Netcees - PROJECT X WEEK THREE

X

"Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics." - Carl Jung

FADE IN:

EXT. THE BREEDING GROUND - DUSK

I was fleshed out before I knew it, guess I'll never be a bloody mess
Ironic I've seen nothing but red since my recent brush with death
The beginning is bigger than the end, I'll never stop linking to the next
Unless thoughts swimming in my head are not sinking in I guess
It's really for the best; I'm just a poor kid that's been blessed
An important reflection - All I ever see in portraits is an 'X'...
By all appearances a legend is topography at its peak
I keep my spirits high like heaven while my body rots beneath a tree
Whether deep oceans or outer space, there's no breathing once you're in it
Which for an instant makes sleeping with the fishes even more suspicious
A man whispered, "Let me in"; a vacancy if none will try to listen
I'm basically caught inside a vision of a mind once lived in
That's primed for eviction; Then again who am I to dismiss it?
How are you defined as a victim of the very suicide you committed?
Family battles with genetics left mom bleeding like a siv
I knew I would take after her even when she had nothing left to give
Water colors brought the thunder, a blue-ish stale orange mix
Amidst gale force winds I'm a stable fit - Who let the pale horse in?
I wondered why we shed blood like skin of dried up serpents
Then heard, "You were brought into this earth with a higher purpose..."
The sky lit up like fireworks, it's not that surprising
Terror sub-siding, my mom's floating along the horizontal horizon
She fought with sobriety, hiding keys inside a hierarchy
Yet believed secret societies reeked of impropriety
Meaning they're a lie... So having a leg up on me was just a crutch
Ripple effects when innocence left radiate deep within my lungs
I'm waiting for a bus that never comes... My only pick-me up was carried drugs
Mom's care free buzz was sprinkled with nefarious fairy dust
She was always wearing gloves... See every story takes me farther
A lazy artform, painting me into a corner only makes things harder
The part I'm playing right now is of a rare escapist hoarder
Some lines are never crossed wherever there's a makeshift border
Where there's no meddlin' reporters thumping chests about my "disorder"
No metal in these quarters, under punishment of grounding and torture
It's not abnormal to hear screaming coming out from the forest
Sound is enormous; When not allowed to explore we're bound ignore it
Like a mushroom cloud when exploded... Now reverse the sound in bursts
A picture's worth a thousand words unless a verse endowed it first
This place is a lost and found, all told it's an important procedure
Affording me leisure, but it's so ill conceived I was born with a fever
Just to end up a corpse for the reaper; Never listened to the morbid old teacher
Or left his private school, but the windows weren't boarded up either...
Of course mom's inflated ego couldn't carry the weight of these hopes
I broke through her drug induced haze that was 1980's ethos
I'm just a fallacy, a strange sequel with no villain credited
The second coming lacks originality but can still get edited
Mom's intended bioluminescence formed a violent perspective
But those vile few lessons were so harrowin' she tried to inject it
Ultraviolet weapons while unburdened left my loved ones murdered
Jot it in journals; I dug it up further but with not as much fervor
From thin air a narrative emerged... Either I'm re-pulsed or dead
Same old story - Voices inside my head guide my cerebral cortex
Then a gust of wind from August swam through my consciousness
Which superseded common sense of never being on the fence
I admit it felt good to walk... Odd because I was literally levitating
I heard, "Every picture you are painting is history in the making"
Then, "Your floor is my ceiling, Joy... I'll struggle finding a replacement"
"The height of my expectations are awkwardly climbing in your basement"
I'm on the straight and narrow, pain I suffered let out a tired shout
It sounded off, "Don't blame your mother for how your life turned out"
No time for her now; Although the concept is simple and grounded
I always had a sneaking suspicion mom tiptoed around it...

