Setting the scene of Charlie's untimely demise I will now take you to a place where he called home for an unmarked amount of days...
Jazz music played in the background.
It was the type of jazz music that would remind you of words such as rifts and beats. This was the new Charlie. He knew he would soon revert back to his lame, sane self again like the flours for aldrunon in a matter of days, or weeks but not months. For now though... in this moment...
Charlie Lynks was insane...
He was human.
Every time the jazz music would play a long note he could feel it... in the speck of his mind in which he knew that he was, he could feel it.
Charlie didn't know where the jazz music was coming from. Was it in the back of his mind? Or was it silently playing from the speakers in front of him?
"Clumsy wind tickles" He thought without reason.
He felt the statement to be profound though so he kept it in his mind and let it linger...
"Fall is fickle..." He continued his thought.
"Seasons loss, soon to pass." He aligned the thought with feelings of grandeur and thanksgiving.
The day was like no other and yet it was like any other as well. Charlie had been living on his own for years now. He knew the routine... Fall was when his mind was most vulnerable; Christmas relied entirely on how much time he spent inside his mind during the fall. The winter would blur his visions and give him paranoid thoughts that came so often as snowflakes hitting the ground. Spring was always a depressive season as he felt the realization of shedding his skin and therefore the loss of a friend. Summer... was all about rebuilding. This day, however was not in the summer...
It was in the fall.
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Techno music played in the background through his speakers.
This day was like any other. It had been winter for quite a while now and Charlie was just starting to get use to his identity. "Once again. Drop the bass." Sang the speakers with a rather high amount of treble. Charlie Lynks felt normal. He had the fears and anxiety everyone else portrayed out loud the only difference being he kept his culminating inside. He was conscious of his cosmic footprint and yet when he was asked about the universe... he would reply.
"I don't believe in ghosts, I do believe in spirits." He would leave it at that but something in him would act up and want to be the salvation of a limp soul.
"I feel like we all have a spirit and that there's a power behind each one. This along with purity and a thousand lifetimes of experience and possibly memories."
"I don't think many spirits would hang around the same planet after they die though... Instead what we feel or imagine are just imprints of people in closely paralleled dimensions or possibly people that are roaming around outside of their bodies while dreaming by astral projection or whatnot."
"You're crazy." They would respond in a desperate attempt to not understand.
"No," Charlie would say... "but I use to be."
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Spring.
No music played this time.
There was an emptiness that Charlie felt ever since his great adventure had ended.
"Seasons loss... Soon to pass" A thought entered Charlie's mind that he quickly whisked away.
He had no time for these things and yet....
If he could just... get it together... he would be ready for the summer.
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Wake up.
Wake up.....
Charlie's mom cried each day around the same time by his hospital bed.
Charlie had been in a comma for three years now...
It was time for him to wake up.
.
