Have you ever dreamed that the one thing you desired with an insatiable craving was real? A flow of incalculable amounts of happiness runs through your mind as you engage with what you've wanted for so long. You feel an utter joy, finally, the feeling that has been void within you since a time you can't seem to remember filled.
And like a fragile soap bubble floating meticulously in the summer breeze, it pops, disappears, vanishes forever as you open your eyes and find yourself alone in bed. Is life such a cruel temptress, one who teases you with the one thing you desire, just to make it vanish as if it never happened? Or does she take pity in our souls and grants us a vision of what could've been or still might be?
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Risks
"To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing"
-Leo Buscaglia
-Leo Buscaglia
Monday, September 20, 2010
Quotes from "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle"
A few quotes that I jotted down as I read "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle" by Haruki Murakami.
"I realize full well how hard it must be to go on living alone in a place from which someone has left you, but there is nothing so cruel in this world as the desolation of having nothing to hope for."
"To know one’s own state is not a simple matter. One cannot look directly at one’s own face with one’s own eyes, for example. One has no choice but to look at one’s reflection in the mirror. Through experience, we come to believe that the image is correct, but that is all."
"In this world, there are things you can only do alone, and things you can only do with someone else. It's important to combine the two in just the right amount."
"He inherited from his mother's stories the fundamental style he used, unaltered, in his own stories: namely, the assumption that fact may not be truth, and truth may not be factual."
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
HuMaN Nature
Infinite silence.
Eternal darkness.
Yet time is moving at an incredible pace.
I have no direct control of when time will stop or how exactly I will depart, that is for the Higher to decide. My existence is flawed, yet I was created to be a beacon of perfection. When I am assigned a form to fill, a new objective is required of me.
Destroying.
Liberating.
Loving.
Hating.
Loving.
Hating.
Creating.
Ruling and destroying yet again.
Bound by shackles that confine any sort of freedom, I sit and wait, in my traveling bubble, transcending space and time. Restricted to live in isolation until my duties are called upon. My glass palace (for I cannot call it a prison) floats through nebulas, galaxies, systems and the infinite vacant. I've seen stars die and new ones created. Creation and destruction of planets...
The Highers see what I see, and this pleases them. My freedom never stripped away, because I've not known freedom since my creation. I live but do not breathe, for I am not created like every other man. For man is born, and then he is formed. I am the former, the molder, the creator of such things. I am the voice in their heads that tells them to do this, but not that.
I have been in control by the Highers forever and every mission that I was expected to complete I did. I've been the words of warring tribes, disheartened citizens and bloodthirsty warriors. I've been the tenacity of leaders and the grandeur of rulers. I've been the kisses and quarrels of lovers. I've been the opposite of that which is good, and that which is evil.
I...am not flawed. I am perfection. Floating onward, inward and outward through the naval of the universe, I am about to be born again, but as a savior or destroyer?
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Absolution (Post #2)
Continued from Part 1
...
There was a whisper in the wind, from behind the bars and underneath the door that said a man called the Monarch was looking for a few good men to accompany him on an expedition across the seas. It was supposed to be kept a secret, hidden away so the officials wouldn't get suspicious about a stranger taking citizens of the city on a trip towards imminent death. Only a few knew, most likely people who were associated with the Monarch himself. Of course I would think it obvious that he knew it would be hard to find anyone who would want to venture out into the free seas, to see a world unlike any other. Most of the people are quite content with sitting behind their desks, working from dusk till dawn and sitting in front of their television until it is time to sleep.
I'm not one of those people, not anymore. I cannot stand the drab dreary excuse of a life that I am standing in any longer. Tonight I will go seek out the Monarch and escape the pitiless backwater of endless monotony. It is the willpower and courage that I have built up for so many years that will help me break away from these chains.
