Fragment

Blood was in the ground. Stale and old, but somehow still pulsing with power to her touch. It teased her, taunted her, fluttering across her senses like a dream.

This was the end.

Blocks

A block is like a wall, a cliff, ridiculing me in its pristine and unnaturally smooth and straight lines. It taunts me, calling me a hammer without a point, a grapple without a hook, one of the faithful without a prayer. But I know better. My mind is like a still lake, a serene pool, but it is also like a raging river, a staggering falls, an unending tide, and with its strength I can batter and smash any obstacle in my way. Or, should it prove insidious, slyly extend my tendrils and seep through the cracks and earth, to rip away all the ground it has to stand on.

I am a writer, and my mind is as deft as a dancer, as cunning as a fox, and as sharp and deadly as a knife in the dark.

Blocks? They litter my life like a sea of defeated foes.

The wheel's a turnin'

Sometimes you stop and think,

and stop...

...and realise.

Recently, I had the chance to be reminded of what life is like in my head... and where I wanted to go with that. I don't have all the answers, I don't have the skills, and perhaps I don't have the dedication... but what I do have is the talent.

I assume someone up there knew I was going to be lazy, and so blessed me in a hundred different ways... well, I have to keep reminding myself that those abilities are there for a reason, and have to be used lest I slide back into my hole.

There's a reason i'm here, and that destiny must be fulfilled.

Once again I find myself yearning towards the creation of what I want. Not just the start, but every ounce of it... to birth it, pour life into it, and let the ball start rolling... is the least I can do.

I can't give up.


I can't give up on this world or myself...


...because he entrusted it to me.

A Time of Change

Things have changed.

They have, and they have not.

They should change more.

My father is... well, you know. The most natural thing occurred, and he's gone. It'll catch up to me in a while.

But life has changed. Now I have looming prospects for a life with someone and my heart is tugging me all over the place. I guess i'm still keeping it normal, but i'm also trying to change, because it's time. I have to do everything now, because it's the right time.

Still, I get the feeling I can take a bit of time. Let things hit me slowly so I don't hit the wall and slide to the floor in a mess. I'm a bit lazy at cleaning up.

I don't know how to explain it, but I just feel so lucky I had so much time with him. And I feel... I have to be a better man, I have to be...so I can follow his example. So I can be even better than he was to me.

It's a tough job, but I should at least try. So one day when I tell my children I loved my father very much, they will understand what I mean.

A Note on a Life

On balance, life has been very good to me. I've had more blessings than any man has a right to, I have no disadvantages in this life, and I have had no tragedies so far.

I live a luxurious life, with no lack of comforts and I have been brought up in a loving family and taught the values of life, and what should really be important. While growing up, everything I needed was given to me and not everything I wanted was indulged - just as it should be when raising a child. I am the youngest of four children and have been more than a little spoilt.

The thing about my life is... if today I passed away, finally signed my signature at the bottom of a piece of paper that represented my life, I imagine someone - maybe the guardian of the next world - reading that paper and seeing on the left everything that had been given to me and everything on the right that I had done with it. Like some crazy stats page from a rpg where they have my physical and mental state, my home and local environment and all the things that'd happened to me...and then on the right.. nothing. Not one thing.

I can imagine that being looking at that paper and kinda quizzically asking "what's this?" and shaking it.

Because you see.. my life is... it's basically an affront to the world. It's offensive. I can't look at all the things i've been given and then say i've accomplished nothing with it. I can't say "oh yeah, I couldn't really be bothered to actually do anything". Who would accept that? I wouldn't, i'd damn myself to the tenth level of hell for an answer like that. How offensive is it to say i've had everything and done nothing with it when so many people have not even close to what i've got - both material and intangible?

I'd find that offensive, I would. It's the biggest sin I could do to this world and the people in it. It's a sin to that which gave me life. It's a sin to the earth and all the things that had to die for me to live this comfortable life.

It's a sin to just exist without living.

It may not be my past, but that's my life... and i'm quite terrified to die now, without having added anything to this world, this universe. I'm horrified with the thought of having nothing to say for myself. I just don't hate everyone enough to be able to do that.

