Tag Archives: letting go

warfare of the soul

What scares us the most, even so far as to radically alter our morals to defend our fear, is looking around and realising we do not run the world.

Life has moved on, and our beliefs no longer mix with reality, but instead make strange those acts which make us human – our capacity to sacrifice ourselves to, and for, an idea, the ideal that all life is sacred, and only the nature of human shall be the killer.

Only then, un-blinded by ignorance, will we let the brilliance of our minds shine through, and attain enlightenment.

For, as long as we hold our views true and sacred over what we feel and see, we will continue to live as less than animal, surrounded and confounded by this world of self-imposed distraction, confusion and pain.

May and Harold

 
.ned vision brings you May and Harold, the portrait
.ned vision brings you May and Harold, the portrait

Great guffaws of choking laughter ripped through Harold’s throat, in dark contrast to the torrent of tears pouring down his cheeks, salty liquid slipping down his throat as he opened his mouth and tipped his head back to spout deep gut laughter, only to choke on his own tears and double up with a coughing fit, finally folding up on the floor as the hiccups, coughs, laughter, and tears overwhelmed his massive body and forced him to collapse in a seething heap on the cold stone.

“What is it Harold?” May was used to this sort of outburst, having been best friends with Harold since they were mites under their mothers’ shared watch, “what’s so funny?”

Harold found himself sitting up slowly, raising a hand to his cheek to calm the hiccups, holding his breath to keep the laughter down, and squinting his eyes to see through the tears. His eyes were burning, and so was his throat, ripped apart as it was from the joint abrasiveness of the tears and coughing fit.

“You have to see it for yourself. It’s just too much!” May’s outstretched hand recoiled nervously, but not quickly enough to stop Harold from grabbing her wrist tightly in his massive calloused paw, and pulling her down to her knees to stare straight into his eyes.

She found herself lost again, falling forward in perpetual spin until his eyes were the world. She landed on soft ground, thankful that he had remembered to put gravity on this time. She did not mind sharing his visions, but she did not enjoy the floating feeling that usually accompanied them, as it made her quite ill for sometime after.

“Watch,” his voice came from all around her, inside her own head, even. She shook her skull, knowing that she was not really shaking anything but her imagination of her own head, but it felt real. The voice still resonated from inside her mind nonetheless. “Watch the two birds fighting.”

Suddenly the dark around her lit up, and she was the size of an ant, floating somewhere above the ground, in line with the tops of the tall grass blades. Two massive redbreasts were hopping at each other from the corners of her vision, and she cried out as their massive beaks clashed only inches from her chest. “Get me out of here, you idiot!”

She nearly threw up as the entire picture moved around her, shifting her a few feet back from the arguing birds. May could feel he was sorry, without his apology, could feel the shift in the air, the taste of sweet honeysuckle in her mouth, the sensation of a caress across her forehead and back through her hair. The hackles that had been raised only a moment earlier dropped against her neck, and her whole body relaxed once more.

“Watch now.” The birds were fighting each other for ownership of a worm, a sad, defenceless worm that was getting battered and bruised, torn up as they grabbed an edge, lost it, and hopped back and forth to grab another piece of meat, pulling until the other bird lost its beak-full, and the hopping dance began again.

Even this close, the birds looked ridiculous, hopping at each other with such determination, reminding May of a bank manager chasing an errant customer down the street, or a teacher with a frustratingly intelligent child trying desperately to win their classmates back from the brink of anarchy. She even allowed herself to smile, but she did not see the reason for such gaiety in Harold.

“They’re hopping mad,” he said, chuckling so loudly in her head she automatically covered her ears to stop the sound, realised the futility of it, stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly instead.

Suddenly she was let go, and fell backwards on her haunches as Harold let go of her hand. She had been thrown out of his world so quickly that she had not had a chance to readjust, and the illness that usually overtook her when in a moving vehicle made her vomit on the spot.

“Look what you made me do!” May glared at Harold and pointed angrily at the vomit sprayed on her trousers. She was furious, and he knew it, but he was already off giggling again. “Stop it! I’m serious, dammit!”

His face, closely controlled, became unglued, and he started to giggle, first behind closed lips, then through clenched teeth, then a snort, more snorts, and finally complete hysteria. She felt her chest clench in annoyance, until she heard him mumbling something to himself as he rolled clutching his belly and giggling.

