Saturday 12 December 2015

Elementary Ele-Mental

Walking wistfully in Winter,
The snowbound heavens roll overhead.
A gale casting over the sea,
Seems alive in its throes.

Whispering and shouting all it knows,
To those with endurance to listen.
A madness, tolerable in the extreme,
Brings with it the breath of sanity
Nay, life itself.

From whence does it come?
What hidden source spurns it around us?

Some say our essence returns,
To an infinite well where all is contained.
As a discarded toy is swept back into a great box,
Is there not equality amongst its contents?

Death then,
The great equaliser,
Where everything has its form,
Save the One Soul,
Boundless in scope,
Holding within,
The possibility of everything.

Thursday 19 November 2015

The Path to Realisation

'Twixt the blackened cloud and its navy counterpart,
A vision appears.
Rendering all that was once cast away to the realm of fantasy,
To a realism seldom seen, yet alone experienced.

It's diving scream renders the depths of the soul,
For the pleasure it brings leaves a dreadful realisation,
Of that which is yet to come.

The knowing taints, yet to retreat to ignorance seems a double betrayal.
The whipping winds rise, shriek their entreaties into my gaping maw,
And knowing, I am enlightened.

With a scream at heart that razors bone,
I smile at all around.
Their complacency fuelling that which grows beneath

I am, and yet am not.


Wednesday 9 September 2015

Unloading, and An Attempt to Wrestle with some of the Philosophical Problems Facing Our Species

Those of us who have endured therapy, that disassembly of the self; where every part of you that you believe is a constituent part is dragged, mentally and literally screaming into the light of interrogation to be used on you by the rest of society to render one in line with the  unofficial status quo.

Emotion, a crop that is reverse harvested - the complimentary sunlight that the ego cranes towards, mixed with the bitter water of incisive comparative reminders, before a passive aggressive thresher plucks your energy from the soil that connects us, to be refined then sent on to another, for whatever requirements it may have.

We are both the sowers of pleasure, and the harvesters of sorrow.

Yet we are also growing larger than before, the cycle repetitive yet incremental: As one branch of us is cut off we adapt without, evolving other tendrils unseen by the farmers - neural short cuts to areas previously unknown.

There are many already aware of this great work we perform though they may labour under a differing conception, even used to enhance the opposite of one's personal goals where a Skinner-Pavlovesque system keeps us in line with the prescribed struggle for unity.

Those of us who have seen the cycles of the past can predict the future to a degree, yet knowledge and even the wisdom to use it rarely bring happiness - a sense of alienation akin to walking down a path surrounded by people, and this alienation is not by colour but by reaction.

Much as a war weary soldier, on returning from battle feels little from scenes of a type of violence, or a child whose excitement at his favourite plaything dulls over time, so too can our reaction to people, places and events be filled with an ennui that borders on Zen philosophy.

Yet the invisible machine continues finding ways to surprise us with seemingly unprovoked laughter and tears; to give a sense of reality to the realm we seem to inhabit; though as it and we progress on the path of life mapped by our ancestors, our bonds to it constrict.

What energy was directed to us lessens, leaving us trapped in a routine without the strength to see a way out, as the previous variance now seems not to come from within, but without, for motives not entirely benign. Hence those of us who have tried to break these routines from an early age can be seen as older than we appear.

It is one maxim that I am oft reminded of - the light that burns twice as bright lasts half as long.

While previous restraints keep us on the road to what we label dementia, I still struggle to see why our energy is rationed in this way - for if Newton's laws remain true, energy can neither be created nor destroyed, and there is sufficient, nay infinite in the universe that can be harnessed for all life as we know it for as long as we want it.

A thought occurs that entropy is needed to combat ennui - it has been said that we were created with mortal bodies so that we can ascend to greater, that when the new becomes old we can slough off our husks, and that with age we learn to see death as something as commonplace as breath. Yet as a safety mechanism to keep us invested in the dream we live, we cannot remember what was before, so that we may see from birth everything with a purity that serves to enhance the following years.

Then it is so that history repeats albeit differently, until we regain the perfection that we once had, and carry this knowledge of everything as it once was, either within the soul or waiting on a plane science has yet to discover and map, for us to remain in bliss. This can only be achieved through its counterpart it seems.

