Loose end...

You won't find me looking. I would avert my eyes in that moment, that instant just when you gaze in my direction, that way you can't tell the truth about me.
You won't know I care either because when you say the right things, do the right things I'd stay aloof, rebuke you and even run away. Call me coward, still you won't be able to tell whether I care.
I won't come to you either. When you call, when you need me, when you push everyone away and desire only me to be by your side, I'd run far far away and stay hidden from your sight. This way you would know the truth that it is over and give up as I wish you to.
You won't believe what I have done to you, you'd question my actions over and over again and still find no answers that give you peace and in turn I'd make sure that I'm not available. I would be just out of reach, so near and yet so far that there is no chance of us ever being together in order to torture and frustrate you.
Still all is not lost for there is one thing I cannot control and that is your feelings for me. If you are true to them, believe in them and trust your heart then I would return. The truth is I won't come because you called, now would I come because you sought me. I won't come out of pity nor because others say I should. I would come because you believe in me and this is something I cannot control. Take it from me in spite of what others say be true to your heart and I would return in my own good time. Surely you haven't forgotten I am the loose end in your life. I am Love.

The way, the truth and the light...

When we took our seats in the restaurant she was silent.
"How do you know this?' she asked.
" I don't. I see the path and follow it and then it gets me there. Then I know it was what I was meant to do."
"Yes, but how do you trust it? I mean this path you talk of?" she enquired.
"Can't tell you that either. It's as if we exist for one another. It is opened before me and I walk it. It's as if we are responsible for one another's existence, the path and me."
Silence. In a noisy room with barmaids running after each new guest and the excited chatter of people coming, going and staying our table is like a graveyard.
"You're scaring me." She whispered.
"I'm scaring myself." I responded matching her tone and mood.
"Can you ever not be on the path?" she asked.
"That would mean I do not exist. I am present so the path must be present."
She took a deep breath and then folded her hands on her chest as she tried to read every tell sign I may have possessed. Suddenly she leaned forward and out of nowhere she demanded,
"Can I be there too? I mean can I be on the path?"
 This time her eyes were penetrating seeking answers and challenging me to them.
"You already are, you exist for it as it exists for you."
"Then how come I never knew of it until you just told me now," she said.
I paused before answering listening to the chatter around me. Evening was creeping through the fading sunlight, still this did not deter what was meant to be.
"It led you to me that's why we are together and you now ask me these questions."
She sat back in her chair relaxed and smiled.
" You are weird."
 

Now will I sing...

The thoughts of a man leadeth him to sorrow or to joy. The thoughts of a man are binding or releasing. The thoughts of a man deceive or bare truth, they are gain or loss.

The heart of a man leads him to his desires, it is the barometer that measures his aches or joys. The heart of a man can do one thing for him, tell him truly how he feels.

The spirit of a man is his one truth because when all is said and done, when loss or gain is surpassed and love or hate overcomes, it is all that is left in the end.

Your heart will show you your desires, your thoughts will bring forth these desires whether good or bad but in the end none of these would matter unless your spirit is in all of this.

Hmmnh... Now will I sing know the spirit of the man and you would know what he seeks and desires...

Wait a minute...

They said it would come at half four, I’ve been sitting here for hours on end and still no delivery. Still I know I made that order, I’m sure I got confirmation, my card details went in and I phoned to check so I’m sure it is due any time soon.

    Time lingers along and it’s now five. How could this be? I’ll check my email, I’m sure it was four they said. Minutes later, switches, lights, email, there I knew it -1600hrs! This means four in the afternoon, there, let’s check the date… got that right too, yet no delivery! I’ll call and see what happened.

    Time lingers along. Excuses, excuses, my goodness! Well I can live with this for a couple more days and I’ll be away tomorrow anyway so it isn’t so bad. I don’t have to sit here in despair waiting for it.

    Time lingers along. Things happen and I forget, the world changes, news, people, events and then another week. I call them. It is confirmed they will make delivery without fail on the Wednesday, this time it is AM delivery. Oh I like those for they rarely fail.

    Time lingers along. Dear me, I was just in the bathroom for a minute, I mean what is this world coming to. They came and left a note! Can you imagine, a note! Why didn’t they just wait a little bit for me, I had been sitting right there all morning and now this. Never mind at least I know that it would come. I just have to book it for next time.

