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.
   

<< June 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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Wednesday, June 23, 2004
ayala dreamin...

i dream of the stars. i used to say that astronomy was my first love of all the sciences (mark how the word's spelled). i used to spend countless unslept nights staring at the emptiness beyond my window, reaching out as if to pluck them away from the dreary firmament of their home. of course, they elude me.

it is not often that one remembers the act of dreaming like a child. one perhaps, remembers the dreams; a romp through SM toyland, swashbuckling through space like Kirk and his compadrés, a Big Mac meal later in the day - but not the act itself. never again can one maintain the naiveté and curiosity needed to propagate such an action; nor even to recognize the capacity for it. when one does remember, they either shiver or entertain a fuzzy feeling all over. the reactions vary, but ultimately one cannot help but feel a little silly. one cannot be silly in this world anymore. we just can't afford it. not in our thinking, nor in our actions - our work, life, loves. and when we subscribe, we lose that state of mind where we thought that sitting down beside the windowsill with your eyes to the stars was somehow important.

we have lost the capacity to dream.

Out of the ashes of bennet at 07:19 am

Shiro
July 11, 2004   05:14 PM PDT
 
i know what you mean. and yet not being silly diminishes your soul somewhat.... doesn't it?
 

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