“I’m serious, dammit!” His voice was almost a perfect copy of hers, but when he said it, it sounded petulant and childish. She smiled after the third or fourth utterance of that phrase, just as he managed to regain his composure, roll to his side, and look her in the eyes. They stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other, serious and controlled, when she felt a snort in her own throat. What was this? Dammit! She started giggling, and he started giggling.

They were rolling around on the grass giggling at each other, some serious part of her mind wondering when he would ever grow up, when she would ever grow up, when he would come to terms with the fact that he was completely insane, that she was too, and that no matter how gifted he was, neither of them was going to be set free from these blue institutional walls.

Mother Bear

Another day, another airport,
So far away, further than before,
Heading to calm steam emotions,
Flat self echoing fear and superstition,
All that I want, I cannot say,
All is calm inside and out,
But deep down I rile,
Thank the steam of cool control,
That stems the flow of tears,
The solid resolve to not break down,
That holds me tight in iron grip,
And flattens my darkest fears.

Life without is strangely empty,
No thoughts can move along that path,
You are my reason, touchstone, sanity,
Without you I am adrift at sea,
I know you are always with me,
That forever waits for no one, yet
I hope to hold you close once again,
And chase your nightmares away, Mother Bear,
For me, for everyone, you have always been there,
And within us you will always stay.

Notes on Suicide

What the fuck is the point,
Why the fuck should I care,
There’s nothing more for me out there,
No solice to last, no thrill, no real blast,
No life-joy, fun-filled, exhilarating high,
No self-destructive, suicidally-depressive low,
That I haven’t already tasted, seen, heard felt,
Why, into this carpet, can’t I just melt,
To each Michael his music,
To Ruthie, love of life,
To Elil reality acted,
To father, just more strife,
But I don’t have that je ne sais quoi,
That joie de vivre, or other quota,
It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s all a pile of shit,
Even Ian has a life, though it’s pure flip,
Where is my hole, my soul in the ground,
When will I ever get off this merry-go-round.

Let the candles burn low,
Let my heart bleed dirt,
No more will I cry,
Never again will I hurt,
This ugly thing called life,
An abomination, no, more, an abortion of hope,
And again in the darkness I grope,
Like a sad easter bunny, searching blindly for one last egg,
I fell too deeply, now broke my leg,
And noone may help me, nor hear my lost soul beg,
For loneliness is my only friend, and in the end I’m dead.

But death is too good, too final for me,
The nine billion monkeys would no longer be laughing with glee,
They would have lost their plaything,
In dying I hope, the end is the end,
Another life would be hell,
And it would all begin again with the last toll of the bell.

Death is too easy for me pray-tell,
No last chance saloon or horror hotel,
Nothing nightmarish but what’s in my own head,
Don’t cry for me, I’ve made my own bed.

I sacrifice everything, and nothing at all,
For life is really simple, look on the wall,
In blood will be written; when all angels fall,
The end is the beginning,
As winter follows fall,
The forest is empty,
The trees have all died,
The wood is all hollow,
The three woodsmen have cried.

Tears won’t outlast a true nature’s beast,
And rest is eternal for nothing at least,
Not in this lifetime or the next,
Not my smiling face putting demon’s to rest.

For as we all know truth is power,
And the only lasting truth will be known in my last hour,
But to know, to want, to feel, to have,
These are the things that can only make us sad,
Cry tears for our children for they do no know,
The loss that we give them is the bottomless hole,
That black empty cradle of deathless light,
That in its bright shining cripples all night.

There is no more to say to this babble,
Rise up above the shit all ye rabble,
And take what is yours from my own pompous lips,
You can have it with my blessings, it’s really a pile of useless shit.

But then again,
Love,
Truth,
Sacrifice,
Isn’t that all so very nice.

And in the end, it comes again,
Like bad penny rising or bile in throat,
No more will my laughter everyone choke,
For death is my final say in all things,
And you can all fuck off, even you in the wings,
You don’t mean shit to me,
You’re not even a speck on a speck,
And the truth to all lies makes this one big joke dear friend,
Because I really couldn’t give a shit in the end.

So fuck off all you well wishers,
All helpers and lovers,
Friends above-board and under the covers,
I don’t need any more insights or painful revelations.
I know it all better than you ever will,
And yet I know nothing at all.

But,
I will fight,
I will bleed,
For the day my soul’s freed,
Because nothing to live for,
Is everything I need.