    Time lingers along. Oh well it doesn’t matter now, next week I’m busy and the week after that I’m away they just have to bring it whenever they can. It serves them right. Blasted thing, who needs it anyway. Bell rings! Who is it? Ah it’s them. Grinning sheepishly as I receive the parcel. Finally, at last, my goodness, I’d almost given up hope. Oh well I guess in this life one has to be patient.

    Faith is the credit card that paid the bill. Hope is confirmation and receipt of payment. Patience is the virtue that in spite of all the mishaps that one may face what we desire is en route to us. To those who desire, make your order and do not give up on the service, all your wishes would come in good time. ‘Commit thy way unto the Lord;trust in him and he will bring it to pass…’

Dear BFF, we might just have to break up!

Dear BFF, 

It took me a while to figure out that the world was changing. The age of acronyms was superseding that of aphorisms. You could con a phrase, twist it one way and then the next and before long you were texting rapidly in an unknown language that had descended upon the horizon as if you’d walked into an apiary. You were either alienated from it or caught in the groove when you saw the new age people dancing in rhythm to this tune that you’d never heard before.

     I’ve got my own proclivities but who hasn’t. Now all I hear is OMG, LOL, BTW, I’m practically lost in this world most times as I need a translator to decipher code and explain to me what message I have just received. Still I’m not on a warpath here but seeking a détente. I’m willing to shake hands if this is restricted to text messaging. I understand it’s simple and easy to get one’s message out rapidly. However I draw the line at emails.

     BFF or otherwise, I say stop this madness else you won’t receive my reply because I just can’t be bothered.  

Yours truly

The relic

Window Shopping...

What I’m looking at is a small vase, the size of a button, how this was created is hard to imagine. What purpose it serves leaves me traversing boulevards, walking vineyards and humming to radio tunes one only remembers in a traffic jam. I’m not done yet with you a part of me cries still I’ve got a long day ahead of me so I shan’t tally but move on.

     I’m now standing before this next shop because it sells socks, not much to contemplate here. I should get some but what a drag. People should buy these things for us. There was a time when all I got for Christmas was a pair of socks. 1996 it was. Nothing mattered then because in that year, the one I had been waiting for walked out of the cold and into my life. Before then I had never liked holding hands but I was forced to from the moment I laid eyes on her. They say l’amour can play tricks with a man’s head, mine must have been singing anthems with the stars. I grew in statue that summer making even the ridiculous pair of socks for Christmas the ultimate gift a man could receive.

     Doesn’t time just fly by? It’s as if when I need to escape the noise and tussle of Beirut my radar always directs me to this spot. Horology serves its own purpose but for me it is how a great watch feels on my hand that counts. Why are they so expensive? Status I guess, still if this part of the shopping arena allows my innards to refuel than I’m not complaining. Just to let you into my world, the assistants here also make one feel important, they size you out for what you are looking at, ponder about what you can afford and dare I say challenge you to ask for a closer look. I love catching their eyes staring because they turn to retreat and allow me the freedom to explore and dream.

   A spot of lunch would do me good for the growling coming from my bowels but that’s the furthest thing from my mind, as I knew eventually I would end up here irrespective of where I started. First things first, book covers, designs they draw you in one after the other. What’s the message, who’s the author? It’s an art gallery here and I’ve decided to play the child and be coerced by what attracts the eye rather than the mind. I can’t make up my mind, I’d have to try the blurbs something’s got to give, there’s got to be something I can take home with me. Let’s see what could I use in my life now? No, please don’t teach me anything. My brain is too tired. Horror…a bit too gruesome for my mood, perhaps something lighter. Espionage…tempted? Well I got a great film just dying to be seen so…

    Bang, bang! There’s a knock at the door and I am woken from my reverie to discover that I haven’t left my room and I’m right there staring down the throat of Google and the vast space of the world wide web. When would I ever learn that to get some peace and quiet I need to step out of this house and do some proper shopping! 

Free for all...

The hardest thing to do sometimes is exposing what you know to others. What would they do with it? Would they abuse it or take it and become better than you? Isn’t it yours for keepsakes? I mean, common you worked so hard to get to where you are just for someone else to step in and count their blessings. After you have run through all the outcomes of what could happen, you then decide, perhaps I’ll share a little, not all but just enough, besides I have to keep something for myself, it’s fair isn’t it? 