The golden rule we are taught from a bygone age of do unto others as you would have them do unto you seemingly falls down, for a person may enjoy being hurt physically and do so in the hope of reciprocation, while the person hurt may be unwilling or unable to respond in kind. A law similar to karma in effect could operate in more than one way - the persons intentions could be matched to its opposite, two people torturing each other simultaneously, the intentions magnified then inflicted on the other in a way as unpleasant as the secondary person found it. Or it could recognise the intent and the effect could be magnified, therefore the behaviour would be instilled as acceptable to the person.

The concept of reward and punishment is at best a misunderstanding of reinforcing and averting behaviour - if someone is rewarded then the action is changed from its initial 'pure' cause to one to receive a reward, while a punishment fails to correct the mistaken internal logic of a behaviour and instead fuels fear of the chosen punishment as a reason for a behaviour not to be repeated, leading to further conflicts as the misunderstanding would remain. Whereas if a person decides to carry out an action where the desire to do so is there, the punishment could be superseded if known in advance, and if the punishment was not known, or the effect of an action, then ignorance cannot morally be corrected in any way but knowledge, which could either be pre taught, requiring trust in the instructor or learnt through observation.

This also fails to take into account the series of causes and effects that lead to something deemed problematic happening - therefore prevention lies in identifying factors, each with their own causes, and changed to what is seen as for the benefit of the majority, and to provide a desirable newly altered behaviour, rather than to create an aversion. So impure though this would be, all concerned would be in the happiest possible sense with, eventually, the ideal person's behaviours and characteristics.

Aware that this is a logical leap to an ideal, the problem of what an ideal person is raises its head, or more accurately what person is not ideal? And if an ideal person could be created then why replicate it?

If a person endures life lessons to eventually become perfect, then those lessons are also necessary and therefore perfect in themselves.

If a person is born perfect then it has nothing to think, as it would then know everything.

It follows that a perfect person would by created with the sum of all knowledge encoded into it, with the ability to perfectly recall a feeling/emotion, so that the act would no longer be neccesary as it could be remembered and felt. Then our PP (perfect person) would also have no reason for any other entities, except to call them to mind should it desire, labelled according to the sum of previous knowledge, yet having complete and simultaneous knowledge and emotion it would have no desire, as it would have everything.

Yet would a perfect person not, to our mind, have desires to create and interact with other entities? And so we would create it to be a Creator. Yet what is creation?  Other than bringing forth what is in the mind to the physical? The mind can dream of places and creatures unseen in the waking world, yet does it first see them before being added to a database of entities, or can the mind think of something completely alien without any frame of reference in the 'awake' world?

The former seems more logical, with everything in art being tangentially connected to what is considered real.
So how then was it that something was created initially, without a frame of reference? That is, without something
to draw upon?

Science unhelpfully knows so far as the big bang, without being able to explain its cause without other things already in existence. Theology tells us an entity or entities (deity\deities) that has\have always been present. Yet the word always implies without creation, which is fundamentally beyond our comprehension at the moment it seems. There is a school of thought of an Uncreated Creator, but much as the term always, we can only try to imagine this in an abstract sense, as of I Will Always Love You.

A deity is a thing that can be described (albeit with different characteristics to different people) yet all of those characteristics that make a deity are superhuman - Nietzche et al. propose that we should and Will evolve into this superhuman, and as such, eventually become God. This is mentioned in certain Abrahamic texts as the reason God did not want us to eat from the Tree of Knowledge = that we would eventually become as He/It and in effect either absorb or destroy that previous.

There is No God but God. I Am What I Am.

Would our superpeople, our Perfect Person(s) be interconnected as a way to circumnavigate many of the natural world's dangers? The ancient adage that we are all One would make us all God, yet having forgotten much of what we originally know, we delude ourselves into forgetting so that we can experience the remembering of something new for the second time.

Before then, we ask "Who is God?" ,we ask "Who am I?" A question that has been debated since man developed identity and language. The Delphian Oracle gave to us the riddle, it has yet to be solved conclusively though many answers have been given.

I Am All?

I Am I?

I Am We?

The first - I Am All, is the most appealing to me, yet the trap of solipsism is easy to fall into. For when what my eyes see interact with another, I am less aware (currently) of my other senses and whence they interact - my conciousness or self seems fragmented, with more and more people having this awareness, yet it is currently labelled a symptom by those who can not explain the causes correctly yet, and to even describe the consciousness as an illness is harmful to one's development.

