My vision became vividly colored of the white blue skies outside. The whole of the world passing by through the window of the school bus on my way home somehow managed to fit inside my small pupils. The hill top the bus cruised on showed a view of the wonderous, wide, and wonderful blue restless oceans of the East side. “You see the waves were waving at me”, the driver stuttered. He repeated himself over, and over again like a broken record. The bus came to a screeching halt, hurling us forward from our seats, and the bus doors swung open. A salty breeze swooshed in. The driver got off his seat looking as mad as a hatter,and left since we reached our destination. He warned us of a storm coming.
It had already been the worst day of my life. There was thick red blood running down my face and I covered it up with my hands so no one would ask me why. The food on my plate was left cold until my mother walked into the living room. She told me, “son you gotta tell me what you did.” I broke a sweat trying to remember the details reliving the events.
I had waited all year for a base ball signed by my hero to be auctioned off at the pawn shop. It was up for sale to purchase, and i had been one of the first ones there right when the doors opened. I had spent every last saved up penny on, not just a ball, but a symbol of what meant the world to me. A sign of luck, and a ticket to my superstitious belief in victory.
The base ball put down the philosophy of life through the leather. It was a reflection of the perception of how there was a whole world of things to discover, and the best part about it all, was that they were all illusions that were all as validly as real as each other in one shape or form. Finding them out to be real, then connecting it with ones inner feelings to see how it all fit together, among one big universal web of knowledge and application, created a competitive game. It came to show how endlessly abundant the world was, how much there was for mankind to experience, and to find beauty in.
Baseballs were otherwise ordinary. Even the appreciation, and action of accepting all that was for what was, seemed to be the greatest gift, and the currency of love known as Gratefulness. The small white ball with red stripes represented transcendence of consciousness, of appreciating the illusion of the world. The athletes who passed by bases like days did, and the past did. They represented the endless potential of the imagination, due to their life less spherical shape. Giving purpose to an inanimate object showed there is fulfillment being okay with not having to do anything in life, yet taking the time to do something anyway, for the fun and enjoyment of itself.
Being apart of a team was a retrospective of life being a very spacy, warm, and loving affair from ones own experiences. As well as losses that symbolized the failed high expectations a person can have, and the struggles someone could have about them. One could think of it as a man moving on from his past problems to find sunnier skies knowing that life has so much more to offer. Like exploration, adventure, the Imgaination, Higher Love, or passion.
Then, there was an endless amount of ways to self-actualize, and philosophize. A person could spend the rest of their life doing any of those things, and wouldn't even begin to reach the end, like the never ending circular shape of a base ball, because that's how infinitely large minds, feelings, and the world was. However, in the big mystery, one could still win the game of life by solving their own problems, yet immersing in the observation of the grand scheme of things, such as capturing vivid ideas for example. Even, by believing in things people considered absolutely crazy to think were true, like how much a game could mean.
I had finally attained the ball, but as I was practicing base ball before my next tournament with my friend, the ball had gone over the fence, and landed between the grave stones of the cemetery. I skipped towards it when in the darkness of the light lethal liabilities has emerged. My stomach dropped, and face went pale with a glimpse of the hounds that stood there in the darkness of the light, growling at me. As I stood there in paralyzing fear, a bark from a pretty ugly wild dog reverberated as the rest of the pack heeded its battle call. They were unleased with the locks of their cages broken off by the ferocity of their depraved souls.
The vicious, beastly dogs came towards me baring their dagger like sharp teeth to feed on my sweaty flesh. My chest pounded, and my mind ran. They appeared to be starved, just for the kill. I tried to storm out the cemetery wondering to myself “where is the end?” The sound of my beating heart drowned out the sounds of my screams. I fell face down and busted my nose, and hadnt found my base ball.
Thankfully, as i recalled the events, my mom informed me my friend had found the base ball, and had handed it to her while i wasn’t home. It was our only shot of winning the next game, since it was a base ball signed by the top professional athlete with fifty wins in a row. It was touched by his hands.
I shifted out of my day dream as a loud panicky voice filled with fear disrupted my inner state! “Evacuate the area now! The storm is coming”, my mother screamed. Without a second thought, i ditched everything and headed out to the back yard. The muddy ground pulling my foot in were making my steps slower and heavier. I spotted the base ball at the far end.
The violent skies lit up with lightning, frying the flying fire flies. They disintegrated in the air as i tried to keep running. A strong suction swooped me in, as well as everything that remained in sight. I couldn’t escape it. I closed my eyes, as the air pressure dropped l, and no oxygen remained for me to breathe in the vertex of the tornado.
There was deafening silence, and the dust settled. Everything once there, in a thousand disintegrated pieces of destruction. The ones not attached to materialistic objects, were safe and free.