    Say the first person you give that little to treats it well, makes the most of it. First you rejoice, then wonder, did I do the right thing? Still though what would they have done if I had shown them all. Perhaps I would have been ripping greater rewards…er, before you get ahead of yourself let’s consider the alternative. Say the first person you give that little to abuses it, dismisses the fragments of your hard work. Again you wonder, maybe I was right to give just a little, the evidence is in the outcome, you can’t argue with that. There is a flip side to this argument though. What if you had given more, how can you tell that they won’t do more with it, make the most of your hard earned labor.

    Finally you are at crossroads, you’ll get here eventually whether you like it or not because this place is unavoidable. Whilst you are scratching your head and planting imprints in your carpet you finally come face to face with your nemesis, the dreaded mirror. In this you can’t hide from yourself. It’s really down to what you can live with. I would go with my gut feeling when the time comes, I would give if I feel like giving and I won’t if I don’t feel like it. I mean that’s fair isn’t it? There I’ve made a decision so leave me alone!

    Things work out for a while as they always do until the time comes and your gut gets it wrong and this time your dustbin becomes the subject of your frustrations. Oh what the hell! Just another day, right? Wrong! Again and again and again, this gut of yours is something else. Just why can’t you get it right, at least just once? 

    Ah! If you have reached this place don’t sweat it we all do and would continue to in our lives. The fact remains that what we receive we do by grace and what we give we do so also by grace. Getting past the crossroads in our lives is by grace and this is one thing that is free for all…

Forsaken...

Forsaken…

Purer is the wind that bloweth the trumpet

Lighter is the step that trampleth the waters

Greater is the man that standeth before thee

Sadness is the song that playeth in his heart

My house of mourning cometh before the morning star

Bravo! They haileth from the hills afar off; Purpose serveth reason

For without purpose why doth angels be

If gifts be given men what doth then angels

Cry ye not then my beloveth; Faint not in thy travail

In battle some men falleth as others riseth

A wondering cub searcheth the earth for its mother

A man’s heart deceiveth for pleasure

Where art thou crieth vain mumblings

Time slippeth away like the faint shadow of darkness

I am for thee saith my purpose; If thou be an angel then don’t ask why

Thy purpose is reason why tribulation befalleth thee

Greater is you than the desires of mine heart

Thank you father for my light that shineth today

For I serve the Amen and nothing else

Pictures of a blind man

Often taken to entertain the premise of what he sees. If they come out right he rushes to show others, if they don’t he hides them from the universe. Is there a purpose behind this ploy? I have known the world he says, been in it, dealt in it, wept in it and shed blood in it and I can tell you that this is what it desires of me. I have known another says he that isn’t blind within him, that world you have worked so hard for would reject you one of these days old fellow. Rubbish! Says the blind man, how can what I feel, touch, smell and breath, reject me, it is just what it is, I know my world just too well. Ah! Says he that isn’t blind within him, if you know your world so well how come you do not know of me and I am in it?

I see rain...

‘I hate you father, I hate you for leaving me!’ Timmy hissed quietly to himself. I am so mad! I am so angry! Mum does not understand! He clenched and unclenched his fists as he beat on the ground. I am my own man and no one but me knows what’s best for me. I have lived my life alone without a father. It is that boarding school that has done this to me. Where were you then, eh Mum? I was only twelve and you left me so far away in the hills away from everyone I knew. He came to visit me only once, that was all and then he left us, dying away so easily without seeing me grow up to be a man.
The crickets were out for the night their humming noise persistent in his ears. Timmy listened to them, sitting up and staring at the town from the small hill. No one listens, no one wants to understand! Grand mum said focus on what you want to achieve and ignore what is around you. That is what I have done. Dad said to become successful in life try all things, be open to all things and you shall find your path. This is what I have been doing. But why am I so angry all the time? You don’t understand Mum, I know you care but you don’t understand! I can fight like you, I have fought like you, I have stood up to those who tried to challenge me, to defeat me Mum, I am like you! Grand Mum said put everything in prayer and God would answer. I have done that but why am I so angry all the time?
Timmy watched the streets and the children as they played, ignoring the dark and entertaining the night. I am a king in this city Mum you should see me dance. I have a following and girls love me. Then why do I change and become so destructive wanting to hit out at things? He stood up and placed his hands in his pockets, Mum would have calmed down by now. I shall go to my room when I enter the house and say nothing until tomorrow hopefully by then she should be calm and we can talk again.
Timmy walked behind the houses avoiding the excrement that had been left by dogs. He shut his senses to the smell as he retraced his steps to their home a mile away. Eventually he was in the neighborhood, his shoulders raised and moving more rhythmically, if anyone is watching, I am still a man.

