You haven’t reached me yet.

A Quantum Theater style exploration….
You haven’t reached me yet.
I am still generating this haze, right out in front.
Guarding myself against freshness.
You won’t reach me, I’m sure of it.
The wind starts blowing through and the fog only thickens,
a sign that I am “off” like a light.
Slathered on the floor with my face toward the wall.
There is no person here, you can’t find me.
How long until the cosmic peek-a-boo forces me to open my eyes?
You aren’t big enough or strong enough to see beyond the barrier I’ve put up.
Granted, it’s no “Great Wall” but each brick is made of sore spots that are tuned into a non-existent station.
Where only static shows up, I can only assume that this is what’s real.
These spaces between are where I feel at home, though they don’t feed me and I really don’t even like them.
I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, but I don’t want a drink. The nectar seems to be elsewhere, but I don’t want to go there.
Clouds of disharmony seem to be in every direction, so why bother moving?
What are you doing? Are you milking the clouds?
Aren’t you afraid of them? Aren’t you terrified of becoming the static?
You’re eating the space! It doesn’t seem fair, this is my home!
It doesn’t seem right when you eat the boundaries.
Somehow I feel I’ll miss limits that never nourished me.
Being forsaken seems better than being nothing at all.
How are you so sure there’s another option?
You’ll have to tear me away, I’ll never stop clinging!
Unless you do this one little thing for me, which I can only keep a secret for so long.
I don’t want to tell you, but it seems inevitable.
I do wish I could keep my head in the sand, or at least take it out through an act of defiance.
But without someone to defy, I guess I’m left here alone.
Alone, sand piling up on the dunes.
Waiting for a turn of the page.
Curiosity strikes now that I’ve got truly nothing to lose.
Turning the page, to bear witness. And it’s not what I thought it would be. Not at all.
I was so afraid of the chaos, but I must admit everything seem to be in order. And this whole story was planned all along.
And the fog can come too if it feels so inclined.
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Joshua Edjida
Lead Storyweaver
Joshua Edjida is a multidimensional artist, experience designer, author, public speaker/comedian, and transformational leadership facilitator. Originally from California, he currently lives in Colorado, and also enjoys traveling in Thailand, Bali, or in Europe.

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