The Echo Complex

THE

Exists that time you want to write your feelings out onto a piece of paper, but you can't find the words to do it. The music is ringing in your ears and even though you want to shut out the noise, you can't. It's not that you can't do it, but more of that fact that you don't want to. This music brings you peace somehow, and for some reason, you let it haunt you.

Cherry blossoms outside dangling off from the frame of the tree don't look like they're supposed to. Everyone looks at them the same they always do, praising the tree for what it's supposed to look like. But you notice the other details about the bark. It's discolored here and there, and scratches make themselves visible along with other indents. You can't decide if the imperfection is beautiful or if society is messed up or not, so you agree with everyone else that it's beautiful by the supposed standards and not of your own accord.

Hey, it's those small things that tick and bother like little fruit flies created from rotting fruit. You always manage to destroy the insects even though they don't do anything harmful to you. But the more you gaze upon the flies, the more you realize how bizarre and horrid it's all become. Their manifestation came from that fruit you did not eat in time; your little bothersome ticks are a reminder of your failure, of what you did not achieve.

Or it's those pleasant looking couples you see walking hand in hand, those eye nerving couples you see embrace that make you ask about yourself. You know how people always tell you that if you wait long enough, your significant other will come? You know you will wait. But how long? Days, years, decades.... You will never know until you wait. But who's to know that this is your fate or not? What if you weren't meant to be one of them?

[Echo, Echo, Echo...]

Could it be that society wants to bind you, wrap you up in their wool blankets made from the skin of dead animals that they both promote and disenfranchise in cartoons and ethics? In this hypocrisy, what will you choose? Which side will you stand on?

Or could what they are doing be truly of a help to you? Who is to say what is right or wrong? Who is the overall judge in this court that we all stand trial in?

More so, as you stand at the podium, hand sweaty, clutching the microphone, what can you do?

Please, you want to say to your audience, please put me in a better world where the judgmental can stand trial and the judged in the jury. Or no, actually...

Let us all go back to the olden archaic days of simple cherry blossoms and ripening fruit. Back to the days where humans and trees once used to be friends. Back when we all could live in peace with the land and watch Mother Nature furnish and nurture her garden as she pleased....

Elephants and clovers in the sun, river allowing man to sit upon its back.

'Xcuse those that wonder where all the peace fled to. Its footprints leave nothing but a dissonant ring as the elephants follow its ringleader back to paradise. . .



[Echo, Echo, Echo]


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2015.
Echo Complex. Why is it called this ?  Can you find it?

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