Here's Johnny

I thought I had found the perfect hiding place but it seems to have found me once again. With the side of the juggernaut axe now visible through the door, I see the face of my eternal accuser, its eyes piercing into my soul as easily as its instrument of destruction had pierced the woefully feeble wood. For an instant I too catch a glimpse into its depths but there is nothing: a void spanning as infinitely as the universe, self destructive and bereft of hope. My protective instinct rejects its intrusion but this vile contagion seems content to invite itself and for a second I am lose my senses. Paralyzed, I cannot retaliate. But, the light be praised, my spirit musters some resolve and pushes against the crushing tide. Not enough to overpower but certainly enough for me to escape and recede into my next hiding spot. It won't find me again here, I'm sure of it.

Καρκίνος

I once again feel the heavy mass in my chest weighing me down. Visibly protruding, it pulsates and oozes darkness, threatening to infect anyone who dares come near. Certainly the last thing I myself would ever want to do, but, then again, it's not like I ever had any semblance of control over its cruel gluttony. No sentience exists within its confines, only an unceasing hunger that consumes until all that fall upon its gaze has been extinguished. In many respects, it resembles a cancerous growth. The most curious aspect of cancer is that it is not at all a foreign body. They are all host cells, merely transformed. Of course, close examination can readily distinguish the normal from the truly abnormal (i.e. the truly destructive). However, unless one applies the most exquisite of scrutinies, the more insidious anomalies will often remain unseen. And there, in obscurity, they will remain, biding their time, festering, and always striking during some zenith of the host's complacency. An unfortunately familiar process.

And, so, what ought I do with this entity of most unendearment? Hmm... I guess I'll just blog about it.

Ghosts

I saw the outline of the back of her figure and thought to myself it could not have been her. But still the absurdity of that scenario drew me to investigate further. I watched as she made a turn and I saw the side of a face that I had once known. My heart raced wildly. Why was she here? This was my world, well apparently not. Whatever the circumstance, I didn't want to see her. Fingers trembling, I ran and hid inside the other room. Ok, she seemed to go into the library, probably to study? So I just sat there for a moment to regain my composure. I'll just wait here for a couple of minutes and promptly make a break for the exit. Surely that was as close as our paths align. Surely not, for the second I finally mustered the courage to exit the room and head for the exit, who should appear exiting simultaneously. Courage shattered, I turned around instantaneously, sat on a table, and just breathed deeply. This is stupid. I cautiously inspected the exterior to ensure there would no longer be anymore of this inversed (perversed) serendipity.

I left and saw her figure moving in the direction opposite to mine and I heaved a heavy sigh, raised my fists against the Moirai, and ... just laughed. This was not the fate I was consigned to and I refuse to accept it. And, suddenly, an all-too-familiar lyric suddenly rang through my ears "það besta sem guð hefur skapað er nýr dagur", from "Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása" by Sigur Rós: "The best thing that God has given us is a new day".

It is a new day, so I won't bother you anymore, ok? I'm still very sorry I did that to you and, while there is nothing I can do to ever change those events, I will try my best to hide in the shadows so that I will one day be forever faded away from your conscious memory. That would probably be the best way to go.

Apparently, ok

Apparently, I'm alive. It's a strange revelation that periodically flashes through my mind, more often lately. I don't really feel alive though. Nay, much more an apparition do I feel ... one moving from one room to another, one hour to the next, with only the incessant noise from the essential contraption connecting the moments. Right now, I'm just waiting ... waiting for me to finish studying the current chapter, for licensing to come up, for that stupid hospital to get back to me about how they didn't think I'd be an appropriate hire three weeks ago. I don't know how much life can really be breathed into the tenuous spaces left in between those crags. I've had many misconceptions in the past. But I sincerely hope that after this final period of waiting (final for the current phase, please spare me the bullshit platitudes of waiting being a continuous function of life, seriously go fuck yourself if you were even tempted to fucking tell me something that trite and cliché ... fuck you [god why am i so mad right now]).