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. GRAVEYARD - DAY

I'm proud dad was a rolling stone... Too bad I'm a minuscule boulder
Never floating; I was merely propped up on his invisible shoulders
That's how I saw my mother approaching... I faced a planet wide threat
She knelt down, looked in my eyes and placed a hand on my chest
And said, "I knew I'd find you here..."; I felt all my demons repent
Guess beneath the learning tree it's only fallen leaves we regret...
Dreaming embeds; "You're alive and well," she said, "your heart is beating again"
"But my little needle and thread... you need to stop believing you're dead..."
Thoughts joust in my head, strange words no longer leak out my mouth
Precipitating my demise; This brain storm is in need of a drought
Can't regret inception when you don't know what it's even about
Death is perspective; A reasonable doubt created by people that count
Evil has now collected its souls, you wouldn't believe the amount
So if this was an out of body experience... I'll see myself out...

BACK TO:

EXT. THE BREEDING GROUND - DUSK

I'm Gone with the Wind - I always wondered if Humphrey Bogart's in it
Like a blowhard winded, I'm a cold hard victim of Cotard's syndrome
A neuropsychiatric condition that makes you the opposite of living
In the end I'm the walking dead without a topic thread, it's fitting...
The wind stops its incessant spinning - Thank God my art was savored
I saw a bald man in a wheelchair picking up discarded papers
His seated posture never waivered, it felt electric in nature
That's how I found myself next to my savior, Professor Xavier
He explained, "You've been the wind of change from a brisk young age"
"What comes from your wrist once laid is prophecy... I can't risk one page"
"Of course pictures are framed; They're not predictions but a portal"
"Chaos lives under order; I had Storm make this wind tunnel for you..."
Adding, "It's hard to make a name for yourself while on the lamb..."
"We carved out this little plot of land so that everything you draw expands..."
"Into what?" I stammered, "a plan?" It's the only option I could guess
He said, "You only thought you might be dead after I got inside your head"
"Sorry for the intrusion..." He glanced at an image that showed two seeds
"Every still portrait you conceive will forever grow true leaves"
"You're the paper trail our movement needs, here's the truth you seek..."
"Joy you inherited the mutant gene from your mother... Jubilee"
All I could say was, "Who is she? He said, "You remember Wolverine..."
"Between you and me, you are stronger than he ever thought you'd be..."
"He never said boo to me..." I was a spirit moving through a sheet
"Then you agree," he grinned, "parents are but a future eulogy..."

Take a peek...

http://www.netcees.org/showthread.php?t=143514

http://www.netcees.org/showthread.php?t=143603

"If children of superheroes can form newfound leagues..."
"Then so can we; But very few believe Deadpool now speaks..."
"I want you to paint something for me; Here's the main color you will need..."
He produced a clean red palette, "It's crucial we make every human bleed..."

EXIT CEREBRO

INT. THE CEREBRO ROOM - TIME UNKNOWN

Professor Xavier removed Cerebro's helmet and let it fall to the ground
"What did you see?" a young Jubilee asked while adopting a frown
Every syllable of that question was minutes torn off an hour
Xavier thought, 'How can I tell her about her unborn daughter now?''
No stopping this apocalypse; He had glimpsed the future crowds
Who dreamed words of prophets until every sentence proved profound
He took a long breath, drew it out... All this adolescent knew was doubt
So instead of answering her question...

... he just kept it to himself.

For now...

FADE OUT.

ROLL CREDITS

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SMASH CUT TO:

INT. THE CEREBRO ROOM - TIME UNKNOWN

What disturbed him most was the voice, he felt the echo ring around
It said, "Hello there, Charles... Don't you remember being pals?"
"Opposites attract..." He now had a death wish to be drowned
Jubilee yelped, "Magneto..." and vanished, never to be found...
Cerebro's screen was disabled, all countermeasures would be down
The jewelry Jubilee endowed had been embedded like a crown
He knew Erik's verbiage always made the message world-renowned
So in the end, his silence was even more prophetic than it sounds...

Close your eyes, old man.

CUT TO BLACK.