The Vile Pit

Like pestilence and disease that spreads throughout a bog of malignant maleficarum, a hopeless horde of restless men, like a bacteria, spread throughout the new age Zion, tainted by the lust and the corruption of sadism, anarchism, narcissism, taken over and cut down by modernism and minimalism in its black rivers, stony lakes and concrete trees, overpowering the morality and the purity of the just and true, throwing them to the flames of bureaucracy and blatancy, forging and moulding them into the twisted and misshapen design of perfection, the puppets and pawns of a long-lived lie, like a blight through a land once rich and ripe of hope and happiness, left to the demise of its own selfishness, to die in its own waste and wickedness, its own dead and decay, not bodies, just spirits of the once loved and longing...nothing more now...than a dirty Vile Pit...the Community is turned to a brothel of abhorrence, the abominations of love, truth, honour and hope...a lifestyle without life, a hope without hoping, love without loving, a cesspool for the world...for man...for men...

The pure and holy temple, once built and maintained by families of men, held up and supported by mighty beams and pillars of friendship, now broken and torn down by the dreads of life, the fears of its own fragility, the misunderstandings and the collisions of broken love and corrupted by the pains of its own humanity, its own mortality, a sacrifice leaving its solid walls brittle and crumbling within itself, with only its foundation left standing in the abyss of obscurity, a misguided memory of a once cherished past, the beginning of an end to an unknown story of a temple that once stood high in the heart of the now poisoned city, in the hearts of men, like a beacon of hope to the needy, the memorial for the grieving, the lighthouse of successes and dreams, now lifeless and lonely...razed to the ground.

Now it all stands, stagnant and dying, like still waters saturated in a primordial soup of nothingness, laced with emptiness and a shallow disdain. The Vile Pit is left there standing, waiting for it’s naive and unbeknown prey. But like many diseases and plagues that throughout the existence of men have been dealt with before, so too will the pestilence rife in the pit, dissolve in the counter-measure made by men. A cure designed and delivered by the hearts of men, the souls of our own uncorrupted self. A measure of truth and a touch of love, this fears The Vile Pit for its own demise. For in time, everything in nature must find its own equal opposite, bending the balance of life back on its path. So know and understand the Community well...The Vile Pit where the wicked and sinister dwell.

Advance To Begin

So oddly enough, and perhaps not too surprising, I find myself in a quiet place, simply vanishing from the world, lost in a deep trail of thought, contemplating about many things, but mainly about life...not just my life, but lives...or perhaps even life in general. Thinking about all my endeavours, and about lessons learnt, about adventures had, roads travelled, taverns explored and strangers met and lost along the way of my journey through life thus far. I find myself thinking about other people’s lives, like the strangers I have met and lost along my travels, trying to figure out what their adventures and travels must have been like, and how it is that they came across a pathway that lead them to me? I find myself thinking about the pathways and about the roads and taverns, rivers and seas running along the map of life, and whether everything along the road to living was meant to be, or whether choices and change leads all of these things, leaping and overlapping layer after layer, one on top of the other, all leading to what we call destiny, hoping that we can find some sense of accomplishment in what we is a well and fully explored life. And looking back at the tracks I’ve left behind, trying my best to remember all that I’ve encountered and all the paths not taken, I can’t help but wonder, have I chosen all the best paths, made the most sense of my direction, or even worked out some kind of plan about exactly where I want my journey to end...not necessarily to destiny, but rather some kind of destination whatsoever?

Board games are a lot like life I realized...you get movements, directions, opportunities, obstacles, progression, regression, diversions, growth, incentives, surprises, risks, clues and so much more...Except, here’s perhaps the difference between life and a board game...A board game, though filled with direction, have a very set course which one has to follow. While some have diversions and detours, depending on the choices one makes when an opportunity or obstacle comes your way, eventually they all lead to the same two places...either you win or you lose the game. But life, on the other hand, is not quite so clearly cut, no black and white, and isn’t quite as simple. In life there are more risks, more problems, more diversions and detours, sometimes more opportunities and incentives, and at the end of the day, all the paths don’t lead to the same place, and there is no win or lose...the only outcome that is either good or bad, depends on what your opinion of your journey has been, and whether you are happy with the end result yourself. I must also note that the one great thing about board games is this, that you can find yourself given the great opportunity of being given the chance to move forward, or to simply advance, in one step, to begin, avoiding all the obstacles, problems and risks all at once. The problem with that in the game, and in life, is that you may have just passed the greatest opportunity in your life...so one has to ask, is going back or ahead to the beginning really worth the risk of passing an opportunity by?