I am to meet a contact at the bar Fisherman's Horizon, down by the docks, near the anchorage. Getting to my destination however might prove to be difficult. Believe it when I say that there are very few people who roam the streets at night. Mostly workers going home from a late shift, or people with a sense of shadiness about them, stalking the corners away from the lampposts. There was an armed guard at every crossroad, whether it be for protection or fear I do not know, both seem like plausible explanations.
Heavy clouds covered the city tonight, a thick fluffy soup of pollution and ocean water whirled in the sky above. It was never a wise choice to go traversing about the streets when it was raining out, especially with such filthy water dropping from the upper atmosphere. The rain wasn't coming down very hard tonight, a mixture of mist and light fall splattering the stone cobbles of the streets. I am wearing a hooded raincoat that covers my head to about my mid thigh, a trusty piece of equipment when I had to go home after a late night working in the coal mines of the Southern District. There is no love attached to my profession, and I will not miss the sulfur infused caves one bit. My lungs, already poisoned by inhaling sulfur for five years has had enough, and so did I. I am ready to take in the freshest of air, swim in the cleanest of waters and live the life of an adventurer at sea. First I must find my way to the Fisherman's Horizon.
With my backpack filled with canned foods, a flask of whiskey and official papers identifying me as who I am, I was ready to leave this place forever. With my backpack under my raincoat I tip-toe to the corner of the street that I grew up on my whole life. Street number 145 of 520, the same looking street as the next one hundred. Each house, each front lawn and the fences that separated them the same as the next, for as far as the eye can see. Nothing standing out of the ordinary but myself, huddled under a tree behind the corner lamp post, ready to make my escape out of this world and into the next. The pier where the bar was located was about a mile west of where I lived. All I had to do was follow street #140 until I hit the Naval Academy building, then sneak my way around and make myself towards the pier.
Half way there and I was surprised at the ease that it took to get as far as I did. The armed guards were sparse tonight, only one on every third or fourth crossroad. Perhaps the weather kept some of them inside instead, sipping on tea and looking out from a window inside a cozy home. The enforcement of the city wasn't very strictly coordinated. The officers would do as they wished, so long as the job was done. Nothing stopped an officer from patrolling the corners so long as he had his eyes on it. Whether that meant pacing the streets back and forth, or entering the home of a stranger and sitting by their front window as the rain continued to pitter-patter on the pavement. I was also being very careful with my steps, creeping quickly from one corner to the next, my feet gliding ever so softly across the silk water covered streets. My backpack kept tight and my raincoat flowing with the grace of my body made me appear as an apparition in the night, not exactly certain whether what you saw was really there or not. I felt a surge of excitement and relief the closer I got to my destination, but I was quickly brought back to a fearful reality when I felt a poke on my shoulder and a voice from behind me.
...
There was a whisper in the wind, from behind the bars and underneath the door that said a man called the Monarch was looking for a few good men to accompany him on an expedition across the seas. It was supposed to be kept a secret, hidden away so the officials wouldn't get suspicious about a stranger taking citizens of the city on a trip towards imminent death. Only a few knew, most likely people who were associated with the Monarch himself. Of course I would think it obvious that he knew it would be hard to find anyone who would want to venture out into the free seas, to see a world unlike any other. Most of the people are quite content with sitting behind their desks, working from dusk till dawn and sitting in front of their television until it is time to sleep.
I'm not one of those people, not anymore. I cannot stand the drab dreary excuse of a life that I am standing in any longer. Tonight I will go seek out the Monarch and escape the pitiless backwater of endless monotony. It is the willpower and courage that I have built up for so many years that will help me break away from these chains.
I am to meet a contact at the bar Fisherman's Horizon, down by the docks, near the anchorage. Getting to my destination however might prove to be difficult. Believe it when I say that there are very few people who roam the streets at night. Mostly workers going home from a late shift, or people with a sense of shadiness about them, stalking the corners away from the lampposts. There was an armed guard at every crossroad, whether it be for protection or fear I do not know, both seem like plausible explanations.