Finding me...

When I got to the gates the first time and said who I was, it wasn’t whom I was but who I thought they wanted to hear it was. No doubt I got through, as this did not depend on me still though I remained lost. I could barely find the switch in this dark room. When I got to the gates the second time I said whom I was yet I wasn’t convinced of whether that would get me through. I made it though as it was fate that I was destined to. Still I wondered about that darn pest called doubt. Why on earth did I doubt myself, did I do something wrong?
When I got to the gates the third time around I said who I was and believed it from within. I got through as the two times before because it was fate. The difference is that this time from without and within I knew it was me bright lights and no doubt.
The truth is fate gets us through not by our power or our thoughts. However how we live is down to whom we believe we are from within and without. This is always a good place to start…

Stranger things have happened...

You could believe that the worse thing you could do is listen to the word of someone else, a stranger for that matter. They are not clairvoyant I hear you say. You could also believe that the worse thing you could do was take it for granted that you are not yet beyond your sell buy date, that your time hasn’t passed. I know where you are going with this, I hear you say, but I’m not convinced. Sorry, I’ve been there and done that.
Humor me this one time. Say you listen to this stranger and it works out as he says, I’m not saying it will but just say it does. You would be one step richer, one step closer to fulfilling your happiness. Or say you change your mind and accept that you may not have seen it all. That the trials, tribulations and the heartache are still just worthwhile for one more time to see things to the end. You just never know it may be your time, your place and your day.
There I say though, be wise but not in your conceit for that which has been is now and that which is yet to come has already been. If there is vanity in everything that we do then you just never know…

Get in line sinner I was here first!

He took the dictionary and smashed it hard on the table shattering the glass beneath and scattering the beads that lay in the saucepan. He turned, reaching and then looking for it. He was moving, snatching the phone and throwing it violently against the wall listening to the sound of breaking metal as the fury burned within his soul.
‘I am flawed,’ he whimpered, breathlessly. ‘I am indeed truly flawed.’
And then he was on the ground grabbing his head in his hands and locking himself away from life as he had come to know it. The bars in his despair where closer than he could have ever imagined. The nights were longer, the waiting nauseating.
‘I can do this I know I can. Yet I fail to see the purpose as I am already there. This voice makes no sense, it comes with a penance that leaves me distraught. How do I do it, where do I start?’
Endless questions, time afforded, reasons. Yes! Reasons! They where there when one needed them but still they were difficult to accept. A man can do good when it serves its purpose. A man would sacrifice when he sees the benefit of it. Still what lies in a man’s heart is what he will do when he faces the truth. This is the tell of his darkest hour. On this day he will make a prayer. It can go many ways but here is one way.
‘Dear Father, what does this sinner tell thee that you do not already know. I have failed to comprehend the wisdom that you have shown me through the years. I have failed to hear thy voice when confronted with the truth. I am my penance when my lust overcomes me. I fear my wrath because it controls me. I fear my folly because it is my disguise. Guide this servant to hope and thy faith. Guide this servant to the riches of thy bosom. When a man faces the storm he should be able to cry out. Call to his maker and father and say forsake me not for my burden overwhelms me. I am thy son and need this break father. Grant me this wish and make my joy holy. I cannot tell what lies in my heart because this sin that I commit is new to me too. One thing I can promise is to uphold my end as your grace desires. I am the fool with needless words in this prayer. I am the beggar that steals from your table. I am shameless in my search for victory. I wish for those things that I know only you can provide. I am lost father and seek you more than ever. I am lost father as I seek a path of escape. Make my burden lighter and remove sin from my shores. Make my burden lighter and take away resentment from my bones. I need your help father and your aid in my plans. I am dead to this world and hopeless in promises. I lie, cheat and steal with false promises. Help me dear God for I have fallen from thy grace. This is the prayer of the fool that kneels before thee. Help this great sinner to find peace and good shelter. I ask this through your son our Lord and savior. I beg this through our lord Jesus Christ, Amen.’

