She came to me as I disciplined my last breath in my chest. She came to me igniting a cataclysmic fire in my heart ripping apart everything I once knew about myself. She came to me possessing the same irrevocable compulsion so predominantly inscribed in my very veins that death itself payed the piper, relinquishing a cold shoulder. And in that same instant a paradoxical passion overwhelmed me as I was without regret or hesitation. She came to me; hope had came to me. What karma had I collected to conquer such calamity. My spent years lingering in dismal suspension as if to prepare me for my most excellent moment. And in this repentant sentiment my thoughts and actions transcended time and I lost all recollection of myself. It was black and cold when I awoke. Hope had left me, but not in the traditional sense for I was enlightened, renewed, reinvented. Alive. Hope was not something that I needed rather something I could create. Such fundamental truths always eluded my ego and even so I wonder, what other parts of myself had I lost. Ironic it seemed, accidentally sparking hope as I wondered about such things arbitrarily infected with the idea. Hope that I could grow more, learn more....become more. That is what I always wanted it seemed. Some things more than others and regrettably so my lust would drive unspeakable means to cruel and dismally diabolic ends. I hesitantly asked what else had I let drive my soul, but I already knew the answers. My hesitation wasn't due to what I knew, but the horrific mystery of what I didn't. The things that I did to which I could offer no mere excuse; things that I could not answer as to why. I felt as if I use to be a walking nightmare but I now know what it truly means to be haunted. A nightmare I was but could be no longer, jaded by my own mind; betrayed.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Friday, December 6, 2013
Transitional Truths
Every aspect of our lives change. Our understanding of the world around us is constantly being reformed, deformed and everything-in-between-formed. We live in a sea of stimulus and if that's not enough we still have the chaos of emotion all to interpret with an already tainted imagination. Such dynamic recipes for human behavior propose many questions which will one day lead to an answer; as was when it was first proposed that Earth was round. Now it is hardly unfair to compare the two examples in any literal sense of understanding truth, but the principle of knowledge yet remains. We see ourselves repeat history over and over again. We come to an understanding with the world around us, forces at work. "New Truths" become the foundations to build on as we continue to reach new heights.
We manage our very lives with this principle. Consciously and unconsciously we play a transitional role in character development. The subtle truths that we build our lives on ripple across every fiber of our being and outward so, we cast our love and hate unto others tainting their "truths" in the most subtle of ways. Cause and effect is a very simple concept, but in simplicity I am prone to pride. At times, it is dangerously easy for me to overlook effects that I bestow upon myself, and rightly so it is far more meticulous practice to bestow effects upon someone else. The irony of it all is that even in my "unselfishness" to cast such effect upon myself rather another, I may alter, in ever the slightest or profound way, my very judgement, which in turn alters others.
I feel as if I am playing Jenja right along side everyone else. I take "Old Truths" from my tower and place it on the top in a new reformed position. Sometimes pieces are offered to me by others and sometimes other towers appeal to my desire. I lend out pieces too, even with a gentle word or a hateful tone. The taller my tower is the more my judgement is affected by it; eventually, my foundation will no longer support these truths. My tower collapses into a collateral collage of colorful calamities crashing onto those unfortunate enough to be around ground zero. After all the dust has cleared and I can look around, I realize my tower hasn't knocked down everything it hit. No, some towers still stand. If the truths I stand on, I have come to realize, are transitional in their foundation; the higher I climb, the greater the cost.
We manage our very lives with this principle. Consciously and unconsciously we play a transitional role in character development. The subtle truths that we build our lives on ripple across every fiber of our being and outward so, we cast our love and hate unto others tainting their "truths" in the most subtle of ways. Cause and effect is a very simple concept, but in simplicity I am prone to pride. At times, it is dangerously easy for me to overlook effects that I bestow upon myself, and rightly so it is far more meticulous practice to bestow effects upon someone else. The irony of it all is that even in my "unselfishness" to cast such effect upon myself rather another, I may alter, in ever the slightest or profound way, my very judgement, which in turn alters others.
I feel as if I am playing Jenja right along side everyone else. I take "Old Truths" from my tower and place it on the top in a new reformed position. Sometimes pieces are offered to me by others and sometimes other towers appeal to my desire. I lend out pieces too, even with a gentle word or a hateful tone. The taller my tower is the more my judgement is affected by it; eventually, my foundation will no longer support these truths. My tower collapses into a collateral collage of colorful calamities crashing onto those unfortunate enough to be around ground zero. After all the dust has cleared and I can look around, I realize my tower hasn't knocked down everything it hit. No, some towers still stand. If the truths I stand on, I have come to realize, are transitional in their foundation; the higher I climb, the greater the cost.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)