Heavy clouds covered the city tonight, a thick fluffy soup of pollution and ocean water whirled in the sky above. It was never a wise choice to go traversing about the streets when it was raining out, especially with such filthy water dropping from the upper atmosphere. The rain wasn't coming down very hard tonight, a mixture of mist and light fall splattering the stone cobbles of the streets. I am wearing a hooded raincoat that covers my head to about my mid thigh, a trusty piece of equipment when I had to go home after a late night working in the coal mines of the Southern District. There is no love attached to my profession, and I will not miss the sulfur infused caves one bit. My lungs, already poisoned by inhaling sulfur for five years has had enough, and so did I. I am ready to take in the freshest of air, swim in the cleanest of waters and live the life of an adventurer at sea. First I must find my way to the Fisherman's Horizon.
With my backpack filled with canned foods, a flask of whiskey and official papers identifying me as who I am, I was ready to leave this place forever. With my backpack under my raincoat I tip-toe to the corner of the street that I grew up on my whole life. Street number 145 of 520, the same looking street as the next one hundred. Each house, each front lawn and the fences that separated them the same as the next, for as far as the eye can see. Nothing standing out of the ordinary but myself, huddled under a tree behind the corner lamp post, ready to make my escape out of this world and into the next. The pier where the bar was located was about a mile west of where I lived. All I had to do was follow street #140 until I hit the Naval Academy building, then sneak my way around and make myself towards the pier.
Half way there and I was surprised at the ease that it took to get as far as I did. The armed guards were sparse tonight, only one on every third or fourth crossroad. Perhaps the weather kept some of them inside instead, sipping on tea and looking out from a window inside a cozy home. The enforcement of the city wasn't very strictly coordinated. The officers would do as they wished, so long as the job was done. Nothing stopped an officer from patrolling the corners so long as he had his eyes on it. Whether that meant pacing the streets back and forth, or entering the home of a stranger and sitting by their front window as the rain continued to pitter-patter on the pavement. I was also being very careful with my steps, creeping quickly from one corner to the next, my feet gliding ever so softly across the silk water covered streets. My backpack kept tight and my raincoat flowing with the grace of my body made me appear as an apparition in the night, not exactly certain whether what you saw was really there or not. I felt a surge of excitement and relief the closer I got to my destination, but I was quickly brought back to a fearful reality when I felt a poke on my shoulder and a voice from behind me.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Chances
Why do people never want to see the world through your eyes? Is it a torturous endeavor that is filled with horrors and hopelessness? Sure, there are times when people converse about their feelings, their ideas and opinions but where has that lead us? Political conflicts, clashing races and a 50% divorce rate. Is it the irrepressible voice of our egos that reminds us to listen to what people have to say, but ultimately do what your head is telling you, because who else can you trust but yourself?
And why has the social game changed so much? Everyone is dealt three cards, three chances to really show the other player who you really are. Sometimes you'll get lucky and pick up a card that gives you more opportunities to show yourself in the best light, show who you really are so the other player can reciprocate a shared emotion. The stakes are high and you seem like you really hit the mark with this person, and everything is going well. But this is a game right, nothing is what it seems. Not until something out of your realm of control appears and screws everything up. It's that one card in the deck, that if you draw, you automatically lose. You don't know why, and you curse at the fact, but rules are rules, and unfortunately you drew the card that ends it all.
Now in the social game, don't you think you can solve such problems with strong effective conversation between two people? I think you can, but the way this works out can be very different, and here you are proposed with yet another dilemma. How will this mending process take form? How can you prevent yourself from messing up more than you already have, or in another case, how can you show that other person how you really feel in order to win back their initial favor? It's a whole new game with a whole new set of rules.
In the end, it's up to the two people to work things out, hopefully for the better. Whether that takes days, weeks or even months, it's a decision they both have to make, without the worries of bluffing one another. I hope I can mend some of my mistakes, and I hope there are some people out there that will see through my eyes, and witness happiness and fulfillment. You can't win them all, but you can try your best every time.