So that can only leave me with one question, one final request to time and fate, one last soliloquy to beckon a challenge, not only to myself, but also to life, to living and to the living, in the hopes that my life, my mind, my heart and my spirit will bequeath me at least this one last piece of repose...Is starting over just another form of giving up, or is it simply coming to the realization that the only way of moving forward is to advance to a greater future, by moving back to Begin?

Dé Ja Who?

Have you ever stopped and wondered about certain moments in your life, where you feel like the winds of change are blowing, like things are finally moving forward, that finally things are different, right until the time you find yourself blowing into a familiar space, surrounded by familiar faces, wrapped in the same thoughts and feelings you once had before, then stopping to realize that all at once, you’ve simply gone around in circles, in your mind and in your life, where your past has simply entered your present and everything that is happening all happened once before...? Well? The feelings are simple, and the process the same, the moment of history is just life’s little game of teaching you something and telling you this, that it’s time to step off the old tracks of life, which kept you going around and around, and it’s time to make a few new tracks of your own, headed in who knows which direction, as long is it took you to any place but here.

The mistakes in our lives are made without cause, under the worst circumstances, with perhaps good intentions, but lack direction. But the one thing mistakes teach us, is how to grow, how to recover, how to become who we were meant to be, who not to be, where not to go, which directions to take, which barriers to break, which fears to get over and which goals to climb under. The problem is, we get so swept up in the thoughts and feelings we felt whilst going through this amazing process, though tiring and daunting as it may seem, the feeling of loving and learning is indeed overwhelming and exhilarating, but they can only be used and felt once by a single source, and must then be left behind so that we can move forward and build on from there...But for some reason, History loves to find a way to repeat itself, as if our feelings of repression and regret have rubbed off onto time itself, so in an attempt to fix a past, it simply repeats itself in an attempt to bring the moment, the place, the picture, the person, the memory back from the dead, hoping that we can shape it and change it, and find some kind of solace within ourselves. But after exhausting ourselves over and over again, we soon realize that there are some mistakes that cannot be undone, some histories that must remain history, and Dé Ja Vu is simply a process of learning, teaching us to let live and let go...

Yes...sometimes in life we must learn to walk past our Past and move forward beyond the fear, beyond the regret, beyond the “what if” that we so blindly delude ourselves into believing. Sometimes we need to learn that life begins when you learn to let go, forget the past and remind yourself of a future, a better beyond, behind the past, ahead of the present...simply by saying “goodbye”...

Love's Mausoleum

In my short life...yes my very short life, and even so, I must say that I have managed to learn quite a bit. A little of life, and a bit about living, but recently of the Mausoleum dedicated to Love. Yes it’s scary to consider that there is a place, filled with neon lights, mirrored balls and where the hopeful go to mourn, not by wearing black (well at least not all of them), or by shedding tears (well not unless they’re drunk enough), or even by laying flowers down at the resting place of their lovers (that has yet to be considered). No, instead the process of mourning is done through dangling and dancing and flirting for fun, by downing as many drinks as possible to commemorate the memory of a once yet living Love. I suppose you could say that the whole lot there were mad, or completely insane or just high on hopelessness. But the truth simply is this, that we’ve fooled ourselves into thinking that if Love has come and gone, then the place to mourn is where you simply will not find it, hoping that you won’t run into a distant memory, or the faded reflection of the perfect match, that by doing everything lust wants you to do, hoping it will bring you as close to the real thing, but not quite as much...It’s an odd little game, and everyone plays it, everyone falls for it, and eventually one becomes intensely, hopelessly, horribly addicted.

