The Soul

Power's out.
Inside the walls foundations creak and darkness invades. When is a house not a home? What is it about the loss of functioning that makes a house a building. Destitute and alone.
And how does the sudden acknowledgment of the always lurking knowledge suddenly shake you to your core and dissect everything you once knew into brand new ideas separating them into categories once nonexistent? Birthing something from the loss of everything.
What does it mean to wrap arms around another and hold them closely? Why do we feel the need to be so close that our lips can touch and should only our hands hold? What are eyes made of? And when they're closed is the power out? What makes a house a home?
The world follows trends. Or patterns?

- Taylor J. Pridgen


The Nuts and Bolts

It feels as if the sun came out at night to simply watch over me. But I know how that is impossible because the moon is forever my lighthouse in life and it's done such a great job lately.

I've never been close to death.
People die and I'd rather not mourn. A startling chemistry inside me builds up to let me know that I'm not sad as I should be. Maybe we should celebrate the life of the death. And we really are only being selfish in mourning those being left behind.

But if a heaven is everything you could ever need to be truly happy. I couldn't imagine anything better than interaction and discovery with everything the world has to offer. Am I living a heaven and what could be better than waiting for the disaster?
If there is no life after death than I'll die anxious, but accomplished.

And in the meantime, I find it funny how saddled I am with everything Big. I've long since ignored all the little things that while important never held sufficient space in my attention.
And still, each star is its own sun, possibly bigger than ours, occupying areas in space unimaginably far away.
Yet, I can hold them in my hands.

-Taylor J. Pridgen


The Dream

There came a point in your life that something big, or dangerous, happened. Something I couldn't let happen.

And so I traveled through time.

Whether or not I solved this potential problem, I met you on the pews of the most gorgeous Church / School I had ever dreamed. Maybe you added to its beauty.

What I had set out to accomplish in the first place might as well have been settled for at that time it was as if I met you for the first time and fell in love with you for the first time all over again.

We caused havoc and explored the Church. Finding ourselves in the middle of the night at the top of an indoor tower where we couldn't help but laugh at the elegant elephant decorations or swoon at the moon.

Your dorms were underground, where only the tail-end of light burst through the bottoms of windows. Surrounded by a library, I found it funny how fitting it was. And that somehow I snuck in to be able to sleep next to you for the first time all over again.

Morning came and I found myself faced with your classmates who, for no apparent reason, all spoke japanese. You knew it too, but as if to prove just how intelligent you truly are, you had already mastered these languages.

In order to be able to pay for my living in this time, I turned to begging with two accomplices. We had a routine down and somehow it worked. We received money.

And I saw you again.
We walked the park by your school and appreciated all of the little things in life.

And something happened. Part of the school collapsed. Tragedy was thick in the air. But I had no clue what happened to you. You didn't die, you just disappeared.

Lo, I returned to begging. Perhaps you weren't gone. Just, in hiding. It was on that day I received a Turkey Penny. Apparently these were quite rare, so my comrades and I celebrated. However, while they weren't looking I slipped the coin into my pocket.

Lucky thing too. For we were immediately robbed of our earnings by an eager man on a motorcycle.

I shrugged and retreated with my penny in pocket to meet a friend of mine I had made on this journey. We walked the path around the park until we got to a house of a child's birthday. The parents informed us that instead of coming in, we should just grasp the top of the wall and hold ourselves on top.

The dad was teaching the boy to drum on a ball. He was very good but the child couldn't quite get the exact rhythm his father had. Even if the child's rhythm in itself was impressive.

Later I met up with my begging buddies and we reminisced about old times. I was part of this time now, no longer a traveler. I took out my Turkey Penny and showed it to them. They all smiled and patted me on the back.

I remember the final moment of the dream, one of my friends told me

"Yeah that could definitely stop a bullet."
And I thought of you...