This page is a branch of The Time Travel Tree.
I wrote this piece when I was around twenty to express my feeling of alienation.
The Dust Child
by Story Waters
I was the child that came from the dust, when there was nothing left, when all inside of a man cancelled out,
when life had become devoid of meaning and he left the stage.
I was the residual energy that lay scattered across the earth, the neglected residue left behind as harmless, left unobserved, decay that would erode.
I formed from the eye of nature undestroyed, the perception that underlies all foci, the dance at the periphery of life, the very dust from which all creaturehood births, the unaccredited elemental natures.
I formed my own existence. Growing from the waste, I stepped forth into life, took over a life destroyed. An egg that came to me, that had always felt me, that knew my name.
Together we harnessed discarded perception, from all the life that had been deselected, the very keys to unraveling everyone of humanities truths. To undo their damage, their lies, their hate, their blindness, my pain.
I came forth into a shattered world. A fractured construction of an existent paradise. Finding the missing pieces in my soul, I felt cursed at the muteness of physicality.
I called for a cure from the alienation but I was the dust, the discarded, and people will not bring in the trash.
But I have found my peace, found my song in creativity, filling in the gaps in reality, healing from within.
I am the Dust Child.