Now I’ve heard of a place once upon a time, a place where elephants that reach a certain age, or the ones that feel they have no fighting chance of surviving much longer, a place that’s serene and comfortable...a place to surrender their last breath on earth...a place they go to die. Now this Mausoleum may not seem very much serene, and it may not be comfortable, that is of course as comfort goes...however, to some it’s familiar, it becomes normal, it becomes regular, in other words...comfortable. But elephants and humans are not the same at all. They have an outstanding memory, people always seem to want to wash theirs away...They have great strength and dexterity, people always seem to surrender to the day...They can swim across rapid and rocky rivers, people can barely hold their heads above life’s waters. No...elephants and humans are hardly the same. So I find myself wondering what exactly attracts people to a place that they know is filled with nothing more than diseased hopelessness, a massacre of lust and debauchery, a pit of drunken despair?

So after much searching, and digging as deep as I could, I finally discovered the answer to why this Lamoure Memoriam was built, and why so many down-trodden have ventured therein...and to my surprise, and great disappointment, much like elephants go to their cemetery...the Elephant Graveyard...to look one last time upon a long-lived life, and to gather a last glance of the life they’ve lived...The Mausoleum, is simply a place, for the hopeless and heartless to leave Love there...to die...

Miserere

There’s an old chapter hidden in a book, filled with countless lessons of life and learning. But this particular section of a more than ancient book, teaches us about a certain act, which in turn teaches us to love, to grow, to understand about life and living...a simple, yet complicated act, a lost art if you will, since it requires elegance, grace, experience and understanding. To the simple mind, and to those who don’t fully understand or haven’t quite grasped the concept, even after reading the same chapter and old verses over and over again...they call it to Forgive and to Forget...But to the wiser, to the more refined, to the intellectual who has never once underestimated the difficulty of the process, or the fragility of the concept and the true purpose of the act...they call it by its true name...a word which sums up the entire process, not just the forgiving or the ridiculous attempt in trying to forget...they call it...Miserere.

There are so many things in life that can harm you. Physical things, natural things, human things and then there’s Life. But the things that hurt you the most in life, are the ones that leave scars in the most unlikely of places, hidden places too hard to find, in places nobody would ever be able to find, places we try to protect from even ourselves...places like the heart. Yes it’s protected by a solid rib cage, and layers of fat, plasters of flesh, barriers of skin and more...but it’s the heart of our existence I’m talking about...the heart beyond the human heart, beyond the shell...the heart of the human spirit, the essence of our being...the Soul. Now it’s very easy to say you have the ability to forgive, and heaven knows with enough drugs these days, you can even forget...but in truth, the real act of forgiveness is much harder than you could ever comprehend. If it were easy, then the post forgiving effects would not linger so, or seem very lasting, like changes in ones personality, or the way you address a similar problem in the future, or even the way you look at someone...if forgiveness were truly forgiving, then nothing would change from what it used to be...everything would be perfectly the same. So no...forgiveness isn’t that easy after all is it?

Then there’s the second process of Miserere...the art of forgetting. And while many people have tried, and tried to convince others that the concept is quite simple, in truth it is not, and is simply ignorance trying to convince you in believing that forgetting will change a thing. No, forgetting is far too hard, when the scars of hurt and pain are yet visible to your human spirit, since it rests in the deepest, yet most obvious places of your heart. A broken soul cannot forget the hurts of the past if it’s still broken...a mended soul cannot forget the scars of the past if it once was broken...a renewed soul cannot forget the history of the once visible scars, when every time it’s forced to look at a place where scars once were and are no longer, it will always remain renewed, but never new again.

So in truth, we can try and try again, to convince ourselves that life is as simple as forgiving and forgetting, but unfortunately it’s not. If life is as simple as that, then life it would seem, is as simple and as hard as learning to forgive and to forget. It’s far too difficult to do both at once, so chances are that the best you can do is simply trying to do one at a time, and learning how to perform the other, and hope that the two will stick. To forgive is clearing all the doubt, the hurt, the guilt and history of the deed that was ever done. To forget is to clear the doubt, the hurt, the guilt and the history that the deed was ever done. So with that you’re left with simply one thought...is life truly as singing the simple psalm...the art, the act...Miserere.