Word for word...

I am not held captive by the body that surrounds my existence. On the contrary I know very well that I direct and tell it what to do and how to think. This has been the case from its inception even though it took us a while to get to this place. Today it listens to me, applauds my reality. It agrees, that I cannot succumb to its whims because I have its greater interest at heart. In this partnership we share a bond. I say we must go through the valleys, some darker than others and then crawl through the thickened verges to emerge as one.
There have been those days when I have seen this body of mine collapse in a heap, broken and despondent and there are other times when I have seen it race through time. Neither occasion has changed me. Unlike this body of mine I do not age or become shaded by my experiences. Instead I learn more of its world so that I can help it more to succeed amongst its own. It’s a funny thing my job, I learn more to help that which uses me without its knowledge. It is not a fair partnership but I’m not complaining because I am rewarded far greater than it for my purpose and service.
I have to say that I am dumbstruck at times when I’ll be insisting to this entity of what will come to pass. I shall tell it repeatedly and be ignored with insolence. Eventually I will see it bawling or moaning as it does and I shall ask myself why it fails to heed the voice of one that has direct access to privileged information. In its world they say I cannot talk about myself this way because I am one with it and what we share should be as one. I’m done with all the niceties.
The fact is I am the life of this body that surrounds me. It will perish but I wouldn’t. I am not its doubts or its uncertainties. Neither am I the fears or failures its feels. It does all that by itself with something called a brain. That which beats rapidly in its chest cannot overcome who I am, for I cannot be physically exchanged. Neither can I be measured on a scale crafted by other bodies similar to the one I live in. My name is spirit and I am here for eternity whether in this reality or the other.

Ring Leader

All along I thought this inferred I was responsible. That what I had started, created would have a rippling effect and make others follow in my footsteps. It began with a phone call I received on a Saturday morning. It was simple,
‘You are needed,’ followed by ‘the client has asked for you.’ However nothing is ever that simple as it seems.
I gave this some thought and decided that this was my opportunity to ask for those that needed more than I. Their complaints had kept me awake for many nights as I tried to figure out a way for them. Now it was their turn to get something back.
‘I cannot help you, unless you pay for overtime. I have told you on several occasions that this is what the team needs. You have failed to listen. I can’t help.’
I had made my stand. I was taking the mantle, standing up for what I believed in and hopefully those that needed the most would profit from my bravery.
‘Wrong time and wrong place to be asking this of me. You must go to site. We can talk about this another time.’ Was the reply.
‘Perfect timing I guess since as you never listened before. If you need me I would need verbal consent that you would adhere to our terms, that’s the best I can do.’ I said the words through gritted teeth. They would taste like bitter tablets in his mouth but in due time he would know what I had done for him.
After an hour of hurling stones between shores our battle subsided and my wish was granted. I did not need the money but others did. I was setting a precedence that would make change inevitable. This was what was required to keep the boat afloat.
Two months later in a meeting when the crises had reached a level beyond comprehension, I was put to trial for my endeavors. Oh don’t get me wrong I had earned recognition. Even got promoted to the top but still some situations are just bad no matter what you do.
Anyway in the trial I stood firm, believing that I had stood up for what was right, justice for those that needed. And as every trial goes there have to be witnesses and mine were supposed to be the needful. Naturally I looked to them to follow my lead make us stronger and we shall all be winners. There was no one behind me. They had scampered behind excuses and let me rot before management. They had too much to lose, they had family and everyone else to take care of. It was better to be poor but keep the little they hung on to.
There was a lesson to be learned from this experience. Leadership was about sacrifice, knowing that you did what you did selflessly without personal profit because in the end there were no guarantees that your time or effort put in would be rewarded as expected.

Friend or Foe..

