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| july 2008 |
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| In the Dreaming 10 | 12:48am monday, 28th july |
In the dreaming, a million-eyed beast gazed upon my dying.
In the dreaming, stars blinked out, and the moon became red as blood.
In the dreaming, I saw myself go out the door, and decided not to follow.
In the dreaming, fire danced at my fingertips, and vanished with a thought.
In the dreaming, I flew as fast as light, realizing why all became black.
In the dreaming, the mirror reflected only the shadow of me.
In the dreaming, all meaning was clear, but could not survive my waking.
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| Helicopter | 5:27am thursday, 24th july |
Guess what this is? Yes, a toy: a model of an H13 Sioux helicopter! 
Click on this to get a larger version. I found out about it some time ago while googling myself (heh) and finally broke down and bought one from eBay. These were the ones used in the Korean War, if you can believe that, the ones you may have seen in the show MASH. Strange the synchronicities of the world.
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| Scars | 4:05am monday, 21st july |
I still bear the scars of my past. Perhaps you might not even think of it as such: my heart still jumps when I see a police car. This is from having once been a small time drug dealer back in college, when the paranoia was at a high. I still watch them carefully, out of the corner of my eye, until they pass. There is no reason for them to bother me any more. And from the madness, whenever there is some surprising noise at the periphery of my senses, the psychotic switch as if triggered so easily begins to poison my thinking: of strange things that the noise might portend, to my immortal soul, to what my being must be, to what the future must hold, to what the past must translate to. And though it’s better than it was in the past, little things don’t go away. I will be forever twisted, if slightly.
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| Life | 1:07pm thursday, 17th july |
So here’s what’s going on with me, personally. Don’t think I’ve done this in quite some time. I’m still plugging away at my new business, though I have yet to produce a working prototype. Hopefully soon, as the money’s going to run out at some point. Every time I think I have it, something new pops up. But’s still all good on that front.... About the girlfriend: she lost all her money in a bad investment, then she moved out of England, and is currently in New Zealand (I think). I think she might have broken up with me, and I haven’t heard from her in more than a month, so suxx0rs there. But you know, all things happen for a reason, even if that reason is merely to make you stronger. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? So there you go, a one-minute update on my life. Cheers.
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| sickness | 1:22am sunday, 13th july |
i believe the heart must break a thousand times to grow wise
the dawning small, slowly to understand just how the pain must flow
to cure the sickness of the soul which yet longs for foolish things
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| Mete | 6:42pm wednesday, 9th july |
Perhaps I am mete for all the challenges that face me. Not that I deny it is Christ who saves me, but not to be so desperate and inane. Shall it be so, that I can be one who has overcome his own self? There comes very sparingly in a lifetime: a sense, a small hum within the soul of the sort, “I can do this”. It passes quickly, and the day’s stresses come and go like strong winds; but I have experienced that small epiphany, more priceless than the glow of gold, a high beyond all intoxicants’ effects, even if the sensation is humble, and fleeting. I had been a long time down, and perhaps finally the world is evening out, as I strike out on bold adventures, and I find that I can do what the most daring in me attempts: yes, I can do this. What do you know?
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| strength | 2:19am saturday, 5th july |
i am arighted by the forces that continue me
inspiration like a candle lit in an eternal dark
whispers among the stones that i awaken
(nowhere do the spiders of causation return)
the rains remember in me how to be alive
to run thunderhearted through the streets
believing one day to shed the world: burning
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| quiet | 4:28pm tuesday, 1st july |
in the quiet in between moments, where time is forgotten
we touch the void where sinks the sadness in our fingertips
a dreamless stare as if to where the soul vanishes at our horizon
but even lost in an infinite null, if we are very very still:
we can hear the smallest of sparrows fall, and be like God
we can love someone at random, make the world that smaller
and hope as if it all made fantastic sense, so very obviously
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