans are mythical ourselves.