Limelight

Relationships are funny things, especially when you consider the roles that each individual plays within the set, and where they stand with each other, presented to world, much like a stage, when there is only one spotlight shining smack bang in the centre of a room surrounded and filled with an audience of friends, lovers, relatives and acquaintances...all wondering who’s performance to look forward to, and exactly which one should be nominated the award for supporting the other the most. You see, unlike theatre and film, in a relationship the real rewards never go to the lead...no...the Oscar goes to the best supporting actor, who’s efforts and performance always outshines the lead, through his/her wisdom, kindness, gentility, perseverance, love and motivation, sustaining the relationship. Although this is how society has come to create the idea of a relationship, and has designed prerequisites for the process of loving...this is simply not the way things were meant to be reviewed, assessed, critiqued or rated at all. No, the best relationships are the ones that are balanced, the ones that know how to give and take, the ones who know how to share the spot in the room, both taking centre stage and enveloping themselves in the grace of the limelight.

Look at the moon did the sun. You see, the two great orbs that hover in the heavens above us, both have a simple, yet misguided understanding, both of them telling us the story of a relationship that will never ever be able to work well. The sun in all its radiance, glorifies itself, by shouting to the world “behold I’m here, marvel at me”, by shining brightly, filling the solar system with an enormous flare of light, beaming hundreds and thousands of light-years away, ensuring that he is acknowledged and noticed by all the world. And so too the moon is summoned when darkness falls on the edge of the earth, to rise up and reflect the radiance of the sun, shining high above in all its splendour, surrounded by a blanket of stars, ensuring that even on the dark side of the earth, a gentle reminder that the sun, its partner of luminosity, is still sitting on his orbital throne, the leader of a relationship of light. Unfortunately, the sun, like most leaders in a relationship, cannot control the inevitable tide that turns, when it’s moon grows tired of reflecting its glory, and simply decides to eclipse the sun. Like most relationships, when this happens, both individuals that form the couple, simply vanish into what seems to be an eternal darkness, pulling the relationship into a deep and empty nothingness. And things can get even worse, when the tide turns on the moon, and the earth decides to provide a healthy distraction for the sun, and comes between the two, slowly but surely eclipsing the moon.

So a promise must be made, right from the beginning, the genesis, from the pinnacle of creation, the start of a small, yet flourishing relationship...a promise must be made. That your moon must always do its best to support and reflect the goodness, the radiance, the very life giving essence from its great and mighty sun, promising never to eclipse him. And your sun must do all that it can, and must promise to always shine bright upon its moon, creating the luminosity of the beautiful orb, vowing never to let anything coming between them, eclipsing and hiding the both of them from the world, and from themselves. Yes...although fickle, material, shallow and trivial...sometimes the thing that can save a relationship, is learning about the effect of the limelight...learning to wear it and learning to share it. So here’s to hoping you both learn to shine...

The Wall - Part 2

Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can surely hurt me...something I’ve learnt in life is that the one thing that has the ability to puncture, rupture, demolish and destroy the walls we build for ourselves, encompassing our fragile hearts, are not physical objects made by man, or powerful forces in the sky, the sea or even from dry land, but the sound of bone-grinding, callous words...simple sounds uttered from a tiny orifice on a fragile, human body, bending and break the wavelengths of sound, cutting through the air like an arrow, darting forward faster than the speed of light, piercing through a mighty and solid wall, digging far deeper than just the empty shell of a human heart, breaking the seal of mind and spirit, and tearing into the deep abyss of a man’s soul.

Yes...some walls were built to trap people in, and others meant to keep some at bay, but there are some walls that were simply built to protect nothing more than the human spirit. I’ve erected the monument and brought it down, treaty after treaty I’ve allowed allies into the mighty fortress, not realizing that all men, wise men, free men, wild men, lost men, great men, strong men and even good men – are nothing more than just men...only human...only safe...until they find something they do not want within the confines of the wall. Nicolo Machiavelli said this “it is far easier to be feared than to be loved”, and perhaps he was onto something. You see love is a difficult thing to take care of, worse than a pet, more complex than a plant...love needs too much to support it at times, and is too fragile a thing to define, confine, rely upon and commit to. It requires grooming, pruning, watering, tending, time and patience, speed and pace, support and independence, freedom and restrictions, all in too exact amounts that are too hard sometimes to calibrate, measure or distinguish...love is simply too hard at times to maintain. Fear on the other hand, is easy to find, easy to maintain and easy to subject larger groups of people to, than that which love can barely manage to sustain. Love must be rationed, while fear can be gathered and distributed in abundance. If you choose to maintain an empire with love, you will easily be regarded as a great leader...but step out of line in even a fraction, and love will turn to apathy, apathy to anger, anger to hate, and an entire empire will come crumbling down within itself, leaving you with nothing. If you choose to maintain an empire with fear, you will easily be regarded as a powerful leader...but swing an iron fist too hard and fear will turn to outrage, outrage to riots, riots to an uprising, and an entire empire will be impaled by the mighty hammer of war. So how does one decide, when the outcome of either is nothing more than a tragic ending for everyone.