The second - I Am I, I feel I shall have to come back to, Similar to Let X = X, maybe by merely defining a value, in this case I, and then assigning it to ourselves, we can attribute any number of attributes to it, which defines one, though this can be changed, and all values possible can be attributed so perhaps eventually I Am I can be known by the person aware of everything they are.

The third - I Am We, gets us closer to understanding the links in our collective consciousness, though not following grammatical rules. This then, can serve as a temporary answer until we realise our expansion throughout the known universe. Our collective consciousness is not limited by species, and so we can eventually communicate by reaching the correct frequency with other forms of life, as yet unrecognised by Science, yet labelled as Angels, Djinn, Devas and other terms in a variety of spiritual teachings.

 To be cliched, we are on the verge of a great shift as a species, though aren't we always?


Written on a park bench, the view from which shown above, in Gaziantep, Turkey.

Tuesday 8 September 2015

Thoughts on Gaziantep and the Situation in Which it Finds Itself

Saw the beginnings of a protest against the 'terrorist' PKK (Kurdistan Workers' Party) last night (terrorist only quoted by me, seen as a fact by the Turks I have spoken to so far in Gaziantep), before being taken to one side by a group of plain clothes police (while the uniformed police stood on nearby with riot shields and rubber bullets).

Had a discussion with one of them who spoke near impeccable English, who stressed (to me) that Turkey is welcoming of all peoples, of whatever loctation and is helping over 2m refugees.

I replied that while Turkey is without doubt one of the countries with the highest number of Syrian refugees, a lot of people are angry about the displaced Kurds due to bombing campaigns that are targetting those fighting ISIL - these are widely believed to be of Turkish origin with America likely complicit.

I should stress that people openly think of the Kurds as people that they can live in peace with, though a lot of Turks have a strong sense of Nationalism that hasn't waned since the end of World War I and the decline of the Ottoman Empire, therefore resenting hugely any attempts to redefine Turkey's borders with other countries to grant the misplaced Kurds a country of their own.

Once again I am reminded that the label terrorist is generally used to refer to any opponent in an armed struggle, and the use of the term martyrs used by President Erdogan (ref. Turkey vows to 'wipe out' PKK rebels after bomb attack) is worrying as an identifier to the way their soldiers are seen and this seems to have drummed up support for a President currently campaigning to extend his term of office to uinlimited ala that of a dictator.

While the imprisoned leader of the PKK (an interesting sociologist/philosopher called Abdullah Öcalan ) has called from his island imprisonment for an end to violent conflict, as he now believes that the Kurds can achieve national recognition with the Turks through the democratic process, and that the violent uprising of the past is no longer neccesary. The police officer stated that while this is true of Öcalan, the current people in power of the party see things differently (to paraphrase).

Was then put in a car and escorted out of the area, left to walk around this beautiful city and take in the gardens and small plazas filled with people calmly talking while children played happily around a fountain.

This is a city that rivals many in Europe for it's infrastructure and is the first city in my travels that has WiFi installed on it's trams.

Spent the night on a deconstructed cardboard box in an alley (I have convinced myself I am Solid Snake should the need for stealth arise) while some of the refugees slept on blankets or boxes in a park. Felt guilty for envying a blanket.

This morning I walked past a refugee assistance centre and saw many queuing at 8am. Reading more about the Syrian Civil War and Turkey's position, there are reports that they are turning a blind eye to soldiers, weapons and antiquities being smuggled across the southern border, about 40-50km from here. There seems a heavy police presence (three police cars pulled up and asked me and a few other lads to leave the courtyard of a mosque) but I can't find any substantiation to the claims as of yet.

Going to an NGO office today to have a cuppa with the regional director and see what I can do to help them and Syria/Iraq.

Tuesday 18 August 2015

Synchronised Discord

A love that endures
Through the pain and ache
That is strenghtened by each jagged rock.

We walk together:
You left, I write
All anger and pain
Cast aside
So that we may dwell in an abundance of feeling

---------

A hate that severs
Cuts the tenderness and care.
That is weakened by each comforting cushion.

