Saturday, August 27, 2011

A Bard and A Prophet ~ Chapter 1

There is a season in which the spirits within man have awaken to the truth and must fight and live and love and die. Wise eyes open without experience, and though blind, they walk a sure road. Always, in every season, there are those who are called and answer. To usher the season that the world has never seen. Though every era must end. There must be a last, and only a remnant will carry the truth to its last.

There lived a man that desired what every man desires, yet most never know. Though he saw more than most, he saw only enough to know that he was blind. The truth that always accompanied him let him see the marionettes around him, though first the puppet he was. Therefore, his actions were silent, and his hope lay dormant as a bear through the winter.

Whispers of his destiny danced around him, teasing him with that which his blood carries, educating him the play he lives in, so he may pull the sharpened rapier to the battle scene. He knew, and yet he was blind. His hope, though alive remained hidden from him.

On the summer breeze, swirling amongst a most sincere act, the truth ignited the wick of his heart. A pure knowledge without understanding was planted, and on the same wind came the song. The song that proceeded its prophesy. Though the meeting was brief, the resignation carried on for many months. In desperation for the truth, hope hid, and a prophet died.



If you can divine the full meaning of my words, I would like to talk to you, for you have deeply interested me. Though, I believe that there are very few people that could. What would amaze me even more is if the characters of this story could identify themselves. Especially in the chapters that they seem not to be mentioned. Though there is still much to be divined no matter how well one knows the story.

The characters in this chapter.

The prophet

The marionettes

The starry child

The ancestor

The sincere actor

The bard

and The murderer

Think of it as a riddle.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Dream 11/17/2010

I woke up on a grassy field with some retamians. I was drunk the night before but couldn't remember a thing. Apparently, the guy I woke up next to, I had sex with the night before while drunk. So I freak out a little.
~
Then, Will gets all demon possessed and puts white paint on a bunch of people covering their face, hands and feet. So, we end up chasing him. I chase him into a ten story high school. The high school is really maze like, and I get lost. At one point I end up in the library and am able to find my way from there. Finally we exit the building through some sort of deeply sunken back door. I am with a few retamians again and we have caught up with demon Will. I rebuke the demon inside him, which leaves instantly. Unfortunately, the moment the demon leaves, Will's body crumbles into nothing and his spirit and soul, which are still alive, sink into a patch of dirt. I then pray, mark the patch of dirt then breath on it. I pray again. As I am praying, a body rises from the dirt fully clothed. Will is inside this body, and it is now him. The body, however, is much different than what he previously had. It was smaller, skinnier and more lanky. He had a skinny face with a small chin all covered in freckles and long richly colored orangeish reddish brown hair.
~
The Dream moves on. I am in the same metropolis that the high school skyscraper was located. For some reason the city is quickly flooding. I run up the stairs of a tall building onto the roof. from there, I jump from building to building until I reach a building with tall bleachers on the top with lots of people their taking refuge. They seem to feel safe there, for what flood would cover a twenty plus story building? right? After I scramble to the top of the bleachers, I look around to consider my options. The water level is already more than half way up the build i am on, which means there is no guarantee that this place is safe. Too one side I consider the tallest building in the city. It is the tallest point, and if any place is going to be above the water, it would be that building. If i went there, I would be stranded in that one building. If this ended up being a long term thing, i might have trouble with food. To the other side, at the edge of the city, is a ridge with a few architecturally detailed stone buildings on top of it. Though well above the tops of most of the buildings, it is not quite as tall as the skyscraper. I decide to go there since more available buildings meant more chance of available food, so I jump from building top to building top and arrive at the location of my next dream.
~
I am at a large stone house with a big courtyard. i am staying with my master there in the guest house. In the dream I often analogize us to the main characters from Around the World in 80 Days. My master hands me an important contract to file. I hand the document to an inferior servant to file. While filing, an important man which is also staying at the house, approaches the servant, and tricks the servant into handing him the document. Suddenly, the man thinks that the contract is his and entitles him to all of my masters belongings. I rush to the owner of the house, who is an attorney, and tell him about my problem. The attorney sits in his office academically trying to calculate whether the contract rightfully belongs to the important man or not. Frustrated, I walk back out into the courtyard. There I see all of my master's belongings in boxes covering the courtyard. There are a bunch of people sorting and cataloging the materials. My master stays in his room, pretending not to care. One of the sorters sticks out to me. She goes through a door, and I follow. She is standing in a room with metal walls holding a clip board. To her left, against the wall, is a large alarm box full of switches and lights. The room as the feeling of being outside of time and space, kinda like the back doors in The Matrix. I tell her my problem. She looks at me, then the dream ends. Or this is how it went all the previous time I dreamt it.
This time the differences were as follows. My master is my grandfather. My character is identified as me specifically. The inferior servant is my little brother. After I leave the attorney's office, I don't just sit frustrated. Instead, i come to the obvious solution, that the contract wasn't Benjamin's to give away in the first place. The sorting girl is identifiable as Charity. She is wearing the pj's she was wearing the last time had visited her apartment. In the room, I not only tell her the problem, but the solution as well. Instead of just looking at me, she moves over to the alarm box and flips several of the switches triggering an alarm. The alarm seemed to call several people to the room. About half a dozen people. Two of them are a very young George Douglas and Ronald Regan well before their administration. they sit down in the room and start discussing. Ronald leads the discussion. First they discuss a flaw a poem written by a famous poet. They say that they will need to change the poem. One of them says, "do you know how many points in time we are going to have to influence to cover the change?" like it would be a big task. Ronald says, "It'll be just like that one time with the clock." Grandfather laughs and says "yes the clock" as if remembering some kind notable event or adventure. They move on to my issue eventually. I explain to them that I've been having this same dream a couple times a year for the past few years. (I don't remember having these dreams now that I'm awake. In my dream, I definitely remembered them, that is why I can now recite the original version) I also note to them that Charity wearing the pjs means the happenings in the dream are related to something in the very near future, or even now.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Prose ~What is the price of being who we are?~