The truth is, walls are too costly to maintain, and when you let too many people in, you end up putting out more than you should be willing to give, so why not bring the wall down halfway, and instead of having too many tenants enter your heart, simply have neighbours who can support you and each one can support each other? Freedom in moderation is the meaning of independence and the basis of democracy and the pillars of capitalism and the perfect structures to a unique, civilised world. So I’m not disposing of the wall, but simply building a good and sturdy fence. After all, as a famous poet once said “good fences make good neighbours”, and neighbours make good friends, and friends make the best support you’ll ever find in life. After all...sticks and stones can break my bones, but friends are there to support me...

The Look

There's an old saying...that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Now in acting and performance art, they teach you that most of your emotional performance can be achieved by manipulating the audience into believing whatever you want them to believe, simply by capturing the feeling you want them to see inside your eyes. What they don't teach you or even remotely prepare you for, is how powerful the emotions in the eyes can be, especially when those strong feelings are directed at you. While it started innocently, just with a random glance, developing into a snaring gaze capturing all of my attention, building into a dangerous stare, leaving the both of us open and vulnerable, shackling both our hearts, leaving us both open to attack, no weapons, no armour...just a look.

But something about my look and something in my eyes told him the message deep within my soul long before I was ready to deliver it. And the more he read it, the more he sank deep within himself, and there I saw it...the look...watching him drift further and further away, deeper and deeper backwards into his eyes, losing himself in the darkness of his own regret, his heartache, his hopelessness, his longing...but nothing prepared me for...the look...a simple look...a look I feared...just eyes, saying one word...DISAPPOINTMENT. An no, nothing prepared me for that, the moment he gave the look of disappointment. And just as I was knocked down, standing 10 inches from a man, yet feeling so far away from him, staring back into an empty space, deep within his soul lost somewhere in his eyes, he knocked me right back down, after breaking the news to him, he did the harshest of things...he slowly sank his eyelids shut...like a bulldozer digging deep into my soul, a grave for the human spirit...bulldozing the hope right out of my heart.

No, they don't prepare you for the simple things left deep in the eyes...the look. It's easier when it's all those good things, like Joy, Happiness or even Excitement...but when it's Heartbreak, nothing is more dangerous and painful than a heart-wrenching, heartbreaking, disappointed...Look...

Smile

You will never understand it, and can never comprehend
How hard it is to stretch your lips, and smile from end to end.
With every facial muscle tensing up for a short while,
When your heart is broken, you'll never know how hard it is to smile.
When life has got you down, and nobody seems to care,
They carry on frivolously, and leave you standing there,
To face the demons of your past that hurt you deep within.
And now it seems the hardest thing to do is just to grin.
But nothing hurts you more than seeing everyone having fun,
While you alone deep in despair, just feel the urge to run.
Surrounded by the laughter that cuts you like a knife.
The jagged blades just seem to mock you and your pitied life.
No you will never understand or even comprehend,
How deep the wounds of life have run, which I alone must mend.
But I have never backed from a challenge, not even as a child.
So here I go...Life watch me now! ...Facing you... with just a SMILE :D

The Act

I’ve held my breath for far too long, and tip toed behind the stage, waiting for the slow hum of a group of string instruments beckoning the audience to bring their hustle and bustle tumbling down to a gentle murmur, knowing full well what the silence implies, carefully watching the side-stage crew pulling their leavers and egging the performer to take centre stage while curtain warmers are drawn to the side, signalling that the grandeur act is about to begin, just before the stage lights up and the house lights are dimmed...slowly...yes, slowly...the silence bites deep within my chest, tearing my heart from the deep abyss where it lie, like a misplaced puzzle piece that’s been too hard to find, or an unwilling cavity waiting to be filled...slowly I feel the cold chill creep up my back as I begin to realize that once again the hour of judgement...the Act...is about to begin...