I don't know if you can understand that.. but it would be like spitting into the faces of everyone I love...because as much as I loathe what a lot of us are today, and what the world is like...I love humanity. We're just so amazing, so full of potential for compassion, imagination, honour, kindness...such a potential for Good. And we could be so wonderful, we could accomplish anything, we could fly above the clouds and past the stars...we could make anything real. Our potential is so great, and yet......

...we bicker and fight. Lights flicker only briefly around the world before being submerged by the darkness, and most of us don't get through the day without being petty or spiteful at least once. We're turning our paradise into a nightmare.

And yet, everyday I wake up and dream of something better. I think to myself "today's the day something amazing is going to happen", and something always does. The human race never lets me give up hope, never stops me dreaming that we can make this place awesome to behold. That one day everyone will be able to wake up and see what I dream of, just by looking out the window.

I am 27 years old. My past is boring, but I can tell you one thing, that before I die I will change the world for at least one person. If it is with my last breath, I will make sure my life counted for something, and better, that I made a difference to someone, somewhere.

This I vow.

On the Cusp

I must admit that until fairly recently I had felt like I was on the outside of the human race - not an outcast, but something that was not-quite human. Looking for all the world normal, but knowing I must have been quite different.

As I sit now, listening to an interesting ambient soundtrack that somehow completely captures that feeling - a little cool, a little calm, a little edgy and alien, I can totally remember what that felt like. Isolation is a strange thing - not true isolation, which is in itself a beast, but isolation of the heart...being adrift, being other, never have being touched like you meant something more than being just 'company' or a friend.

As lonely as that is...sometimes it feels like only you can see a truth that no others know, and it is sometimes a wondrous thing.

That is no longer a world I belong to however, and heh, I now feel I have to actually watch my tongue with what I say. Ah, it was strange but freeing to say whatever I liked, safe in the knowledge that no one would ever see my glib lines and amusing quips as anything but innocent. That no one could ever think it was a pickup, not because I wasn't attractive, but simply because I lacked that human quality...that my otherworldliness led me never to be thought of or considered in that way.

So strange now that I should write this, it is two-thirty in the morning, and yet it feels like the ever twilight of my heart.

Screaming at the wind

"One thing I can say for certain is that in life, in growing up, we all face our own trials. For some people these are minor, for some, earth-shattering. For some they bite so deep they leave claw marks far below the surface, where none may know of them. Sometimes you can confide in your family, sometimes your comrades or friends, and sometimes you can't ever tell anyone and it burns a hole deep inside of you.

There's something that I've learnt in my life, and it's difficult to explain, but I'll try. It is simply the nature of strength. You may be broken, you may be damaged, and you may have fallen low. You may be crushed and you may be despairing, but when you feel like there is nothing left and you cry your heart out in the depths of the night, take one last look inside yourself.

Deep inside, past the loneliness, the self-loathing, the sadness, you will find one thing. A rage so pure, so hard, so undirected. A rage that hates everything. A hard nugget of pure hate and darkness that you might not even want to look at.

But have another look. Tap that jet black obsidian core with a whisper in the dark and watch it scream back at you. As you curl up in defeat, stubbornly feed it encouragement and it will roar with you. And when you lay on your last legs, grasp it in hand and feel the power rush into you. Defiance, pure defiance, is the birthright of every human that has ever lived and ever will. It is what defines us, what makes us strong, what makes us not go quietly into the night. It is what makes us spit in the face of death and refuse to back down from what we feel is right.

Defiance is your soul burning, the shining gold underneath the black of night. Nurture it, Temper it, Control it. Make it your strength, not your weakness, and you will become a force to be reckoned with."

- Denthar Vaun, Five Minutes of Hope ~

The Wind and the Rain

So...How are you, my true self?

It's been a while since i've added to this place...a lot of things have happened, and have not. Humans are such strange creatures, living such short lives...but for me, a year is like a week and a blink, another unfulfilled page turns, the book half written, destiny denied..

The wheels continue to turn.

But for me? Yes, I am afraid of the big wide world. Why shouldn't I be? Because the world is big and full of little people, how can I be big there? I think I would rather be a part of my small world and be able to be big myself.

However, that option is denied me.

So I move closer to the big world...but hope I don't become small.

And inside, I howl at the moon. These restless feet...god I am old now, is my life still waiting? Can I still grab it? Why do I lack the simple power to run to the horizon?

But i'm walking.

Walk with me too.