(cri.... cri...) the sound of an unconfortable silence about to be broken....
Driven by the madness of the past few hours, I am here, am I not!?
Remembering a good friend's column, aka www.memory_hole.blogspot.com, I went to bed at a most unusual hour, the ever so common 21.30. After my needed time of rest, at 3.30 am, my body was impeld out of bed towards the computer, just because it had nothing better to do.
The memories of Sherlock Holmes, lay silent on the ground as I dwell with the courage to go to the second half of a Study in Red.
OH How I wish I could become a writer? I find it so hard to cultivate good reading habits, so necessary to increase my vocabulary and help expand my grammatical skills. I am truly convinced that by reading I would indulge myself to a higher cognitive level.
How does one set up a perfect mood for that, particularly in this century, where I can run to so many different hobbies with the mere gesture of pressing a single button. TV, Internet, Music, Radio, anything at the will of my finger tips, or quite simply, just laying about like a big lug.
Truthfully, I escape towards the internet more often than I probably should. Most of the times, with the hope of finding some meaning to all this.
Ups, my mind escapes, must catch it while I can.
Warning: Severe demeanor loss.
Meanwhile frenetic creatures rise from their sanctuaries and drive or are driven towards a Morlock' processing station where they spend 8 hours of life behind some confined space, and afterwards they are catapulted back to their sanctuaries, without any worries except for the fact that today's hunger of a vampire society has been satisfied. Still, there is nothing to be sorry about, after all tomorrow they get to do it all over again. The good thing about all this, is we as so called creatures of reason, don't give a damn. OH yes, we talk about how uncomfortable we are in our jobs and in our place in the world... These words, however, are spoken with as much conviction as that of a junior sized flame trying desperately to survive in the South Pole, with the iron will of turning all the icy blocks into vapor. A kinky remark for all those like myself who appreciate a nice sauna... But all this is totally besides the point, mainly because I don't think I have a point, although it's been said that I had one. I remember, in one given occasion, being able to point one or two spots that were cruising naked by the atmosphere.
How pointless is this remark?
I would like to write, indeed. What should I write about?
I don't have the slightest idea!
I usually like to rumble on about how beautiful and nice people are. I write lots of emails, most of them never see any answer in return... I guess that most of those who receive them are too busy being drained by their options in life - such as The Morlockian Vampire Lost Empire of Today. That is why I created this blog, a brave attempt to be read by myself, also to reach out to my dead cat, who usually would fall asleep anytime I decided to communicate with him in his own terms.
Meowing was never my favorite language among the felines, or any other kind of species by that matter...
The experience of death never seemed quite as appealing as right about now... No gun is in sight, no pills. Oh damn. All the will to inflict auto-destruction is gone now. Maybe some other time, when some lunatic ragging behavior strikes me down, once again.
I take a little time now to recall memories. Ah sweet memories.
Memory lane one.
A snow fall in Windsor Canada.
Woods in Windsor.
Walking in some suburban woods, while snowflakes gently adventure themselves, propelled by gravity's influence, leading them in a collision course towards whatever they my find. In that day, I was one of their final destination points.
I am not alone, in this walking venture among the trees, I recall a friend who is with me. A very dear friend with a very sweet smile.
The memory stops, sorrow takes over now.
The Snow is Beautiful!
Oh, you poor minds that dared coming here to this blog and read all these lost sentences, lost of purpose to you and with so much meaning to me.
Ah Sweet MADNESS, that helped Hamlet killed his mom; King George to Lose America, now helps me stay alive in an insane world. Well, nothing quite makes sense, if you see it with reason.
WHY DO WE IGNORE FRIENDS WHILE TREATING THEM AS FOES?
Why do we have foes in the first place?
What's the purpose of having enemy's at all? Destruction is such a waste.
Why do we have to be afraid of all the other people that are running lose!?
Example of new born madness
Set of this action - any place you like on Earth
Characters - People we meet,
Tag line - Opinions created
Too fat, too short, too skinny, ugly clothes, bad breath, too cocky, too something else different from all that I want it to be. So I will grant it with some sort of prejudice that I don't know how to explain it, but I am conviced that I should explain it... So I am now convinced that an opinion based by the bias nature of appearance is nothing less than the truth.
Oh, why deceive myself, I do this all the time, and I am submitted to the same scrutiny by any individual that walks by me with a fictious smile, in mad period of his or her life.
Friends..... That is a whole different story... We create a buffer of tolerance for them, and we let it fill or empty as it suits our wits.... So patience controls our relations, and we define a particular time for all..... We even have an auxiliary buffer for this buffer of tolerance, helping us to walk about, smiling at every one, while we have the secret craving for a fully loaded bazooka that could act as a mini-gun and help us destroy these once called friendly creatures into little butterflies of dust.
BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLIES....
Then reality knocks and we realize that we love them all, and we are so happy that there is no such thing as a fast shooting heavy fast-reload type bazooka and we can go up to our friends and enjoy with them the glories of past, present and future....
My god, I must be totally mad....It must be because it's morning, and I am typing while I shake with cold... and Portugal is supposed to be one of the warmest Countries in EUROPE! AH!
Give me storms any day.
Free time to be Mad... To do nothing... To study about the prospects of a near future... To make an insurance for life with all the ludic behavior that I have left in my eschizofrenic bones.
SO MANY FRIENDS.......
LONELINESS CALLS FOR ME
ALL OF YOU ARE BUSY, with your occupations and your time "well" spent among the Morlock Emporium. Feast your lives on the waste of a lifetime achievement award that never comes.
Solution for this pessimistic painting of today, I have none. Except perhaps, oblivion... These, my words of despair, are nothing more than a figment of a fragile imagination, lost in so many trivial ambitions that have gone wrong. Hint: the walk in the snow with a beautiful human that choose to let me fall in the cracks of my own built misery.
IN IRONY SAKE... I have no true misery to show for... I live, I eat, I have fun... I am having fun right now.......can you picture it!!!
FOOL FOOL!
I just let it out, that is it, I like to let all these emotions explode, and create a public blog that few will even care to read. OH MADNESS OF HONESTY!
See this as a hobby, a way to do therapy with my own words. My last consultant doesn't reply back, may be because I ate his liver with some mashed potatoes.. Nah, I guess he is just too busy in helping others...Memo to all, he was very good to me! I just miss talking to him...
The hard thing about having a bonafide conversation is honesty, after all you can pass by a crazy madman, if you decided to tell the truth. Truth should therefore be selective, instead of being mentioned all the time, for conscious purposes.. No conscience today can expain these.
One should have private worlds to indulge oneself into honesty... Where can I find... to thyself be true?
Dialogues..
I was never quite good at writing dialogues.
Once, many years ago, I co-wrote a play for school, whose dialogues were... Well, let me just say that no words seem to be fitting in describing them. Although, we managed to be placed 3rd according to a jury bribed by us, that had to evaluate us among 3 plays in total... nah I am kidding they were about 20, all together. However, it was lots of fun doing it, even if my guts were always being tested for inner strength, just before the curtain opened and I had to make my grand opening speech (3 or 4 lines long...).
Writer's block... humbagh!
Free time madness... Rubbish!
Heart break!? How long does it take to swallow that and go to hell? Quite a lot, but that is not the problem today.
Today's recurrent pessimism brings me to a lack of emotional purpose. A feed of fears and loathing for all that is and all that was related with me life..
Knowing, in my heart, that all is much better than it seems, and that life is as it is because the way things are, is the way things are.
Memory lane my foot...
We decide which memories we put in the box.
The question marks in the past are placed by us along the way, as land marks of situations and events that we don't quite understand. Closures (thank you Adam for the term lesson) that never took place.
Sure its fine to blame it one somebody else, or to assume a downfall attitude towards life, as the little unlucky man has to walk among the plains of sorrow. (Just because he wants too!)
Everything as a purpose, even when we feel a stab aching pain, after being stabbed, even that has a purpose. Obviously, our body is resenting the fact that it was just pierced by a foot long chainsaw, and unexplainly calls for some little assistance, a band-aid should do it!
Powered by the instantaneous motivation of a survival instinct we help ourselves to carry on.
A vision of a talk after a close encounter with a cutting instrument:
"OH DARN! I just been stabbed by life"
"Don't hurry, your life urges you to go on"
"Why?"
"Because it feels like it"
"But it hurts like hell!"
"No it doesn't it"
"How do you know?
"Wait and see!!!" - The little devil grins as he disappears from my vision.
OH wonder! Oh joy! These words are all that remain from a decision to write, in my free time!
Should I keep them to myself, before submitting them to a world blog!
Ah what the well! I don't keep skeletons in my closet, they are all here with me, dancing, since the Halloween of 1978, when Mr. Michael Myers helped released them with a small axe.
Word of advice!?
Just enjoy the thrilling life... It shifts direction unexpectaly
Nothing should be taken for granted, but when something does come, enjoy it to the fullest! Absorb it, take it as one... BE THE EXPERIENCE... Excel for all that is sacred in this life... to be happy is sacred priority number one!
Listening: Silence
Reading: Memories of Sherlock HOLMES !!! AHAHAHAH I SHOULD!
Seeing: DEAD PEOPLE ALL THE TIME! Humm! I must stop working at the coroners lab!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment