As I turn inward, my energies focused on the barrier that I have thought long gone, the remnants of which a dismaying echo of what it once was. I need to erect that barrier once agin, faced with this onslaught.
Nobody knows Xavier Harker, and that is how it shall be. The lingering echoes of my own mind is a comforting silence, a solace that is no other. Let the ice surge again in all its silent rage and power, let the ice reign and cover over. The cold is my comfort!
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
I wonder
I wonder, what is it like being slim, because I have never been slim before. I wonder, what is it like being handsome, because I have never been handsome before. I wonder, what is it like being smart, because I have never been smart before.
And as I look at the stars high nigh in the heavens, and the trees standing for posterity, my troubles did seem trifle. Yet, what have I learnt today?
Sorrow has come to me, and it is welcoming, for I have missed it so. This nadir becomes me, and in achieving my ideals, the sadness becomes inevitable. Is this my fate? Should I continue? O Sadness, O Sorrow, let it wash over me, despite the little bits of happiness found around me, this inundation is my destiny. Is there no escaping my destiny, as my dreams become reality, in that oppressive place of work, where I have no illusions left, everything is ripped bare and stark for all to see, that the place is not the place for me.
He remains in that place, his yearning for another time, another place, remains elusive, rendering him frustrated, yet for all that is worth, he cannot leave. Another sad little fellow that seeks asylum in the traps of jokes that bear no trace of true happiness. Pitiable, yet deserving. He is the representation of all that is human; suffering to the ends of time, until the Lord claims him.
Xavier Harker is nigh.
And as I look at the stars high nigh in the heavens, and the trees standing for posterity, my troubles did seem trifle. Yet, what have I learnt today?
Sorrow has come to me, and it is welcoming, for I have missed it so. This nadir becomes me, and in achieving my ideals, the sadness becomes inevitable. Is this my fate? Should I continue? O Sadness, O Sorrow, let it wash over me, despite the little bits of happiness found around me, this inundation is my destiny. Is there no escaping my destiny, as my dreams become reality, in that oppressive place of work, where I have no illusions left, everything is ripped bare and stark for all to see, that the place is not the place for me.
He remains in that place, his yearning for another time, another place, remains elusive, rendering him frustrated, yet for all that is worth, he cannot leave. Another sad little fellow that seeks asylum in the traps of jokes that bear no trace of true happiness. Pitiable, yet deserving. He is the representation of all that is human; suffering to the ends of time, until the Lord claims him.
Xavier Harker is nigh.
Friday, April 3, 2009
They passed me by, with disinterested stares, paying no heed to the drifting figure, who bears no recognition of his surroundings. His mind, delibilitated, memories and the mind receding until all that is left is the husk, a shambling husk. Slowly, slowly, the delibilitation may prove fatal, as the husk shambles towards his death, ironically a welcomed prospect.
How can one survive such an onslaught? Is it what I want? I am losing my language, constantly under barrage by the mesolect and the basilect. It is horrendous, and I wonder how long would it be before I too, succumb to the hideous linguistic environment.
How can one survive such an onslaught? Is it what I want? I am losing my language, constantly under barrage by the mesolect and the basilect. It is horrendous, and I wonder how long would it be before I too, succumb to the hideous linguistic environment.
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