Wouldn’t it be cool if we shed our self-imposed limits?
If all that we are could be released
We are locked by consequence
The fear of where who we are would lead
What it would destroy
What treasure it would throw from us
That is why we hide behind costumes and dance
The purest of us peaks shyly behind the veil of restraint
Only a piece may show, all else is a farce
Yet we are hungry
We are hungry for others to see ourselves and to truly know those that we love
We are hungry for the very thing we fight against.

Ripping away the costume left raw to what truly mattered
It is a wonder how little is left
Now to no longer live in self deception
But to search for an answer to the confusion
Yet the veil must remain
Or else risk what little is left.

If you wish to see what is behind the veil
Be prepared for what may be underneath
For every diamond is coated in the most repulsive refuse
Will truth create miles?
Or will it create strength
Will it drive to emptiness?
Or bring to life the deepest bonds of friendship.

If you wish to see who I am
I’ll leave the choice to you
Just don’t be surprised if you find yourself drifting away.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Heart Vomit, Written: July 17, 2009

I struggle now, though my struggle be lazy. I listen and look. I look for love. I wonder, who have I made me? Who has God made me? Loneliness, true loneliness, is the absence of love. I am lonely. It is not the loneliness of a single boy in his late teens. It is the loneliness of one who is meant to be surrounded and supported by his own kind but is not. All that surrounds me is a crowd of dolls with empty eyes. I realize that this is not their fault. It is mine. Those 'empty' eyes are only a reflection of my own emptiness. They are dolls because I turned them into dolls. Through my lies and manipulation, they became nothing but toys, detached and inhuman. Some say that i have built walls around me. It is not walls but moats. I have dug these moats so deep that when I am done, and I wish to get out, I find that I can't. All I need is someone to throw me a rope. i see people who know I am in trouble. They wish to help, but they don't understand. They are looking for walls, so that they can find a gate and open it, like they do with everyone else. Unfortunately, I am not enclosed by walls. I am trapped in a moat that i dug. The old helpers look hopeless, so I turn to fresh people. Through a global network i spill my heart. Does no one see? Do they not hear my plea in my words. They treat my words as creative writing. They praise it or critique it. It is not creativity! It is my heart! Yet all they do is goggle at me. The ones who knew me, without exception, rejected me. I have thrown them away. The ones who I know can't find me. The ones who meet me can't see me. Who am I?

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Poem ~I Love you because it's you~

I love your hair
If you shaved it all off, I’d still love you
I love your freckles
If you lost all your skin, I’d still love you
You are fun as hell
If you were in a coma, I’d still love you
I love your smile
If you hated me, I’d still love you
I love it when you are near
If you left this universe, I’d still love you
I love everything about you
Because you are always you, I’ll always love you

Friday, June 11, 2010

Prose ~What is Truly Important~

The priceless jewels are nothing but stones.
All the money in the world is nothing but numbers.
All that is, is only what value is taken from it.
No material holds value.
Life holds no value in itself.
It's value lays in what will be missed if life is lost.
The only value this life holds is in love.
Do we even know what love is anymore?
Love is more than a human concept.
It is more than how we treat each other.
It is more than the chemical reactions in regard to those around us.
No wonder people are loosing belief in love.
It is difficult to believe in something when one doesn't even know what it is.
Love is a tangible thing. It is the power that allows us to live. Love is the essence of life.
Love is also the medium for existence. Nothing can exist with out love.
Love is alive.
Love is not dependent on the laws of the universe.
Love is the only true law in this universe. All other constants are rooted in love.
The core of every human is made of love.

This is how a life can be nothing. In the absence of love, there is nothing.
That is why my life has nothing but the love that is in it.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Nother heart vomit ~You can have everything but what you want~

I should probably see a shrink
Oh no, Jony, you shouldn’t say that! Being mentally stable is part of your image. Showing any sign of instability will ruin that!
Well I don’t give a shit anymore.
A blank canvas, how nice, so much potential.
Works great when you don’t have any paint!
You could be rich and famous so easily. You can make plans to do anything, be anybody. You can have anything.
I can’t care anymore. There are only two things I care about anymore, and their names are Rexrode. The only real friends I have, or ever had for that matter. All else is materialistic crap.