Sunday 6 July 2014

Seasoning; reasoning.

Certain reasons require seasonings of epic proportions, which leads to failure of even bigger proportions.

We put the brakes on, halt them forever, and never look back. If there's anything you should exalt, it is Faith. Surely.

Faith is a bloody powerful energy. Churning, churning, churning.

Thursday 3 July 2014

Multiple Singularities.

He walked the aisle of works of architects, pondering hard and deep about the avalanche of endless problems, taking in polluted death air, deciphering manly situational behaviour, ripping facades apart and throwing friction into pits of no return. He dropped to his knees, the skies a strong magnetic force. His palms clasped together in an endless prayer, his heart burns for responsible answers and significant responses. 

The force tugged him skywards, rapid elevation in one direction. An expansive scenic view of little multi-bodied centipedes, scrawling in and out of tiny white blocks. The cityscape was beyond words can describe. For a minute, he allowed himself the luxury of taking all of it in. 

And then in struck him.

It struck him hard that the world has been nothing but in a sorry state of rapid disintegration. A disunited community of stitched up facades. The pale faces of living beings maimed by the central god of greed and freed. Individualistic mindsets living in a disoriented dystopia. The city lives for its own, the rural stinks of grotesque leftovers. The taller white blocks the epicentre, the shorter ones standalone as the first wall of defence. The rich pockets leather, the poor carries plastic. And within each community, selfish little pathetic beings living for themselves, fuelled by the need for greed. Possessions bounded by large metal boxes, money kept in bank for safekeeping. Sensitivity arouses by the second and the rainbows hardly ever appear. 

They exist, yes they do. They damn right do. But they exist in multiple singularities, living for their own, disregarding the obvious fact that they are One.

Then selfishly, he was thrown down to fend for himself once again.

One. Want. Want One. Need One.

Wednesday 2 July 2014

Sidewalk

Throw up your arms and look to the skies. The composition of golden stars sprawled in the death of the chill. 

A man paces up and down the sidewalk. 

It gets colder and colder, the temperature an aggrevating hit of painful sharp blasts. The flowers wither in helplessness; the air migrates fickle-mindedly. The rich retreat back to their shelter, their children tucked in bed and fast asleep. 

The man took his final fall. Motionless and ready to submit. 

It never ends. Never.