Why land?

To add . . .

. . . memories of nightmares and delusions of the imagination haunt me from time to time. One of them I realize now resembles a character I plan to place within my Fantasy story that has yet to be written "Where Ends Meet." A character disgarded from the moment of his existance speaks in a terribly fast tongue, providing a surplus of information within seconds to await a simple response. If the relatively correct response was given, then you would be rewarded in his own manner. As he coughs his mouth open as wide as it will go, they peer beyond the hinges of his Jaw, and from benieth the shadow of his teeth and lips cast, another mouth, bigger than the last, opens up. However, the row of teth part sideways. Not noticed at first, this row of teeth looks slightly sharper than the initial set seen. A thied mouth opens as the second flushes open. With each new mouth approaching at a static angle towards the winner, its range spreads about as wide to one's form just as quickly a metal ball submerges under water. Beautiful but terrible in its own right, a hundred mouths unhinged, opening and welcome appears to be receeding when in turn, something is being eaten within that instant. It surely isn't the looser.

A pair of eyes, younger than mine and not as far separated, stare back at me once I am awake with both eyes closed. Even if it is for a moment to blink, they stare, wide-eyed. And then the hand which covers my sight as soon as I turn that second too late. After the moment of darkness, the rest is left to the worry of the unknown in that case.

Silly imagination.

Feeling Phased Out

I live. Like any other human being who as much produces a thought, I live. I walk and breath as canines do at times while during others, I am as still as a tree stands tall. I look to produce an air of awe as a marvel and pretense of devistation to wake others still dreaming and allow those who long to see, see. I intently contribute to life not for the persuit of gratitude and favors, but for the preservation of others. And through helping hands and caring embrases, I live for, by and through others. Yet, I feel that something is breaking me down from corners that may appear unintentional that can be vital to my survival. Although distance changes relationships of all sorts, I feel that my concern has roped me around all four limbs and neck to strain me more. A portable catalyst of contact is one thing but having the time to respond to those requiring your attention appears to take more now adays than I can muster. The bonds which have joined me appear to be separating, showing either how dependant I am upon the kindness of others or how I am to forge my own support that I believe will ultimately lead to bitterness within my self sustained solitary confinement within society.

A heart cannot be mended time again and expect to be healed. A mind cannot be bent without a limit in mind because it overwhelms. A body cannot outwear itself beyond the mind's recognition without reprocutions to follow. A soul cannot separate the self soley for the sake of others always, later deeming it hollow.

"I am melting, melting. Oh what a world, what a world." As I recall those last words from the older film titled "The Wizard of Oz", I recall the last words of grief in which the wicked witch of the west cried upon her liquid-like descent into damnation. Although no one sees it, the world must have nurtered her to play the part of the antagonist, fueling a cause to weed out those who supposedly plague others who please the nature of surroundings. Yet in truth, neglect must have been about the guidance and formation of her judgement for her to conclusively curse the world during her death. Imagine, a lonely woman who is comforted by an erie mirror (if I recall correctly) and a herd of winged monkeys. That could be a pretty lonely woman indeed. And a view of what appeared pure and adored in the moment of Dorothy's appearance could have reminded her of what was once hers, what was once precious to her possession until fait wrought her of such possessions or the opportunity to obtain the likes.

If anyone else portrayed in the light of the protagonist were to utter their last words as they were forced to flee from the world of the living, how often are some taken into thought. Maybe "Best Death...EVER" might have taken a comedic stand towards this since the Simpsons show depicts a certain degree of graphic violence allowed to be displayed by the network they've been running on for over twenty years. But what if you were driven to play the mad cow, spreading a plague that would turn dogs wild with rabies, drive floods of field rats (not mice, rats) across streets in a crazed run for what we do not know, and turn man's method of thought into madness while submitting to these ills and more without control over it? What circumstances would drive one to play the antagonist? Is the protagonist truely righteous in every light, often depicted of depriving the villian of their life as the final judgement? With so many, not particularly closed minded but, centered on their reason to push forth what they precieve as (dair I use the word) "evils" off of the end of the earth, who's to say that we are not villians in the light of our victims? Who is to say that we are not mimicing the devil's traits as we see outselves continually trying to play God out in many, if not all, aspects? With the condition of affairs about the world, what type of individuals are we forming within the relationships meant to be cohesive between allied countries? I would ask what became of common sense, however such a term I have seen is defined as "intelligence" and to believe that there are some that doubt a hint of intelligence (to those that can help it) would be to lose hope in the self, merely separated by nearly countless years of growth from a single construct (of this I have to explain).