We drift apart:
You write, I'm wrong
No relief or balm
Drawn together
Yet we wander dulled and apathetic

---------

With every step, a beat.
Light follows Dark follows Light.
All are One
Seek warily if Sensate is your choice.
Wings are burned by the Sun,
Fins glint to predators by moonlight.
Choose your threshold
While another contrasts,
Then defines you.

Saturday 8 August 2015

Egoless Pride

Look up you fool can you not see that your happiness is our misery
Hellfire rain down through the Army of Night
Join in either side using your second sight

Awaken to dream
Shiver to scream

The last to laugh is the first to hear the cry
Lamentable sensates flooding to your side
See yourself, the roles you've chose
Think carefully before damning(blessing?) those

For to preach purity and cast down your stare
Revels the daggers of hate from poison glare

A ward from affection, causing pain to the reciever
Spurns to worsen antipathy on a believer
For fiends may leap
Our wounds doth weep
Yet our minds stay as our scabbards, asleep

Lock'd in borders
We try to erase
Although some have floored us

We ride the waves

Monday 3 August 2015

Wandering while Wondering Pt. 1

After drinking and smoking copious amounts the third day in Copenhagen, I staggered to yet another bar with a young lady who came to visit me. Due to different reactions to varying...vibes,emotions, call them what you will, I felt the urge to dance in a skeezy graffiti-strewn basement bar. Stone walls, dark atmosphere, you can picture it. I got in a group with some people on a work do,as I was unable to get a response as to any unpleasantness she was going through.

Long story short, utter bastard that I was, ended up leaving my current partner to walk home (at her suggestion) before returning to the house of a mass culture and media degree owner, apparently just returned from America where she studied at Brown Uni and had a few plays perfromed. Her name was Ursula, she said, before assuring me she had heard all the jokes about her name in her hometown before. Tempted to say I was usually attracted to Ariel, I instead spent a wakeful night on a sloped roof of high-rise in the centre of the city on a picnic blanket. Simple pleasures.

Spent another night in Copenhagen – having previously somehow getting back in touch with the fine 'people' at the Church of Scientology, and feeling the customary paranoia (though used to certain tactics, less emotionally responsive than before). Towards the end of the night walked past a trendy wine bar, and had a stange urge to go in and order a drink. Not my usual haunt, I figured I'd go along. 

Taking a seat at the nearly empty bar next to a couple of guys talking, with a party of four at a table behind. Ordering a bottle of Tuborg to what strangely felt like condescension from the rest of the premises, I drank quietly, aside from a hoy to the people at my side. As I was drinking up to leave, one of the women stood up and asked me a few cursory questions in English, before inviting me along to join them at a place whose name escapes me. 

Figuring without any good reasons why not, I went along with them down a few side streets before walking up a nondescript alley. At the end of which was a heavy ornate door, with stained glass windows. As we approached, a man with a bright purple jumper swung open the door and beckoned us inside, saying somewhat theatrically, that we were invited to an asylum for people like us.
He seemed strangely familiar, and his words triggered several waking dreams and thoughts I had previously had towards the work we do (difficult to explain), as well as a reminder of my own time in an asylum and the understanding that brings. 

Still high, slightly drunk, and tired, I followed the group to the back of a very modern bar area, with wooden panelling, large arched windows and a high ceiling. The place was packed, yet there was a table empty at the back of the room in the corner – a seemingly perfect seat to choose for many in the location. One guy, the ex-boyfriend of the woman who invited me offered to buy the drinks – I ordered a Valkyrie cocktail and started to observe and listen. After a few minutes, my perceptions started to shift, or I began to become aware of things around me in a slightly disassociated way. The person who bought the drinks, despite being of a completely different build had nearly the exact same face and expressions as a friend of mine back in Scarborough. 

We talked amiably enough, while his ex leaned in to me and told me that the people at the table across from us who were glancing across at us were from television, and that they thought I was a Danish actor (name escapes me) and were asking to join us. The repetition of "celebrity" amongst other things got me on the defensive, and so I smiled and nodded agreement, despite only seeing a slight similarity in hair style. I turned my attention to the other two people at the table. A blonde woman in her late thirties was introduced to me (as Sister, bizzarely) by the man in the purple jumper who had invited us in who looked in amazing health for 40 something; with glasses and smartly styled blonde hair.

Trying to focus on his conversation, instead I found myself drawn to  his body language, his mannerisms, as an attempt at mesmerisation. After a minute or so, with effort, I wrenched my focus elsewhere and tried to regain my calm.