I will make you a better writer the Lord said to me. First I would take everything that matters away from you. This is not a test although it would seem like one. This would feed you emotion and compassion in your words and thoughts. When you feel helpless you will need love and kindness from others. When this passes your words would ring beauty and there would be peace.
Next I would take away the good health you so closely standby. This you relied upon, to do those things that come naturally. You will walk miles and feel like you are crawling. You will run lengths and feel like you’re drowning. As the weight of this shadow crosses thy path you will feel wisdom and add this to your words. Without this wisdom you cannot return to what you have written. You cannot read without feeling a sense of elation. This is my second treat to bring you to life. You have been punctured yet stand to be counted.
Now I would take something else that matters to you. This is the curse and disease you live by. I would take victory, your words and your vision. This will be your blindness and cross to bear. It is a crown of thorns that separates you from the others. It is at this point that you will turn to me and cry:
‘Father I hate my life and this wretched feeling. My ores are wrecked in this boat of despair. Give me a break and don’t make me forsake you. I am but human and need spirit to live.’
You will think you are at the end when these words escape you. Then I would answer your prayer as I always do:
‘Fear not my child I have reserved something for you. Your term is completed sooner than you think. I am not the enemy but a friend indeed.’

Indelible Vision...

The main area of the canvas was covered in a blood red stain. In the centre of it was a black object, somber, a lone human represented by a line. It looked like it had been striped off any sense of dignity, a lost soul of insignificance that had given up on the world around it. The artist had chosen the world around it to represent blood, a wilderness of uncertainty, penance in an Armageddon of sorts. The dark object a reflection of the self within and the darkness of the human succumbing to what it was surrounded by. He watched it with some interest.
‘This is how you see yourself?’ he asked.
‘This is how I feel,’ she replied.
He was silent, observing. He let his mind absorb the moment. We got to these places in life when we could see no outlet or instance for reprieve. We were drawn in by a force of loneliness, loss and illness. Our disease was life itself. We felt and saw darkness in every corner of the universe as we fed on it as much as it did on us. Unfortunately in the long run it had a wealthier appetite than ours and fed at our soul. This was eating at his friend’s and he could see it in her work.
‘There is no light in this room,’ he commented.
‘There can’t be when we get to this place. Light is our darkness, this is what we have,’ she replied.
‘Perhaps because we think this is all there is, this is all we know,’ he said silently as if he hadn’t heard her.
‘One with darkness doesn’t mean we are dark. It could be a place, a passage, a period in time,’ he continued.
‘Or it could be our eternity,’ she said.
‘I guess that would depend on if we controlled our own destiny,’ he replied.
‘You don’t think we can. I think we can make ours. This darkness can become ours if we choose it to be.’
‘Then my question to you would be how did we find it. No one chooses helplessness. It is when they get there that they discover it exists. We are a people that find places in life, peaks and troughs laid out in our path. By the same token that life can bring us into darkness it can also take us into the light.’
‘You are doing it again, you are playing with my mind.’
‘I am calling a spade a spade,’ he replied.
‘And I am telling you that my spade is darkness now,’ she replied.
‘No argument there. It’s just that the operative word in your argument would be now rather than eternity. No one knows that far ahead.’
There was silence as they returned to their thoughts. It was almost impossible to resolve arguments such as this. They resonated from centuries and represented two sides to a coin.
‘I hate you now more than anyone I know,’ she said quietly.
‘I know.’
‘But you give me hope,’ she smiled.
‘This I know too.’
‘What would you call it?’ he asked, he was curious.
‘I don’t know. I have very many things in mind but I can’t find the words. What do you think?’
‘Indelible Vision.’
‘Sounds deep, profound,’ she said.
‘It should do,’ he said ‘This is an important time in your life, let it mean something.’

Take me back...