And why has the social game changed so much? Everyone is dealt three cards, three chances to really show the other player who you really are. Sometimes you'll get lucky and pick up a card that gives you more opportunities to show yourself in the best light, show who you really are so the other player can reciprocate a shared emotion. The stakes are high and you seem like you really hit the mark with this person, and everything is going well. But this is a game right, nothing is what it seems. Not until something out of your realm of control appears and screws everything up. It's that one card in the deck, that if you draw, you automatically lose. You don't know why, and you curse at the fact, but rules are rules, and unfortunately you drew the card that ends it all.
Now in the social game, don't you think you can solve such problems with strong effective conversation between two people? I think you can, but the way this works out can be very different, and here you are proposed with yet another dilemma. How will this mending process take form? How can you prevent yourself from messing up more than you already have, or in another case, how can you show that other person how you really feel in order to win back their initial favor? It's a whole new game with a whole new set of rules.
In the end, it's up to the two people to work things out, hopefully for the better. Whether that takes days, weeks or even months, it's a decision they both have to make, without the worries of bluffing one another. I hope I can mend some of my mistakes, and I hope there are some people out there that will see through my eyes, and witness happiness and fulfillment. You can't win them all, but you can try your best every time.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Absolution (Post #1)
For fifteen years I have wanted to travel the seas, to marvel at the beauty of the vast blue emptiness. To feel the mist, to breathe the cleanest air, to open my mind and body to a world that defines the freedom of nature. I've wanted to ride the waves on a majestic white ship and sail for days and days with no destination. The water would be the bed I slept on, the road I traveled with and the wind my guiding direction. My tethers would be cut and I would be unraveled from any worry or responsibility.
Instead for the past twenty years I've been land ridden, to live in the filth of a dirty city, inhaling the never-ending smog of corruption and glutton. Chained to the desk, only able to imagine the world outside my deadpan window. People tell me to learn to love the city for that is where I am destined to spend my life. Have they been brainwashed to accept the perception of this city as something more than a prison, a tomb? I see the truth, the single ray of light cutting through the heavy clouds, shining down at the sea as the only exit to a new life.
Ever since I was born, the city was black and gritty. Corruptive politics and law breakers owned the city, controlling the essence of the market, forcing many people to work horrible jobs for a meager life. Those lucky enough to be born in the higher caste lived a false life of fame and fortune, but only at the price of despicable greed. I was told a long time ago, the city used to be much different than it is today. I was told to believe that the sun shined through the smog, that people had smiles on their faces. Is this believable?
If I was a painter I would paint this city all sorts of shades of gray, with shadows occupying most of the canvas. There would be no trees, no animals, no real sign of life at all, just a bleak gray brick wall, preventing those with aspiration and dreams to keep them hidden inside, until the wall broke apart.
Is there no room for the inspired, for the creative and the bold in this world? I refuse to believe that such concepts exist, and that my chained existence must be broken free. Those individuals who have built the ships that sail the seas, did they realize the barrier of absolution they would break? Is it possible to separate that which I have fallen upon to that which I long to fly to? I must escape the tyranny that befalls the weak-minded and corrupt, and find my place in the world that bestows the chance to explore my passions and zealous nature.
To be continued...
Instead for the past twenty years I've been land ridden, to live in the filth of a dirty city, inhaling the never-ending smog of corruption and glutton. Chained to the desk, only able to imagine the world outside my deadpan window. People tell me to learn to love the city for that is where I am destined to spend my life. Have they been brainwashed to accept the perception of this city as something more than a prison, a tomb? I see the truth, the single ray of light cutting through the heavy clouds, shining down at the sea as the only exit to a new life.
