Isaac

This is an old story I wrote awhile back, was supposed to be part of something bigger but I never got around to it. Do I like it, probably not, but it was sitting on my hard drive not doing anything, so I guess you can try to enjoy it. All song lyrics are not my own and are copyrighted materials of the artists, writers and record labels.


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Everyone's afraid of their own lives
If you could be anything you want
I bet you'd be disappointed, am I right?
Am I right? And it's our lives
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
We're alive for the first time
It's hard to remember were alive for the last time
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
To live before you die
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
That our lives are such a short time
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
When it takes such a long time
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember

…

Blinding White

…
January 26th, 1994

Anonymity, he was thinking, seemed to be one of the single most depressing concepts of humanity, to be utterly unknown, forgotten, overlooked. Isaac sat in the corner, pondering, set into thought by the disappointing seating arrangement. From birth, he considered, we are told to be something, to be known, to be seen, to be admired, watched, looked up to, listened to, heralded about from mountain tops, and to achieve anything less is failure. Anonymity would be, in the eyes of the culture, society, world that we live in, any human’s greatest failure, to be unknown, in the shadows, would be failure.
And yet, he reasoned, we are told that the greatest and most important things in life, things like love, sadness, happiness, grief, humility, friendship, moments that last a lifetime and all the other finer points of life, all happen behind the scene, hidden from the public eyes. We are told that it happens away from the cameras, and the press, and those who herald it from mountain tops, that life is meant only for those who are sharing in it together.
But Isaac had lived most of his life in the back, in the shadows, behind the scene, and real life had never happened to him, it all passed by, others would experience life, nothing for him. He sat there brooding, imagining that his life was set in stone never to achieve anything, to stay in the shadows and see if life comes to him.
His now concluded frame of thought ended and he raised his head just in time to watch the curtains open and see the movie begin. Just one more thing, he thought, that he had been in the background to create, and no matter how much of himself he put into his work, he would forever remain in anonymity, his name, he reminded himself, would still only appear forty three seconds into the credit roll. He smiled, thinking how ironic it was that the only place you see life happening in the background, behind the scenes, is in film, for everyone to see.

…

What a beautiful face I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun,
What a beautiful dream that could flash
on the screen in a blink of an eye
and be gone from me soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me.

And one day we will die and our ashes will
fly from the aeroplane over the sea,
But for now we are young let us lay in the sun,
And count every beautiful thing we can see,
Love to be in the arms of all I’m keeping here with me.

…

Blinding White

…
October 6th, 1997

The sun was slowly rising over the buildings, sitting in the café Isaac had a limited view, but he could appreciate it nonetheless. He smiled, he loved the sunrise, in it he saw the renewal of the Earth, the world and it’s people, each morning a new beginning. The concept energized him, made him smile, and reminded him that their always is hope, since tomorrow is just another morning, another beginning.
He continued to gaze into the rising sun, out of the corner of his eye he caught a reflection in the glass. She was perfect. She was cute, black hair, his age, but more importantly it was her eyes, what he saw in them. What he saw was what he truly had been looking for all his life, someone who understood him, he knew that the first words out of her mouth would win him over, forever. She smiled.
He continued his gaze at that majestic rising sun. she stood up, picked up her cup and walked towards him. His heart swelled. She sat down across from him. She looked up and said, “Hello stranger”, and with those words he was hers. Everything about her became perfect, true love can happen.
She sipped at her cup of tea and gave him a smile, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, forget the sun, he thought, her smile, the one she saves for me, renews the Earth, humanity, everything, every time she smiles that smile, the one only I can see, there is hope, hope for everyone and everything. They just sat there, looking at each other, knowing, their gazes would be broken every so often by one of the smiling and then giggling, but neither of them spoke. The words “I love you”, broke the silence, he had uttered them, she knew it was true, she felt the same, she smiled, leaned over and kissed him. They never did look back.
Isaac was thinking about something that had once discouraged him, the concept of anonymity, being in the background unknown. He was thinking that maybe life can happen in the background, maybe the stuff we see publicly is just a sort of façade, a silhouette, a shadow of what real life is. He realized now that he had spent his life looking for life in the spotlight, but here he was in the background, anonymous, unknown, living what life was supposed to be.

…

lightning crashes, a new mother cries
her placenta falls to the floor
the angel opens her eyes
the confusion sets in
before the doctor can even close the door

lightning crashes, an old mother dies
her intentions fall to the floor
the angel closes her eyes
the confusion that was hers
belongs now, to the baby down the hall

…

Blinding White

…

April 12th, 1969

Isaac, lay in his crib, barely a week old, his father looking over him, his father’s eyes glazed over, tears swelling in those eyes, tears of joy, pride, love. He loved his son, imagined him as anything, an astronaut, a scientist, a writer, an actor, anything, he imagined his child making him proud, he tried to foresee the future.
Years later both Isaac and his father would wonder how those eyes stopped giving tears of joy and pride and began giving empty stares and scornful looks, wondering when that innocent baby became the man that Isaac would be. But at that very moment, none of this had happened, all that their was, was a father mapping out his son’s life in his head, imagining everything his son could do, he was happy.
It was at this moment that Isaac’s father, who was by no account a wise man, gave Isaac the speech that would shape his life, the speech that would motivate every thought and subsequent action. Of course Isaac could not understand any of this speech, he was much to young, but his subconscious would always remember this speech, it would guide him.
“Son, I know you can’t understand what I’m saying. Maybe you can, but that’s beside the point. My father never cared about me, he was never there for me. I don’t want to be that, I don’t know how to be a better father, but I’ll try. I love your mother, I love your sister, and I love you. I never want you to forget that, ever.
“I know it’s crazy for me to be saying these things to you, I know you’re a baby and I’m basically talking to a wall, but I want these words to stick with you, somehow, I don’t know how, but somehow. Son, I want you to know that I believe that you could be anything, do anything, be anyone. I know that you’ll make me proud, and I know that I will be there for you.
“I love you. Make me proud, become something, I know you will.”
That was it, those were the words, they would guide his life. God the repercussions from a simple wish. His father was quietly leaving the room, looking at his son, a smile on his mouth, a tear on his eye. Isaac lay there sleeping, he twitched, winced, turned over, and continued to sleep.

