The Infinite Cycle of Matter

I was a young lad of twenty-one when this frightful experience occurred. When I moved out of my house in Virginia Beach, Virginia to find what life had for me, I found poverty to be nipping constantly at the paths I walked. The only dwelling place I could afford was a small studio apartment on top of a huge warehouse; both of wish had remained dormant for nearly eons, I had no other choice but to take it.
The gentlemen giving me the grand tour seemed quite disturbed and out of place with reality. He was short and plump in stature with a slightly disfigured face. He walked me through the warehouse to the apartment room in a rather cautious manner as if on the lookout for something detrimental. As we passed walls covered with dust and dead bugs, the man stopped and made the sign of the cross before going any further. I was struck with curiosity as to why he did that out of the clear blue; so I asked. He pointed to a message on a far off wall that had a broken window above it. The message read “Human longings go keenly watched from afar, though they know not of the axe hanging above for the select few.” My calmness withered to a drooping plant as my eyes, rather than my brain, took it in. “What is the meaning of that sick message,” I asked. He looked at me with cold blue eyes saying he could not speak of it because he found the definition behind it once before and now, chose never to speak of it again. I wanted to truly know but looking at his shivering and nervous figure, as if it was begging for mercy, I thought it best to let sleeping dog’s lye.
We climbed about twenty steps before reaching the apartment room. On the second to final step he handed me the apartment key, which turned out to be an old skeleton key. He was about to turn around to leave when I said, “Mr. Aren’t you going to show me my apartment.” He turned back to me and apologized, saying he had left the stove on and must attend to it but that if I needed anything his place was next store. I asked him if he was afraid of the apartment and he nodded. I informed him of the silliness in that and he became quite upset. “Mr. you wouldn’t of chosen this one room apartment if you had seen the things I have.” He muttered, a bit shaky as he was saying it. I expressed my apologies and introduced myself. He accepted, and he slowly descended the steps muttering his last words to me “I’m Mr. Auer Bach”.
I opened my apartment door, now feeling a bit detached from the rest of the world, for which I do not know the reason too, and found my apartment to be fully furnished. The room seemed untouched and untainted by the hands of time. I was in awe of the almost godly feeling this little room seemed to produce in me. I loved and was amused over the wooden beams that seemed to accompany the ceiling, which slanted upwards. I saw a bookcase in the far right hand corner of the room bearing books from care-free days that I, even now, long deeply for. To the far left was a kitchen covered only by a drape. I can’t explain it, even to this day the reasons I love little hiding spots or little places that safely go through the
ordinary day to day substances. It could be a normal human feeling of hiding from the horrid realities of this existence and knowing that when a magic force heals you, possibilities grow from the dark and doomed pits of despair that lye in us.
I noticed there were no windows in my whole place; for which I am glad. However, my nerves are given to claustrophobia, which stem from deadly panic attacks, this room is protecting me; holding my sanity on a high par . This room echoes simple existence and non-judgmental vibes around my soul, this I know and this I like. No human interaction lies within these walls, it’s a place where I can be me and strengthen myself so I can dream of great things and when the time is right, bring them to pass.
Somewhere in the middle of nights frightening rampage on the earth, for which all people hope to survive, I was jolted back from my peaceful voyage away from the world, back into reality, by a noise. At first, I just passed it to be the house having a bad dream and settling until it happened again. I turned on the lamp that stood on a stand by my bed and walked over to the source. It seemed to be coming from a loose floorboard. With trembling fingers, afraid to act because they contemplated what could be uncovered, I forced them to lift the floorboard. Reaching into the deep dust that had accumulated over time, I found a few dozen hand-written notes in black ink. Every letter oddly read the same, as if many perished individuals in some other world were uttering it to me. The letters read:
‘Human longings go keenly watched from afar, though they know not of the axe hanging above the select few. We knew nothing of our dreams, what was or could have been. We forever walk the plain grey looking for a bit of color that could define our existence. Please pull us out of the meaningless lands of oblivion.’
At the bottom of every letter were signatures of all those people. I scanned it, not reading into these names as actual people but only letters that man invented and put together into things called words for means of communication. Only one word caught my eye that registered as a name, Mr. Auer Bach.
All of a sudden, his disfigured face came to my minds eye and I could hear these voices pleading for release of what they called a purposeless oblivion and into a meaningful one. They sounds came to me in agonizing wails that began driving my brain into convulsions. I covered my ears, taking on a hollering pitch that took on a depth of its own. I cried out for these voices to cease and that’s when a wind as strong and as frightening as evils breath blew about the room knocking me into a secret passage along the left side wall.
Darkness engulfed me as an eye of blood began to open. White teeth stood up out of the blackness under the eye, as this unspeakable entity let out a roar that could scare any of the human species dead. I was then flung into its mouth and floated down further, seeing brief silhouettes of faceless bodies, maybe humans, under a orange light, screaming in torture as they burnt up. I transcended further, further, further into nothingness and finally too…????
I woke up the next morning recalling the oddest dream. A dream that I’ve had for as long as I remember, that of a kid and his search for something called meaning to something else called life. I don’t know what to make of that dream in all the times I’ve had it. All I am sure of is one thing and one thing only; my name is Mr. Auer Bach and I‘ve dreamt up something called meaning but with each passing day the idea and the definition of it fades. But I continually have dreams which relay a message of imaginary beings and there continual search for meaning. Yet, I am sure of only one thing “My name is Mr. Auer Bach.”