As the main curtain is drawn, and the backstage lights are dimmed, the low-lights exposing the backdrop are lit, giving the performer a setting, a placement, an atmosphere, a point from where the journey begins or ends, whichever way the story goes, but a place nonetheless...I find myself staring back at glaring eyes trying, fighting desperately to break the facade, destroy my character, tear down the fourth wall, pulling everything aside...hoping...desperately hoping...to find the missing piece...the hidden piece...the part of the play that lost itself in a foolish game of hide and seek...an audience tearing down the suspension of disbelief, the dimension of the entire performance, trying hard than myself...trying to find ME...

Yes...I have found that life is all an Act, a grand performance of players and plays, of lights and glitter, smoke and mirrors, tricks and illusions, masked by a curtain, backdrops and trapdoors on a stage. But beyond all the pretty lights, and the vivid colours, the fanciful stories of fantastical creatures, of mighty heroes and powerful foes, I have found that the greatest trick of all was merely fooling myself into believing that all of this was real...But the real world is dangerous that way, fooling you into believing that there are real heroes, and fanciful gardens of life, and breathtaking sunrises, sunsets and dusks...There simply is no happy ending, all we can do is make do with what we have, and realize that this is as good as it gets, and that the only happy ending we can hope for is that we learn to be happy with ourselves...with who we are...with who we were meant to be...

This is the truth...the cold truth...the great illusion. Life, Love and Happiness is merely all part of The Act...

Reset & Replay

You know how sometimes when you're watching a really good movie, and you get to a scene that you really, really love...whether or not you loved the actors, or the cinematography, or the set design, or the director, or even anything else about the entire film...you can't help but keep rewinding the reel all the way back to the beginning of the part that you felt made you happy, and made you love any particular part of the film at all...I've begun to feel that way about my life altogether.

Some people can reminisce, contemplate or even try to relive their glory days, or try to string together memories or glimpses of the past, back to places and periods in their lives where they felt inspired, motivated, liberated, invigorated and simply more alive within themselves than ever before. For some people it's a heartache, a fleeting memory, a lost hope and even a broken dream...but somehow for me, I feel it's what makes life worth living...Because surely you don't live life just to see yourself through the next day? Yes, life is about growth and about developing yourself into a better being, or trying to get closer to where you were meant to be and become who you were meant to become...yes...but sometimes, yes sometimes, all life can be, are those small glimpses, those vivid memories, those moments of happiness, where everything and everyone in your life, for a brief second, seems to be in its most perfect disposition, in perfect harmony with the life you're living.

But the sad truth about some films, is that they are designed to have ups, downs, climaxes and anticlimaxes, and there are bound to be scenes or actors in them that we certainly do not agree with, appreciate or care about all together...moments in a film that we simply wish were not part of the script, part of the film, built into the final cut or even drafted at all...But life is not a movie, and unlike the position we find ourselves in when we're just a spectator...in life, we are involved and can choose which direction we want to go...sometimes, we are allowed to simply reset things back to where we felt comfortable with who we are, delete the scenes that we feel don't belong there, and replay things in the order that we feel is best for us. Many people can say that we shouldn't live life with regrets, and the truth is, I don't...but there are some bridges that must be burned, some reels that must be edited out, some scenes in our lives that simply cannot make the final cut, and some actors that have to be "ex'd" from our lives...loose ends, no matter what you think, are simply strands that once formed part of a whole on a body, are simply useless and must be trimmed and thrown away...

Yes...this is my life, and I am the director...and one does not always have to listen to critics and reviews...after all...nobody else can understand your vision, your design concept, your narrative dynamic flowing from one event to another, or the purpose of each individual scene building from act to act, each flowing and building toward the climax of your life's purpose...no, nobody can understand it. This is my life, and in the end I want it to be the director's cut, my version...Because if one day you find yourself in a position where your life is flashing before your eyes, you at least want to make sure that it's got a damn good trailer...and if not for any other reason, but this...then sometimes, yes sometimes, it is better to Stop, Reset, Replay and Recover...