The Ability to Escape

Author’s note: So as a society I think we have a problem. We find all these things that help us escape reality, escape the truth: alcohol, food, drugs. In Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde a potion is used. Eventually this “escape” takes over completely. Why do we think running away from everything that’s hard in life is going to help us? I personally believe God doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle. Anyways, this is a poem about our tendency to run away from everything. We created our reality so why run away from it? Maybe it’s because we become consumed by the chase. Dr. Jekyll was consumed by his alter ego, the simple obsession with what was wrong and had once been out of reach. I think that come pretty close in relation with OUR true desires.

Cool air burns the raw of my throat
Heart pounding
Time slows
Nature silences
And the light seduced to a glimmer

My palms wet with fear
Whispers stir the qualm of my mind
Such hopelessness
Once so absent
I mustered an escape

My breath weakens
My knees shake
And the ground becomes my resting place
There is nothing left
I’ve used it all
The sudden fatal blow

This reality I’ve spent so long creating
Now crashes to the floor
My only wish
To forget
Leave it all dwindling behind me

Weakness driving the mind
I run instead
Send away my fears
Brushing the past from my shoulders
Only a temporary high
And it returns once more.

Just a little bit of power....

Author's note: This is just a bunch of random thoughts on the idea of what we put ourselves through in order to meet the world's standards. I went off of the idea of the door; the outer appearance can reflect something completely different than what's on the inside. It is so easy to control our appearance so our heart's reflection doesn't show through. When did it get this why? Why is it so easy for us to change ourselves if we don't appear the way someone else does? Sure there are confident people who share their ideas (I completely respect them) but they've struggled with this same thing, that longing to belong and be accepted.

Everyone has this ability, “gift” if you prefer it that way; we have power, power to control our own appearance, power to inhabit space elsewhere, secret and alone. Our souls are guarded by a façade, blocking out all the views and judgment of the morbidly honest world outside. We can control what they see because we’re given the tools to hide our own emotions. The door from Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is just an obstacle seen by the outside. They don’t know the activity that happens inside or the steady flow of emotion that travels along the inner walls. Just think about how much we hide from everyone. What would it be like if we were just honest and raw?

Our eyes, and ears, and hands, and the entirety of our face are the only windows into our hearts. These behaviors give a glimpse of the complicated process that rings about in our minds. The fact is it’s so much easier to hide and just blend with the crowd than it is to stand out. Somewhere along the line we became convinced that different is outdated and the standards have been set. Why are there standards anyway? Only one side of our being can meet the so-called “standards”: our appearance. This is the façade, the barrier, which stands between our authentic nature and the outside world.

The curious characters of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde only see one view of the door; a blank, mysteriously quiet, windowless barricade. The inaccessible space inside remains unknown long enough that the door is left alone. This happens to us. We hold up a mask long enough that people begin to accept it and eventually we become lost in this lie that we ARE the person we portray day after day. You can gain acceptance from everyone around you but lose yourself in the process. When did acceptance become such a burden? Why do our souls reflect two different images? We swing personalities and eventually get caught up and confused. Our identity is blurred with our expectations, with our standards. And this all happens because we were given just a little bit of power.

Fog.

Author's note: This is my short story response to the second part of Dr. Jeckyll & Mr. Hyde. I tried to capture the repetition of face the author uses and the underlying mystery affect seen in "fog".

Moisture rolled silently down the panes of the window. The dense air crept through the cracks of the wood, making its way to my nostrils. The thick, suffocation only lasted seconds and passed on. The cycle repeated as I sat rocking. I stared blankly at the walls of the room, my seclusion hidden to the outer realms of the house. My arms lay motionless against the chipped wood of the chair. A light blinked unsteadily in the middle of the room, lighting up the corner and leaving it dark again—over and over. The lids of my eyes fluttered and my gaze switched to the window. Light poked through the deep mist. I stood up slowly, with quivering hands I grabbed hold of the cane leaning against the cold, cement wall.

I wandered to the window. My eyes squinted in an effort to see through the hazy screen that lay between me and the street. The fog corrupted my vision with a stirring emotion. I brushed the window with my fingertips and peered through the small sight I had created. A figure stood tall in the street. Lying beneath it: a dark, morbid shadow. The moon’s luminous glow deflected from a stream of red. The stream curled and bent through the valleys of the cobblestone street. I rose to the tips of my toes and stretched my neck to see the face of the hollow, gaunt victim. A face of innocence and purity shown through the night. The tall figure remained, staring down upon it with disgust. The scene lay clearer and clearer as the fog lifted and hung just below the tall man’s nose. A force beyond my control caused a smile to flood my face. The darkest depths of my soul screamed for more; my eyes glued to the deathly, oppressed silhouette. Curiosity drove my dark wander, and suddenly the fog returned and the haze flushed my nostrils once more. I ruminated in the vision I'd just seen, crawling deeper and deeper into it. I let my body fall to the chill of the floor, my knees curl to my chest and a sinister grin resided upon my face. And I shut my eyes.

Jekyll Hyde #1

Author’s note: Robert Louis Stevenson screams mystery in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Somehow we see the reality that our curiosity is so consuming and some powerful force draws us to circumstances without answers. There is a dark undertone to mystery, an evil, controlling energy that infests our thoughts. “A certain sinister block of building thrust forward its gable on the street” (39) turning heads, eyes gazing with wonder. The novel gives full credit to this mystery as an explanation for the character of the passer-byers.

Mystery.

This powerful demon
driving the attention of so many weak souls
souls scarred and stained by worldly expectations
standards swallowing society as a whole

Uncovering a curiosity
pulling and tearing at our judgment
A door; a simple, ordinary object.
Using this simple, ordinary object
To drive the human mind mad

Quiet and subtle
Attempting to go unnoticed
Instead stirring accusations
It is not only the door that shelves mystery
Eyes and ears that so desperately lay focus on the door
Conveying an even greater unknown