The Dying

Have you died as of late? You should. Experience it. The Dying. It'll make you fly...

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Skeletons

"The dreams of better places decimate my view.
The weight of your embraces remind the world of you.
Outside the world's opposing, attempting to decree.
With allies decomposing the future that could be.

I have let the dream escape,
A sunken mass of things erased,
A list of names to leave behind,
A wound to heal that I'll create.

The message failed to translate,
The answers failing to convey,
The fiery truth and reason why the world I live in ends this way."

~ Benn Jordan (a.k.a. The Flashbulb)

Great Pumpkin Waltz

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Short Story - King of the Hill

An attempt at writing a short story. I started writing it long ago, abandoned it, and then completed it recently.  I am not personally satisfied by it, but then again, I am never satisfied by anything I do. Please excuse the over-cheesiness of this story.

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There once was a young woman who lived on top of a hill. She lived alone, with no one around for miles and miles, and she never made a sound. The hill was green with grass all over, and, on days when your sense of reality wasn’t particularly strong, you could see a castle over the hill, and a small cottage down below.  The legend said that one cannot see the castle or the house if the young woman was on the hill. The legend also said that she was always on the hill, and so nobody went there, because they thought it was haunted.

Yet he was able to see her.

He was a young man, still in his twenties. Upon looking at him, one wouldn’t notice anything special. He was a very normal-looking fellow, but minute traces of misery could always be observed on his face… as if he were punishing himself for a sin that he was yet to commit.

On quiet evenings, he’d go for a walk outside. And, since he lived alone, all of his evenings were quiet. He was eternally silent, forever contemplating. On a cool summer night, he decided to take a walk through the night, and then sit down to watch the sun rise at the end of his walk. As a child, he had always wanted to walk towards the sun, and, perhaps, maybe even reach it someday. And so, as soon as the night drew its blanket over the world, he set out on his journey, with only his silence and humbleness to protect him. Although he couldn’t see anything, he felt the presence of many a soul that night.

He marched through the darkness, with the occasional cool breeze flying through his hair every now and then, refreshing him. A few hours later, the silence was broken by the sound of birds chirping, right along with sunrise. The sun was just peeping shyly over the horizon; rising slowly, as if it were lifting itself up with such a great effort as there ever was. Its crisp, golden rays were gently caressing the Earth’s surface, spreading the warmth and hope simultaneously, and giving rise to life.

By that time, our friend had drifted away from his small town and off every road known to man, and he found himself treading along in a beautiful green meadow. On that day, he didn’t care about the sun rising nor the darkness disappearing. He had spotted, out of the corner of his eye, a hill at one of the farther ends of the meadow, breaking the infinite horizon. Slowly, he approached that hill, interested in seeing what he would find there. If only he had known…

He saw her. For an indefinite moment of indescribable depth, they stared into each other’s eyes; lost in each other’s wonder. For a moment, they imagined the infinite possibilities they could become together. He walked towards her and sat down next to her, and they lied on their backs, staring at the open sky. They smiled at each other as they painted the endless skies. They became moons and clouds and flying things. They floated with their imaginations into each other.

Together, they built their kingdom out of light and sound. She was a princess, he was a prince. They were not related by blood, but the bond between their selves was something never before known to man… unparalleled. They built their kingdom above the hill and all around – out of light and sound. Their kingdom existed, but it wasn’t real, and so nobody could ever discover it or ruin it. They spent their days lying on the side of the hill, looking at the meadow from which he had come. With their heads touching, they continued expanding their kingdom and isolating themselves from the world. They sat there in silence, imagining what could be. They gave each other thoughts and smiles.

Not a single word was uttered between them. The holy silence was never broken. It was beautiful.

Then, one day, on an early morning, they decided to walk down the other side of the hill, towards the rising sun. They departed, holding hands.

Poetry.

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Mapping Emotions, Hobbits, and Me

1) Ed Fairburn enjoys mapping emotions, (almost) literally. I like the idea. Now you can apply poetic descriptions to actual maps, such as when one says, "Her eyes are an infinite sea of regret and doubt." You can now have an actual sea as her eyes.

2) On a slightly related note, here's some Hobbit art, by J.R.R. Tolkien. Tolkien drew and painted more than 100 different illustrations for The Hobbit himself, and they were only recently discovered (right before the book's 75th anniversary). A book with the complete illustrations is available on Amazon. I'm waiting patiently for the film... :)

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3) The reason I am miserable right now is because, up to this point in my life, I haven't done anything useful. I have been living passively, producing little to nothing everyday, and feeling incomplete. I'm still waiting for the idea that will be the focus of my life. I want to leave something for others after I depart... something to change points of view fundamentally. I want to meet my idea.

Lingering in my head...

These are a few ideas, lines and thoughts lingering in my head, and I desperately needed to get them out...

- The underwhelming urge of forever,
Of finding infinity by the river;
A rose growing next to a flower,
A light glowing from its giver.

(Music and poetry are forever.)

- It is a song... a song of Chinese teapots and Bengal tigers; a song of lost wars and departed fighters, a song of the time when everything was better... but such a time never really was.

- They condemned me. To life.

- What is justice? Justice is, in a way, the carrying out of righteous vengeance upon those who have sinned. But is that true justice? I'd say no. In my mind, true justice is when there is no need for vengeance, because nobody wrongs anybody else. In a way, justice is most useful when we need it the least, and the reverse is also true. In a way. I think.

- Go out today and get inspired.

- My grandfather has one of the best talents ever... a talent for appreciating. I do not mean appreciating as in being thankful for what he has (although he is that), but what I do mean is that he is able to appreciate all kinds of inspiration that are around him... he stands in awe of the magnificence of everything.

- The idea of choice, to me, is one of the greatest ideas that prove, to me, the existence of a creator. We cannot imagine a life without the idea of choice. We cannot, and do not, choose choice. We can choose or refuse to choose anything in life, but the refusal itself is a choice. Man could not have created this idea, because we are incapable of true creation. We are only able to continue from one step to the other, and can only hope to jump when we make unexpected connections.

- Our lives are collapsing probabilities. There is an infinite number of universes with infinite copies of you, but each and every one is different because of their choices. However, I'd say that not all of them are alive. Only you are truly alive, and based on each choice you make in this life, all of the other different possible outcomes based on your choice are collapsed. They are no longer probable. We keep collapsing probabilities of events until we reach a probability of one... then comes death.

- (We do not choose choice and can't imagine living without it. We do not choose death, and cannot imagine living without it. Yet, death is not a choice.)

- If we were able to travel freely in the fourth dimension, we'd be able to see a literal timeline of everyone's life. Similarly, we could see a timeline of the life of the universe. Now, is there anything to prevent our universe's timeline from intersecting with that of another universe? I'm not sure, but I'm really interested in the thought. Maybe it happened. Maybe it will. Maybe it won't. But the idea of it is just enthralling.

- (I just wanted you to know. You don't need to do anything about it or even react. You are now free to fly.)

- ...and so we spin and dance together, forever.