Finding Myself

Basically, I found myself without being myself.

Here’s a poetic summary, from a passage of my upcoming novel Red Eyes See Red Stars.

I always had a particular reason for my questionable actions. I would imagine twisting in the air, specs of dust formed of memories and those memories were words, not actual images. And I… I took the form of myself. This projection entitled: “Nine” Myself, a heteronym created by a Portuguese writer that manifested during the timeline of 1991; a full-effect Gemini, you might call it reincarnation. I might call it another form of gravitational force.

Myself, by myself. A lone gentleman who fizzled away history, every atom that had passed through myself, a category, name, and story for each of them. Words took their place, similar to the treatment of memories. I sincerely believe the best way to travel is to feel. Feel with words, not your hands. This might be another symptom of being myself without truly being myself. This year entitled: “2036” Equals nine.

A Time Poet initiates life.

Example A: Bob is a regular fella, he sits on a couch and watches TV. Inside the wallpaper of the house – hair follicles left over from the 1987 renovation; a memory of a carpenter, a life force of 1987. Was it Bob? No, it wasn’t Bob’s hair follicle. Bob couldn’t even switch over a breaker that Thanksgiving in 1987 when a blunder Thunderstorm helped carry on the tradition of his family’s candle-lit dinner they were to have at 8:PM sharp that night. Bob was old-fashioned, but Bob was never a handyman, not in any way or form.

The man the hair belonged to went by the name of “Ernest Wallings” his hair crusted within the spectrum of the drywall. Leftover for times’ benefit. Ernest had taken the renovation job for extra cash. The holidays were burning a hole in the savings of him and his dried-up wife; she had produced six children and each one had an appetite of a mule. They had a mule, two of them, one was given to Ernest as payment on a roof he patched up for a local farmer. The other they purchased at an auction to accompany the other mule, a thoughtful gesture from a tumbling fella.

Example B: Susie attends her first day of High School. A Time Poet masters a memory. Bricks from the school dilute modern era and lay forward a new foundation. 1864, a livery is the school, the school is a livery. Ball caps exchanged for Cow-skinned hats. Example B is the mastering of a time and space, using no current DNA to engage the travel. Deriving fallen memories without substance. Pure skill. There was no proof that the livery existed, letters fell from the bricks, unraveling languages, commanding a plot and story. Humans view life through a second-story window, never paying attention to what takes motion underneath their feet. Myself, a limbless facilitator of time and space. I am that motion. And just to let you know… I did find a memory underneath a piece of wallpaper once, it peeled into a capability of everlasting motion.

This is official Project Astral poetry

-Raphael Baldaya

Categories: Time Machine Poetry, Uncategorized

Tags: , , ,

12 replies

  1. I was studying some of your articles on this website and I believe this site is rattling informative!
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    Liked by 1 person


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