…

I hit the city and
I lost my band
I watched the needle
take another man
Gone, gone, the damage done.

I sing the song
because I love the man
I know that some
of you don't understand
Milk-blood
to keep from running out.
…

Blinding White

…

February 17th, 2001

The sound was deafening, no one cared, turning the speakers down would have ruined the mood, and the mood needed no ruining. Isaac was in the corner, surrounded by his wife, his friends, and ten to twenty people who wanted to be someone, ten to twenty nobodies hoping to attach themselves to someone the world knew, Isaac. He had become somebody, a big movie director, no longer relegated to the dark corners, but given the best seats. He was not anonymous, forgotten, ignored, he was at the top of the world. Perhaps life happened behind the scenes, but he would have none of that, why should he have to, he was now in the spotlight, none of his life had to be in the background anymore.
One of the wannabes was moving towards Isaac, acting like a big shot. Isaac couldn’t care less. The man approach Isaac, looked him in the eyes and asked him a shattering question. “Want to be somebody?”
“I am somebody!”, Isaac growled back.
“Are you?”, the stranger replied. He handed him a needle, heroine, Isaac knew it. He was silent contemplating the question put out to him, was he somebody? Everyone watched him, adored him, followed him, yet was he really someone, or was he some anonymous stranger, some nobody, just another celebrity, nothing special. He didn’t know, he couldn’t figure it out. He looked around him, all these people, he thought, were just here to attach themselves to a concept, not a person, they didn’t care who he was, they only cared about what he did, and he didn’t do anything others had not done. He wasn’t anything more than a copy, a replica of others before him. What he was made him special, but not who he was, he had once again failed to escape anonymity.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
“I am somebody”, he muttered.
He plunged the needle into his arm.
“I am somebody.”

…

Is this just another day,... this god forgotten place?
First comes love, then comes pain. Let the games begin,...
Questions rise and answers fall,... insurmountable.

Love boat captain
Take the reigns and steer us towards the clear,... here.
It's already been sung, but it can't be said enough.
All you need is love

Is this just another phase? Earthquakes making waves,...
Trying to shake the cancer off? Stupid human beings,...
Once you hold the hand of love,.. it's all surmountable.

…

Blinding White

…

September 14th, 1989

Isaac smiled. The crisp autumn wind blew across his face, shuffled his hair. He was supposed to be in class, but he was sitting on a park bench, his eyes closed. He wasn’t even thinking, he had just shut down, it was the most calming experience he had every felt, god did he love it.
But he couldn’t avoid thinking, be alone in silence on a park bench on a beautiful day can keep you entertained for so long without your mind beginning to wander. He opened his eyes, looked up saw children playing, dogs being walked, people talking, the smile remained on his face. All these people, they were alive, enjoy the joys of being alive. They were experiencing life, and this was all behind the scenes, no one would write about this, or make it into a movie, no it wouldn’t be know, it would be his personal private moment forever. Life was hidden from all, he thought, what is seen by the world isn’t life, it’s nothing, a sham, bullshit. Anonymity was nothing to get depressed about, it was a good thing, it made you human.
He stood up, began to walk, a golden retriever came up to him and rubbed up against him. He kneeled down, pet the dog, and smiled. God, he thought, what a moment, what a day, what a memory. This is the stuff true life is made of, these moments. Let yourself be unknown, he understood know, it wouldn’t matter, and as long as he held onto this moment he would never forget it.
He started to walk away, the dog barked, he waved and walked off, imagining this moment being filmed, accompanied by a perfectly fitting song.
Life does happen, he thought, it just did.

…

Cracked eggs, dead birds
Scream as they fight for life
I can feel death, can see it's beady eyes
All these things into position
All these things we'll one day swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out again

…

Blinding White

…

July 29th, 2003

“We’re losing him!”
“He’s already lost.”
“He’s still breathing, there’s still a pulse, we can save him, don’t just stand there.”
“Why save him, who is he that he needs to be saved? He a god-damned drug addict like the rest of them, he doesn’t deserve life anymore, he deserves this!”
“Who is he? He’s a freaking celebrity is who he is, he’s famous he needs to survive this!”
“He isn’t anyone, he’s nothing special, just one more overdose, one more statistic.”
“You’re a doctor for Christ sake.”
“He’s already lost.”
“But….”
“But what? He’s already lost. He’s just a nobody”
He flat-lined, he gave up, he wasn’t anything special, he went out in a cloud of anonymity, he had found life in the shadows but had left it, fled it, for one in the lights.
It’s amazing how we always go out in life the same way we came in, unknown.
He smiled.

…

Blinding White…