Yet still I ask, what sort of people are we bringing into this world, a world that seemingly selects who is worthy of treatment for sickness and who is worthy to recieve death not by natural causes? With the very ills pleaguing most of the earth's population (from what I can assume) as well as life of other species, what kind of man do we beed? What kind of woman do we breathe? What color of blood do we all bleed? When recieved, are we left with a choice to not believe?

As I feel many ills pouring about me from the concern of others, what type of person will I become? Bitter and contemplative as I appear to be as of late, giving into self interest, or one who will not only learn to cope and then solve such matters, but also help others get pass worse than I can imagine dealing with?

I know that there is more than black and white to this picture. However the line which separates them is not only blurred but it distorts with the amount of space this unwanted lack of focus causes. Maybe I know to a point where I supress the notion to influence myself towards what I look to become or, as many quotes have thrown from those who seek to only view the throne, "Heaven only knows".

Sanctity in Madness

Detached from logical choices,
I long to explore but ask "What for?"
Closing my eyes to shut the door,
What is left of me is lowered.

Lower and lower to spring forth
We dive south, not north. I meant "I".
Subject to the whim of the abyss
Of which I plummet, I plunder
What has driven me to toss us...
My soul possession asunder like
A thunder quick to lightning's haste?

This no longer taste of a heart's pace
Quicken when hit with fever's face.
The bottomless pit? They've lied
For two individuals who have just
Recently died during the duo's descent
We returned to the understanding.

The body would be liberated as
The soul suspect would be tormented.
There was no expectation of
Our cooperation being that inventive.

Coping with my new found guilt
An off set smile grew across expressions,
Even in light of the consequences.
Windows to the soul told not of
The man that use to be, momentarily
But of a child, scared for life.

With the knife now removed from my back,
The youth went to play, to live as seen fit.
For as lively of a child it was
It lived no longer than I allowed it.
The original agreement was put into play
For no longer could I remain.
Our vessels were no longer
Bleeding hearts encased in flesh and bone
Wrought by our own doing, no, the youths.

Yet I have lost sight of why we don't
Part ways as planned.
The youth returns for another lesson
As I have, in truth, continued to fall.

I guess that they were right after all.

Retracing footsteps to Pave a new Path

There is quite abit in mind as of late. Sadly I cannot capture all of the freely flowing thoughts and imprison them to text forged by either my hand or machine.

Previously on

Many a new things I see myself in need of, as well as desire. Such things like a new cell phone and laptop would eliminate many inconviniences between the two divices. Aside from the fact that my Bike is close to a decade old and in need of abit of work about the lot of it's make-up, a new bike may do me good, but can't I just fare with a bicycle who's seat is easily prone to fall either forward or backward, leaving me to lose focus of my steering and awareness of the balance that I am suppose to keep while riding? A new stereo would do me good since I'm only looking for something that plays the radio and CDs like alot of stereos that people own. Mine barely reads CDs well [possibly due to my neglect for maintenance] and it's trouble and wasted time to get the blasted radio working alot. New PC speakers may help but since mine work reasonably well, I see no need for now.

Possessed by [the desire/need for] Possessions [in regards to material things] I sadly am.

A new job with a stable day schedule would help, providing that it is aclimated to my school schedule, which is not that demanding, and hoping that I am capable of keeping up with its requirements. Until I see evidence of change and/or improvement in my person overall, I cannot help but have doubt. But as long as I chose to try, I cannot help but have faith.

To Begin A New

There are many things that I am sincere about researching. Politics, sociology, psychology, physical health, Food's effect on one's mentality, philosophy, religion(s), animal behavior, literature, job opportunities, heirarchy, middle class and poverty in regards to the corrilation of how one contributes to another, foreign languages and most of all art are on my list of aims. Yet I fear that, with my attention divided, I am not driven enough to dedicate myself wholey to any one. Therefore, I have to, soon if not eventually, break down a plan of action of how I am to approach this. Surely I invision a wife and 2-3 kids idealy, but what am I without a connection to a world of people I do not know? Isolated, a stranger, a potential enemy, a potential friend who is too apeasing for his own good, a drone, a potential yes man and just about everything else meant to please only the self. Doing for the self assures a lack of support when the whole of man, outside of the family, can contribute to aliviating one's woes in a time of need. However, doing only for others hints neglect for the care of the self.

Not on Deaf Ears

If anything, please let me not grow into a self-loathing selfish individual. Let me not be greedy. Let my expressions not be overzealous. Let my mind conjure ill thoughts of no living being. Along with the other request that are thought to come, please, let me not be so dependant to await a blessing's arrival while not placing any effort to obtain it myself as well as keep me knowledgable of when to do on my own and when to ask others who I know can offer a hand in need. Because pride lies in my stride as defeat beseaches my manner of speech. I feel broken, attempting to mend my own bones and heal my own bruises.

Waking with the rise of the sun may contribute to thought better than arising in the dead of night.