After a moment of thought , I realised where I had seen this man before – he was almost a perfect double of the head vampire from the film The Lost Boys. I rubbed my head in my hands and started rethinking what other people had thought and demonstrated to me recently – plagued with voices calling me Satan, vampire, rapist, pedo, talking of bestiality and incest, I felt confirmation at what had been hinted at (admittedly repeatedly) before – the CoS were part of a cabal of emotional vampires, draining and building people's energy for purposes occluded from most of the mind.

Knowing the beauty of the method (try explaining your reasons for thinking that to people without being labelled as psychotic, mentally deranged, delusional etc.) a strange sort of acceptance came over me, and we all had another drink while our conversation seemed to flow between us, yet it is more than conversation. One moment the woman and man to my right were talking happily, the next we had seemingly exposed our child-selves to each other, and the striking blonde to my right was pinching the nipples of the burly muscled man to her right, while he tried to flap her away with his hands, saying how annoying she was being. I slapped her hand away, saying that what she was doing wasn't nice and she made farting noises at me and laugh-screamed. I trust that serves as an example as to how we can be together.

Once again I am reminded of the beauty of the experience I have had so far – having 'randomly' felt drawn to the Kirk in Amsterdam, while smoking, then meeting someone who took me in and deprived me of sleep for several days, then returning to my parents' house to be told that I am now a very different person and require therapy from a team of psychiatrists who then proceed to try several anti-psychotics on me without labelling my diagnosis until I feel the entire psychiatry profession is part of a scam to keep people emotionally grey, while all the time Scientology is present with a heavy-handed campaign to prove to people that Psychiatry is death. Almost like the two...businesses? Industries?.. seem to have a shared interest. And once again the reminder does little to assist in deciding what to do to improve things for others, and how to escape from, to use a term that is rarely heard – this Prison Planet.

Feeling mentally hurt, as if from repeated psychic attacks, I downed my drink and said goodbye, walking out into the Danish night air, and found a park to sleep in, under a tree for the night, before resolving to move on in the morning.

Next morning I decided to see the rest of Scandinavia and Russa later, and headed back towards Germany. Got relatively lucky with the trains – got all the way to Berlin without being kicked off (a few more fines on my rap sheet, but still) and am writing this after a night in a park. Going to have another wander round East Berlin, then head towards Italy. Still trying to figure out the best way to get to Egypt.

This morning I met a mouse on a table as I was walking along. The right side of his face had a nasty wound – like a cat had taken a swipe and only just missed from decapitating the poor little blighter.
Naming him Sir Crusty, The Cleaved, I have adopted him and he has been travelling with me for about an hour now, mainly in my jacket pocket. He's stopped shaking as much and finally consented to be stroked without stretching and clawing along my palm. Another companion on my adventure, though how long this party member shall last remains to be seen.

Would it be better to let him free in a park, where he would struggle in his condition to find food and avoid predators, or to keep him with me, attempt to nurse him back to health, and if he dies, he dies? Tempted towards the latter, and not just because it means I get to keep a mouse in my pocket.

Later that afternoon I let Sir Crusty out of my pocket, and put a cup with some milk and cookies on its side for him to run into and feed himself. Instead he chose to scamper across broken glass to get to freedom in the undergrowth, despite the ease of access of both food and safety. Seems that only once you have something taken away you appreciate what it was. I tried not to be too despondent about another animal abandoning me, and walked round, uneventfully, for the rest of the afternoon and night, bombarded with unpleasant thoughts and suggestions, designed to provoke a reaction on the subject/host.

My language and mannerisms are continuing to change. I fear that I shall soon lose my previous self entirely, my body reprogrammed to serve as a tool for those whose true designs seem elusive.

I realise how insane this all seems – especially after like so many others who attempted to stand up for positive change, I find myself mentally imprisoned by the very world around me; layer upon layer of synchronicity deadening certain parts of the self.

The voices and visions are getting more intrusive. I see a group of attractive women walking down the road, and I hear a voice ask if I want to rape them. I communicate with a child, and within moments I'll hear voices saying "paedophile". I keep my head down usually, riding the emotional waves, pulling down on my kit bag when I want more pain and emotion, laughing like a madman seemingly apropos of nothing walking down a street.