Anyway, here I am, in as much peace as I can be in given the circumstances. I sit on the beach's shore with my arms wrapped around my knees. The waves grow steadily and impact me with greater force and greater heights. I stare into the distance and wait with bated breath for these waxing waves to peak and pass.

Um... I probably didn't express properly what I had initially intended to but... that's ok.

tick tock

the clock ticks, the leaky faucet drips

eagerly i await for the dawn to come
to arise out of the shadows
that darken these corners of this room
in which i seem to have been trapped

to be emancipated from the cruel taskmaster would be ideal
to be relieved of the unceasing ennui would be desirable
to be simply reminded of what life was above the waters would be sufficient

falling, disintegrating, crashing
how brightly shines the meteor in its final moments
an aeon of existence yet only known for a fraction of a second
its solitary travels through the void were, predictably, unremarkable by onlookers

hello, age-old companion
even though i had hoped to be rid of you by now
life seems to have intended for a different path
per profunda repo (iterum)

Shoulda woulda coulda

A while ago, for a few months, I volunteered at this pharmacy to "get some experience". Well, overall it was unremarkable and unedifying. But the pharmacy technician there was always really helpful. She was the only person that would really show me anything. I get the feeling she advocated for me the most out of all of them there. Well, I got to see her again today after over a year. We exchanged a few pleasant casual words and went along our way (she did recognize me). Now that I look back, I should've said thanks. I don't think I ever got a chance to say that to her when I left. Must've slipped my mind or something... Anyway, next time I see you, I'll try my hardest to remember to tell you. Thanks Christine (I think that was your name... lol), I think you were the only good parts of the memories I have of that place.

Musings of Insanity 2

My idling mind stares into the deep blue evening sky. Should I do something more than just sitting on my ass waiting for life to arrive. Obviously that's not how it works. Only a fool would ever suggest that. And I have not yet been afflicted with such a level of ignorance.

But here I am still, waiting. Should I choose the path of inaction, would the karmic world condemn me? Probably I would be cursed to a paltry, tedious, and trite-filled life. Truthfully, some are destined to achieve much greatness while others (a far greater number, I imagine) are destined to languish in mediocrity (if they would be so lucky). I will let you, the reader, to surmise the faction to which I have sworn my undying allegiance.

But perhaps one day I will be awakened to my true senses and the world will finally make sense, with some semblance of conviction as illuminating as the early dawn's light. I will arise and strike with great vengeance, a vengeance against all material mundane that had before clouded my immature perceptions. I will see it, clearly outlined, the personification of my malaise and apprehensions. I will not hesitate for a moment as I reach out and do upon it great violence, a variety of act typically fit only for the lower animals. A tad self-destructive, but a necessary process that must be undertaken prior to any rebirth. And out of that weary, ravaged husk will arise the flaming magnificence of the phoenix, with burning passion coursing through its veins, ready to surge through all obstacles unabated to achieve its goals with the purest of conviction.

Well, that would be nice anyway ...

Musings of Insanity 1

One day I'll leave and on that day I will finally feel relief. Never will I have to deal with this world's despicable transience. A seemingly unending cycle perpetuating itself into oblivion. An endless recycling of matter and concept, the old disguised as new. How many have been afflicted before me and how many more will there be after? An infinite legion. We never learn or maybe we just learn much too slowly for transience to appreciate (and benefit from).

I wonder how the future will look back on us as we are today. Will they be rueful for the great wealth that we languish in? Will they view us with utter contempt at our present barbarism ... our greed, our self-absorption, our continued willful negligence and ignorance? I hope they will judge us to be fools. I hope they condemn us all for squandering our abundance. We deserve at least that much and much much more. Surely, the coming of tomorrow's dawn will mark the time when the last few grains of sand we hold flow away between our fingers. A seemingly undeniable reality that we are too obstinate to accept as we drown out the warning alarms with our superficial musings and our contrived laughter.