We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, yellow submarine...   -The Beatles





A part of me has died. I am swamped by the waves of mediocrity. I struggle to revive myself, but the inertia borne of long-standing conformity prohibits me. There shall be retribution. One day...


If to the fleeting hour I say
'Remain, so fair thou art, remain!'
Then bind me with your fatal chain,
For I will perish in that day.
'Tis I for whom the bell shall toll,
Then you are free, your service done,
For me the clock shall fail, to ruin run,
And timeless night descend upon my soul.
    - Goethe, Faust, the bargain with Mephistopheles


Sift through my mind...

Arrow of Scarlet Ruin
    accompany the wilderness tracker Anuis Drake Scarletarrow, Night Caste Exalted, as he travels through the world of Creation and rediscovers his past

Quiet Times with God
    a page for daily bible reflection

Stages of Rebirth...

Author's note: all the artwork on this page is mine, unless otherwise stated. I don't believe in copyrights so go right ahead and use em. Just tell me about it though, and try to be sparing on linking, snapfish might flag me for exceeding bandwidth.
   

<< August 2004 >>
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To blogly go where no one has gone before...

a josephine hopeful wanderer
aileen ... my light...
anatalia ana the pooh
andrea the dog pound
anj purveyor
ayen boulevard avenue
ben stormwrite
carmen chainreaction
cha absolutely not
cyril a beautiful mind
dara strangefire
gen every hour...
gyll xhybrid17
halcyon contradiction
ivy life as i live it
joy backspaced
kalag kalag hell is made of...
lady lazarus poetic art
maybelle i'm bored
myla twisted solitude
moks silent screams...
neng ... alleged narcissist
owen the stew chronicles
ramonster 11am...
romel soulsearching
sam chronicles of sam...
sancho sancho benavides
sancho the mad tea party
shiro journeys
sj lugaw madness club
t. tulala-tulele
toi luna
tony outside looking in...
zane fell out of love...



Call me Ishmael... or rather, call me when there's something I can contribute. I like a good book anytime; over a cup of coffee, while I'm in the shower, while I'm chasing the cat to get its tail between the jaws of a laundry clip. I believe in socialism, I believe in capitalism. I believe in exorcism, I don't believe in demons. I am a walking contradiction of sorts, always looking over my shoulder just to make sure there's no dentist around. You would call me friend, I will call you by your name, and only when I need you. I believe in the rationality of man, but only when it's convenient. There are times when i paint, just before I slice the onions to sauté. I spend my time hanging upside down on the sofa, with a good book in hand. I never stop thinking, except while I'm sleeping, and even then, I still do. I hate sleep. It's Time's ultimate thief. But don't remind me of that when I'm sleepy. I was an atheist, now I'm a Christian. I'm an Objective Realist, but I believe in God. I've met Him and took Him to eat at a gourmet burger shop down the corner. It's gone now. I fed Him fries and a large Coke. He fed me with Life. I don't believe in religion. It's slave morality, the moral code of the looters. I believe in relationship; and reality. I will ask you to walk with me, so that you'd notice my pink Chuck Taylor's, and then I'd leave you if you cannot keep up. I'll give you something to help you on your way though, but only if you ask. You'll call. I won't look back. I never look back; except when there's the threat of a dentist. Call me Ishmael... call me tomorrow.


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Monday, August 02, 2004
bedbugs...

i let a sultan into my room the other day. he and his harem of female cockroaches snuggled up to me on the bed as i was reading a story of a young princess kidnapped by an evil horde, waiting for the rescue promised by her knight in not so shining armor. i told them the story.

listened the sultan, enrapt in the web of the yarn that i spun, as they went with the knight through countless adventures, slogging wearily through mud and mist, traversing many leagues of arid land, to be opposed at every step by hordes of orcs and fae and whatnot.

his harem was mildly amused. they roamed and chittered among the sheets, clacking their mandibles in appreciation of that sordid tale, and raising their antennae in indignation when they learned of the princess' demise - oh no, not a death as we would have it. it is the death of her soul, which comes from the surrender to the evil lurking within their midst.

and the story was finished. the sultan bowed in appreciation of my time, and i bowed in appreciation of his ears. he was the only one who would listen. i was the only one who would talk to him. i led him out of the room, to go back doing what it is that cockroaches usually do. at the door we bowed to each other again. he touched his antennae to my forehead, and scampered away.

there goes my friend, i thought, and closed the door to go to sleep.

Out of the ashes of bennet at 08:38 pm

anj
August 5, 2004   04:54 PM PDT
 
...creepy crawling arts of find. abhoring to them...they are merely blind. the sundry of these whimsical beings. their world devoid of prejudice... they, never conspiring. you will find in them, fateful companions, as 'he' has with sultan.
tagabukid
August 3, 2004   01:34 PM PDT
 
tale within a tale...whatta yarn, one pesky mosquito here also got entrapped voluntarily, that is..hehe. 'tell us more tales,' begged the chinito...errr.. mosquito pala.
 

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