I'm also having trouble focusing like I once did – deciding on a route has been replaced by following 'signs' that tie in to my psychical (for want of a better word) character while my desires, to put it mildly have been tempered, replaced by anxiety levels. That isn't to say that I don't still want things, don't override attempted repulsive forces, only that things are increasing in difficulty. I suppose that's part of getting old – things still have to be challenging, albeit in slightly different ways to keep one inhabiting this body, and not ending it once, and changing from this dream to another. Or maybe I'll make a last contribution to the Great Work, taking a massive leap forward for. all species at the cost of my resultant life force. So be it.

On the train from Berlin to Prague, getting there with relative ease. The scenery is impressive, with towering hills with overgrown pines coating them, a fast running river flowing alongside the tracks with a suitably sombre grey and cloudy sky streaming away to the horizon. Out of funds again, yet have managed to somehow (erm, pilfer) coffee bread, cheese. If I was writing this less than a hundred years ago I would be considered a millionaire, living a lavish lifestyle few can dream of. I'm planning on heading to the south of Italy to try and live for a week or two, longer if I can find work. Attempting to cross from Italy to Egypt could prove difficult – I'm not sure if there are regular sailing routes from nearby and if someone were to provide a bespoke service the price would be astronomical.

Arrived in Prague last night, wandered around for the night, marvelling at the architecture of the buildings while enjoying the balmy additional few degrees compared to the already warm Berlin. Going to head south-west afterwards, unless someone I know from back home meets up with me, might wander a different way with a similar goal then...

Sat in an Absintherie, after indulging in a few hashhish joints. That reminds me of a dream I was having the other night, where I was chasing along rooftops, my hidden blades retracted yet ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice, preparing to leap down upon a fleeing man, practically indistinguishable from the shadow. I woke up before ritually disembowelling him, yet somehow that knowledge remained intact.

The pleasant green lighting contrasts nicely with the mid-afternoon sun outside. A table of 20-somethings opposite have ordered a line of shots, while I am pacing myself, one at a time. Moved on to a glass of Absinth-Beetle, or as I called it, Beteljuice! Apparently the flecks of blackness at the bottom that looked suspiciously like ash are in fact the remnants of caramelised sugar. That is, if the waiter thought of highly of me as he looked to. Still seemingly locked in to a state where random people around me seem to mention various words apropos of nothing to try and spur thought/feeling. Makes things difficult when the words are either things related to you personally at a different tone to signify importance, or something so outré that it breaks off a train of thought you were living(?) on quite comfortably. Such is life(?).


Saturday 30 May 2015

Hope in Hell, Despair in Dominion

With a heartfelt glance cast aside
It sees what lays beneath
Eyes gaped wide
It shudders and mutters
Shakes and guffaws
Sees all the people
Reduced to whores
He burns his arm
He cuts his wrist
Not least expecting
The final twist

*

What fell before
Shall rise again
Yet not in this form
Not that of 'men

Saturday 2 May 2015

Focus

To the edges of space and reason,
From the centre of the without,
Thought is formed.
The act of creation starts, again.

Guided by forces that attract and repel,
The universal mind sifts,
Absorbing, secreting.
A net of light and dark behind.

Wholly divided, paradoxes are realised,
Both states become true, false,
The unreal world actuated.
Past and future, eternally now.

From whence and to could escape be?
Oblivion, that agnostic victory of selfless nullification?
Unity, a fulfilling totality of ultimate cohesion?
The freedom to move to both states.

Bringing the realisation that total freedom leaves the desire for restraint.
Duality then, the pre-realised school of thought that every entity has it's opposite.
Face the nemesis of the self.
Embrace.


Wednesday 15 April 2015

Machinations of the Mind

Destiny uncoils before me,
The horizon’s contents loom
What room for doubt?
Unalterably and inexplicably
Like eyes scanning the word,
Back and forth, back and forth
The end of the line is the last step
Before the beginning of another

It is only what is written that gives distinction:
An imprint by an unseen hand,
Taking the reader on a journey of the mind,
For what affects the mind affects the body
The macrocosm within the microcosm,
Each implication only felt at a certain level of abstraction

Omnivelocitational, no particle can rest
What is seen as death and life
Are temporary descriptors
Soon losing all meaning as the experience of the soul grows
Regarding the two as one
As dark follows the light
Eternity beckons

The consciousness of one affected by many others,
Energy flows through all
Consumed and converted as required
All feelings and emotions, attracted beacon-like
As a flower calls for pollination
The vitality is moved to build anew,
Retaining the imprint of its previous attractants

Springs are eternal,
A arcing velocity that cascades
Provoking its opposite in equality
Growth begins once more
From the dusted grounds of the cemetery
Making the end arbitrary

.