Or should it be take me back if you can. Silence, I’m all that has been said and there’s nothing else you can do now but take me back and hope she believes you. Over and over, in your mind I lurk, I am one dish that is often served with purpose and intent. Fair enough you were provoked but was I necessary? Hear the headlines of my fanzine, watch your mouth before you hurt someone, think before you speak, keep silent if you have nothing worthwhile to say.
I sail over rooftops as people hear me from their bedroom when grown men scream at each other. I am the words from your lips that have made her frowsy and a slattern. Don’t you know that even the sybarite treads cautiously in my presence? Pounding your fists on your head won’t resolve this situation, I warned you about me, a rogue of sorts imprisoned until released to lash out at those I’m directed to. Even those who grasp pieces of me, stray fragments through thin walls shake their heads in disgust. Tone it down they say, that temper of his would kill him. When you were young you had all the excuse in the world now keeping me out there is letting the fox run riot in the pen.
Take me back and seek forgiveness, take me back and avoid retribution. Fury may have caused me and perhaps on this occasion I came out the wrong way but after me follows sorrow. I work better under different circumstances and I know for certain these aren’t them. Okay it was spontaneous, a rush of blood to the head, you were bitter and I was spewed. However when one suffers so does the other and when this happens I prefer being a thought than the real thing. So take me back if you can for I am the words you should never have said.

Temporal Enemy

My patience is your fury, my absence your state of ignorance as we have not become enemies by war but merely a season of time. Solitude seeks this path and for the victim the matter is personal. I bear more from this burden than you can ever imagine so do not let your bones wither in despair or the curtain drop in your wrath. We both want what’s good for each other as your journey is as important as mine.
Between places is uncertain and sometimes difficult to explain. Fend off the delirium temporal enemy when tough love becomes necessary. Take comfort that in our green veins runs the blood of he that knows best. He separates two to create one, as we become the pieces of a greater mystery. Our mirrors of perspective shadow our blindside, they are the flat foot that imprints the pavement; a raiment of distaste to the vulture that craves ignorance, a cherry on the pyramid to the flirtatious dove of wisdom. Your judgment of sorrows is but a sigh in consideration for if I fail the alpha I shall have no breath forever. Hate me my temporal enemy but love my spirit of faith and courage. This I call a fair trade of peace for we aren’t solely bound by the thoughts we inhabit as the deed is fulfillment.

Epistolary to the future

You cannot put a time and place to it. Perhaps the tears in your eyes are the giveaway that you still remember. The truth is no one tells this story better than you do. Do we really come of age, find out that our past was meant to be for our future to hold a purpose? Hard to explain the experience, for who knows what story they wish to tell until they try their hand at it.
There once was a time when my mission in life was to seek out those places and people from my dreams. Eventually I could hear myself whisper, ‘fait accompli.’ Only to be followed by, ‘Now what?’ It was as if finding these places and people brought me to a full stop. On this river road to nowhere one easily became aware that one wasn’t better than the world they had been given to be a part of. It was as if whatever one desired had already been provided for the time that they needed it. I began telling myself fervent is the nature of the man that ascends beyond the stars. I would listen to the heart within and it would give me the sounds of places I knew of. Suddenly I would be able to hear them from a distance in many volumes. Train lines overhead, a bright afternoon, tracks lain out miles ahead of me and all around me, would be this continuous pounding noise. Then would come the shadows as one crept beneath the tress. I would remember vividly because I was there. Inside this nest that rattled silently the sound of my own voice, ‘the landscape is now different you can’t return to the past because before you matters more than behind you.’
When this wouldn’t suffice, I’d ask myself what an epistolary to a future me would read. ‘It was eons ago but it seems only like yesterday to you. The things that you do not know of will become known unto you when you need to know of them. The times when you wait can be idle, distant and much alone as they are real. Do not fear for you shall connect the dots when you realize that you are still just I. It is amazing that when one has all that one has asked for one still needs more. You see it is a constant thing in one’s life to see if future would surpass the present and past. As I write to you with ignorance of who you may be, I have that which I do not know of that is why I seek that which is already mine. The truth to you my future is that I am the light in this darkness I created for myself yet I carry a light to see through it. I do not write to you old fellow for criticism of who you once were. Not my desire, for I never kept you away from the safe house you now inhabit. On the contrary we created it together, me looking towards you for inference because you alone are where we wished to be. No not me, I pencil affably because as time has revealed we still remain avid of learning about us. I shall leave you with one piece of advice. Keep those hands of ours real by trying them at different things for in my humble opinion it was the way I got to be you. If you call the future what you wish it to be it shall come to pass as you say. I celebrate alone today as you open my letters to you for if I knew this much then, it must be amazing what I know now. Take care, I know I am meeting me again where ever you may be and I am glad because I dearly hoped for this day to come to pass.’