The time is 4:21 am.
I sit spellbound and morally detached, vitalizing the voracious nature of my virility. Where one might be wise enough to dub this moment as 'synchronization with oneself', i call it tuning myself in with the "vox populi". I take this time to reconsider my motives and to evaluate my future stratagem. A rendition as it is, it is imminent that the rationale molding in my mind serves its purpose - to serve the incitement of my kin.
The ideas form of their own accord and i sit there falling deeper and deeper into the never ending abyss of ambiguity. Finally, i see hope spread its wings in the form of an angel, so unlike the Faustus contradiction, which helps me return to this mortal world rigged with delusions and moral dilemmas. That 'hope' helps me realize that whether i have a chaste bond or an implied acquaintance it matters not. I survive so that my fellow compatriot can survive.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Epitome of Singularity
Sometimes i find myself thinking as if i have been deluded and satirized by my subconscious. A betrayal and yet a self defense mechanism grinding the gears of my life. A pacifist since the beginning, i now find myself lost in the woods surrounded by the fires of animosity.
Reminding myself of my past, i dwell on the dark side of my nature. Inspired by a lyrical thought, i always envisioned myself as a remorseful being who found solace in a rapper's sentient words - "Sometimes i cut myself to see how much it bleeds. Its like adrenaline, the pain is suddenly rushed to an extent and is then ceased". Should i embark on this quest for self fulfillment or should i just go all the way like Van Gogh or perhaps a more 'grungier' approach like Kurt Cobain?
Inside i feel as if i am still that 13 year old boy, intent on keeping himself below the rules and obeying them with the strictest of morals. But would my consciousness allow that? Inadvertently, on the outside, i feel as if i should be the one creating the rules and then bending them for my pleasure. Wouldn't that be a masochistic approach? So far i have failed to acquire the knowledge to decipher myself.
Perhaps i need to embark on a quest to find my own Holy Grail or else perish in the depths of the deepest of all abysses - sorrow.
Reminding myself of my past, i dwell on the dark side of my nature. Inspired by a lyrical thought, i always envisioned myself as a remorseful being who found solace in a rapper's sentient words - "Sometimes i cut myself to see how much it bleeds. Its like adrenaline, the pain is suddenly rushed to an extent and is then ceased". Should i embark on this quest for self fulfillment or should i just go all the way like Van Gogh or perhaps a more 'grungier' approach like Kurt Cobain?
Inside i feel as if i am still that 13 year old boy, intent on keeping himself below the rules and obeying them with the strictest of morals. But would my consciousness allow that? Inadvertently, on the outside, i feel as if i should be the one creating the rules and then bending them for my pleasure. Wouldn't that be a masochistic approach? So far i have failed to acquire the knowledge to decipher myself.
Perhaps i need to embark on a quest to find my own Holy Grail or else perish in the depths of the deepest of all abysses - sorrow.
A Brief Foray Into My Soul
I am a person caught in the dwindling conundrum of two separate realities. The continuum of my existence is only rivaled by my desire to fathom the mysteries of arrogance and ignorance. Entranced by the plethora of imminent chaos around me, i have subtly refused to accept my predominant side.
When i look at Rorschach inkblots, i see nothing - Nothing! What is a person supposed to assume from this predicament? Am i really that thoughtless or is my amplified sense of reality obscured by a holographic dilemma?
In awe I watched the waxing moon ride across the zenith of the heavens like an ambered chariot towards the ebon void of infinite space wherein the tethered belts of Jupiter and Mars hang forever festooned in their orbital majesty.
As i feast my eyes upon this divine comedy, I find myself fixated upon the same question as Hamlet once was - "To be or not to be" - a question which only time will answer with a derelict endorsement and some quick procrastination will follow.
Damn you Machiavelli!
When i look at Rorschach inkblots, i see nothing - Nothing! What is a person supposed to assume from this predicament? Am i really that thoughtless or is my amplified sense of reality obscured by a holographic dilemma?
In awe I watched the waxing moon ride across the zenith of the heavens like an ambered chariot towards the ebon void of infinite space wherein the tethered belts of Jupiter and Mars hang forever festooned in their orbital majesty.
As i feast my eyes upon this divine comedy, I find myself fixated upon the same question as Hamlet once was - "To be or not to be" - a question which only time will answer with a derelict endorsement and some quick procrastination will follow.
Damn you Machiavelli!
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