The Journey For Sustenance

Its early in the morning and I am hungry. I am very sick, and I know I shouldn't leave my dwelling, but I need sustenance. So it looks like I'm going out after all.

I crawl out of my dwelling into the suburban jungle in which I live. I feel the cool breeze that is the remainder of the night on my face, and I begin to walk. Its almost that time of the morning. The time where the blessed darkness of the night will climax and roll off me to the far side of the bed, where she will sleep in bliss, But I know what that means, and I can see it coming from the other side, It's the apocalypse, full and bright, and its going to scorch me with all its morning fury if I don't get my food and get back soon, at least that's what it seems like.

As I walk past other dwellings I can feel the unnatural warmth and sweat in and on me. I shouldn't have ventured out, but I need my sustenance.

As I turn onto the industrial road way that leads to the market, I see pixie birds fly by me and chirp overhead. So tinny yet when I see their eyes I see spinning billiard balls full of fury big and bright in the same instant.
I can see the decay in the roadway as I approach the market place. I didn't see it before but I do now. The cement looks smooth on the surface, but its a deep scar on the crust of the planet. I can see that now. They all are. All the while the gluttonous beasts speed along them, bellowing foggy death and blinding light and roars, all for our convenience.

I enter the market and hunt as only an evolved 21st century ape like thing can do. I wheel a buggy around and around and around, picking and choosing the parts of the animals and plants and other more artificial things I most desire, in their convenient and often deglo containers.

I pay with pulp mixed with paint numbered by those who claim to rule the world, or at least a portion of it, and I set back out into the world for my dwelling.

I'm getting tired. I should have stayed in and rested, but I needed to feed.

I need my sustenance.

Walking back I can see that everything is a bit different, as its getting brighter. I can see pine cones on this industrial road from the trees there,
seeds that fell and wish to grow but can't because of too much pavement.
My fever is worsening, I can feel it, though the sickness is giving me new sight to see with.
I feel as though I'm in a bubble and through it I can see what the Earth is feeling. Like being inside a big air pocket and walking along the bottom of a distant ocean. As I turn into my slice of suburban jungle, things get brighter still.

As I get sicker I can see further into a world behind ours. I could tell that it was once the most beautiful thing you could ever see at one time, but now it was a frightful sight to behold. I saw things as I walked. Things pressing against my bubble, faces, appendages. Faces of rage and pain.
The trees no longer reached out for the sun but reached away and lashed out at random. The light that once bathed this grand orb in life was now burning it to a sunder slowly and surely. Everything I saw showed this.

I knew I shouldn't have left my dwelling, but I was hungry. My body required rest, but I needed sustenance.

I was almost home, but almost didn't count. I could see death slowly seeping into everything. I could see the steam rising under my feet. The world was going mad. Through my sickness, I was seeing the Earths sickness. I was seeing what was to come.
I realized then that we were fucked. Its a simple expression, and to some a crude one, but it was balls on accurate.
I realized the world I was seeing through this warped bubble was real, but no one else could see it. We've grown too detatched. Too concerned with hair appointments, pop stars, and porn among other things equally useless. We are slaves to the "MARTS" of the world.
Your average evolved ape thing doesn't even know when its doing evil anymore. He can't know, at least all the time. Millions of them shop at the MARTS with compassion and love in their hearts for their herd, and unknowingly they're injuring and killing others of their kind in a distant part of the globe at the same time. Even those of us more aware than that can't help but ask"Are we doing the same somehow?"

Well we are. I saw it in all of its horrible glory, and I know one simple thing.

The world I saw is all too real, and the barrier between it and us is getting thin.
At one time, the Earth might have considered us a loving part of it, a working gear in its grand machine, but not now. We are simply a contagion of flees and mites on her back, and when that barrier I saw breaks and falls, her antibodies are going to fuck us six ways from Sunday. Good, Righteous, and Proper.

Oceans will boil and rage.

The Sun will Burn, not illuminate.

This whole fucking sphere will turn itself inside out.

I finally reach my dwelling and I turn the key just as the burning rays of the sun hit my back, but only for a moment. I escape into the darkness of my alcove. I put away the things that I proclaimed in smaller alcoves.
I then proceed to masticate pills and fluid designed to ease my illness symptom's.

I crawl into the darkness of my sleeping chamber and all I can do is wait, knowing what awaits us all. As the pharmaceuticals enter my blood stream I can hear the raging screams of the world less and less, and all turns to dark once again. I think of swimming in cool water.

I always loved swimming.................... ........ .. .............. .