Ever since I was born, the city was black and gritty. Corruptive politics and law breakers owned the city, controlling the essence of the market, forcing many people to work horrible jobs for a meager life. Those lucky enough to be born in the higher caste lived a false life of fame and fortune, but only at the price of despicable greed. I was told a long time ago, the city used to be much different than it is today. I was told to believe that the sun shined through the smog, that people had smiles on their faces. Is this believable?
If I was a painter I would paint this city all sorts of shades of gray, with shadows occupying most of the canvas. There would be no trees, no animals, no real sign of life at all, just a bleak gray brick wall, preventing those with aspiration and dreams to keep them hidden inside, until the wall broke apart.
Is there no room for the inspired, for the creative and the bold in this world? I refuse to believe that such concepts exist, and that my chained existence must be broken free. Those individuals who have built the ships that sail the seas, did they realize the barrier of absolution they would break? Is it possible to separate that which I have fallen upon to that which I long to fly to? I must escape the tyranny that befalls the weak-minded and corrupt, and find my place in the world that bestows the chance to explore my passions and zealous nature.
To be continued...
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Patience
Do you stare down the mind's eye?
Why does excitement of the seed wither soil
but patience sprouts an oak?
It is best to sit behind the curtain
and watch the sun unravel through the veil,
because the light that you are not ready to see
can be the end of a life that was meant to be.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Stuck In Between Two
Two are one, both know not
One does good, the other doth corrupt
Hand mends hearts, hand pulls strings
When one departs, the other sings
Ace of Hearts, King of Queens
Hand reaches out, hand reaches in
One stays devout, the other brings sin
And the mind does not know the difference within.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Opening Newly Discovered Doors
This post is in response to a post written by Katie W. found here called "The More Your Learn, the Less You Know".
In her post, she discusses the fact that as soon as you think you know something, there is another piece of the puzzle that unfolds which reveals more questions than answers.
"It is as if learning one new fact or one new idea or a new point of view just opens up a world of unexplored territory and other possibilities."
It's amazing to think that such a personal quest for the truth only brings us more questions to seek the answer too. But hasn't this been the case since the beginning of man? If it wasn't for Aristotle's curiosity to learn more about the human anatomy, where would medicine and surgery be today? If it wasn't for Da Vinci's fascination in machinations would the industrial revolution been so different?
Everyone searches for answers, and the fascination of such curiosity opens up new doors to things that seemed solved and complete. Such is the way of life, and it could be said that the way Katie feels, is the way humans have been feeling since the Stone Age. It is an experience I can say I have had the chance of encountering as well. It is an event in our lives that makes us stronger for the future.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Trying to Find Something That's There
Everywhere you go, everything you see and everyone you meet impacts the way you live. Being able to absorb all of this sensory information is something our brain does very well. Whether what we see or do is important to us, is determined by the impact on what it has on ourselves.
If everything is out there for the taking, why do we continue to search for what is in front of us? It is a blessing (as well as a curse) that we are given the ability to distinguish things, and be able to choose what we believe is best for us. However there are many times where the choices that are given to us are too great, and because of such over-saturation, people are prone to becoming lost and confused.
If I wanted to go grab a bite to eat, within the same mile I have ten different choices. It depends on what I'm in the mood for and how much I am willing to spend on a specific meal that is whetting my appetite.
Choices like these can be fairly simple, but when there is a man or woman that you want to become a part of your life, whether they be a trustworthy friend, someone you share your love and passion with, or the rest of your life, these choices are the ones that test our sense of personal intuition.
There are millions of people in the world, and I'm not saying that there is the one and only perfect person for you in that group. There may be in fact hundreds of people that are perfect for you, but we do not get a chance to get to know everyone last one of them and choose which is best. It is the deep-seeded trust in our intuition that helps us choose that one special person that seems the best fit for us.
The same can be said about friends, jobs, faith, interests and so much more. It can be hard trying to find something that's there, but we are all on the same team, trying to find the things that make us happy.
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