A Clarity of Representations

A Clarity of Representations

Written by Brett Jones

Introduction

It comes to mind. A piece of clarity should be shared before you dive into this endeavor on your senses, and on your heart. I have lived a life most would not consider difficult, or a “hardship” sustained by any definition. To those that struggle in a manner more difficultly than I, I concur your resolution will not fall ideally in the place I have pictured for you, the reader. However, that in and of itself is the underlying definition of what I’ve written. I wrote my experiences of life, some first hand, some second, in an effort to appeal to a grander audience. To know what you’re reading is not a goal you should set. It’s sub context, to its very core. Take for example, my title. It is the sub context of the definition of a map. To put into words a description of what could be anywhere from thirty seconds in time, to nearly thirty years in time would not and will not do justice for what you're about to read. I ask you to keep an open mind, I encourage you to find your own answers. And now, you’re surely in a mental state that I will carry you through in the majority of this book.

-Reconstructing Hope-

The shadows of a fate I'll soon find out. The road blocked with a past you'll remember only to hate. A sleepless night becomes a welcomed peace. I can't tell you how I feel when my heart is numb. I don't care what becomes of my voice, but I hope your life changes from symbols I formed into words.

Do I leave a scent when I pass? Will you be longing to touch the shoulders, the receptacle for your tears when my chest no longer rises? These questions you hang your hat on, oh what hope Brett has lost. I laugh aloud when your world crashes because you played me for a pedestal. Rising above me only to break under the fall of affection you gained from feeling so proud.

Will your thoughts flee, or step from the shadows and stop putting yourself above me? Over and over I hallowed out my insides, with a hope you mocked. You're so much better than me, because really I'm the one who's a hypocrite, thanks for the reminder I almost forgot. You took it literally when I spoke of fate, blinding those shallow eyes from a deeper meaning. I speak in riddles and draw on images you'd likely see in dreams, not for me! I bleed within as I see your feelings, hoping my gift will allow you to see the hope that you, not I, have been deconstructing.

-Sickened-

Running in circles with no name for a face, fed up with the thought of losing ground in popularity's never ending race. Eyes bloodshot and swollen, he's forced to the unforgiving surface. It's different for everyone, an affliction that liquidates your very core. It separates reality from fiction and blurs the senses causing indecision amongst our closest convictions.

Strain your eyes and clinch your fist, there's nothing you can do now. Seeping inside and corrupting your mind, it's their thoughts that project upon you. Shoulders slump as your head bows, failing to find strength. It has no sight, nor smell or vaccination. It's the sickening of the heart as the one we love has some other fascination.

-Hopes and Dreams-

Sitting in front of a screen without a name,searching for a memory but I’m left with nothing more than the whisper of sound. The painful thud of an empty heart, these tears don’t seem to forget where I was from the start.

I can’t remember the last time I chose to believe, seeing the world through eyes torn and mangled. Where is my constant, the one who no longer succumbs to the inevitable desire to deceive?

I want so much from this life. But it never seems to follow through as it’s consistently strangled in an impossible maze. The secret it seems is not in the answers we never receive, but in the hopes and dreams that as humans only we can conceive.