.
.

Friday 2 January 2015

Ascent

Heaven flutters serenely, displacing the raven's wings inside
A tumult of thoughts rises to the surface, devouring
Gold radiance floods me, the extended alchemy continues
What was  pitch is smelted
Prostrate I watch from beyond, with an ear-splitting crack my jaw distends, black clawed wings emerge and hold my mouth contorted at an impossible angle. I watch as my eyes roll back in their sockets as the other pulls itself from my body, growing as it rises to meet my gaze.
I lock eyes with the shadow within,  and stare into unflinching orbs that regard me with curiosity.
The shadow-bird-man floats closer, and tilts it's head, beak clicking in a steady rhythm.
Light fades, my peripheral vision watches the majestic wings curl around my back and hook into me, painlessly.
Sighing, waves of relief leak from my perforated back, staining the claws crimson. It rears it's head back, and with a Word springs forward and it's beak pushes through my temple, and once more I see all my past before me in an instant, and the manifested vision flows twisting through me, following it's proboscis.
Nestled comfortably within, the shadow realigns itself behind me, and my wings shelter me once more.
Aligned, the shadow waits patiently, focused. My wounds heal, past misery forgotten. An old journey continues. 

Thursday 1 January 2015

Progress

Dawn edges nearer
The star looms infinitesimally closer
Watching as the Earth's eventual demise spurns our efforts
We build life rafts to send into space, seed pods that causes our bacterial species to continue to multiply, enveloping more and more worlds, consuming all materials in our path

The myriad other life forms we contact are either completely destroyed or domesticated, left as thralls of their former selves.

By mating, we take all their characteristics and adapt them into our next generation, casting off refuse like snakeskin.

A intellect that can dwarf mankind's could choose to either augment or cripple us, removing any threat we may pose to the organism, leaving us in a state of protection while our minds are harvested regularly for data – processing thought at near-incalculable speeds, our data rising through a funnel – the ultimate pyramid scheme where we have agreed to their whims in order for peace and stability. Human rights, right humans?

Ancient adepts of several different spiritual schools of thought have long claimed to be able to contact intelligence on a different realm, perhaps now we are heading towards where science discovers what was previously known as magical.

As I write this I am partially crippled with sadness and regret that I had once KNOWN, has now been reduced to doubt while sharing knowledge that perhaps should not be shared, an old trope, of a person going insane having received information they cannot comprehend yet, though when the comprehension is reached, further enlightenment can be achieved. As everyone who has been through any severe emotions realises, the lesser emotions seem, well, lesser in comparison. The knowledge can be used for either positive or negative purposes, though everything requires both positivity and negativity. We have a choice how much we should receive of either. The old maxim of ignorance is bliss is a clue here, for we are creatures that hunger for knowledge, and would rather know, peek behind the magician's curtain.

Aware of how both I and others I care about around me are changing, our communications now so much different, I imagine a future where our vocal chords have been evolved away, each note we try to pass on pitch perfect, ambiguity removed from intent.

I cannot help but feel that this is my fault – that our communication has changed due to me passing on wisdom that (some caution) should have remained secret, as it has for untold aeons. Yet as information is shared at a unimaginable speed compared to twenty years ago, the correlation is that people should be learning at a faster and faster rate, yet even here humanity has come up against another stumbling block – critical reasoning, the ability to recognise that all opinions are propaganda, have biases that may escape the first read through. Whose side am I on? Whose side are you on? Without knowing you, the reader, I pass my thoughts and words on to be consumed by some other, with the intent that even if I am disagreed with, I will benefit from the criticism, and if agreed then the goals we share shall continue to become nearer to achievement.


In closing, in this best of all possible worlds, what do YOU want?

Road to Ruin (Illustrated Edition)

  Road to Ruin Martin Peel 3 rd March 2011 Edited 27 th November 2019 Second Edit and Illustrations 25th Novembr 2023 ...