Escape

How can I ever escape from the tormenting voice that is my own? What I have ever given to myself is only the sorrow and the sadness burning amidst the ashes of my mistakes. My eyes are blinded by the visions of my brains. What can my hands give me now? They are useless, catching and holding on to my heart's fantasies. Empty words, the breath of my soul, are the only thing I have left. Will they make their presence known to you or be smothered by the reality? How long more must I suffer? Why must I suffer?

Tire

The course of nature ebbs and flows. Where it goes and why it is so nobody knows. The ode to life with burning fires turns to death. Where the waves once moved, the sand now drifts.

sf

But soon, very soon, return will the wind to the lilting lyrics of the foaming fields, loftier than the wings of hope and grander than the foundations of the world.

The tragedy of my life

People usually underestimate how much I know. The more I study, the more I discover how much I have already known. At the end of the day, all the roads lead to Rome.

A resolution cast in stone

All these years I always do what I like or like what I do. I love or hate the same person, protect or destroy the same thing. I am benign or malicious, generous or stingy, friendly or hostile. I walk the thin line between what is vile and what is benevolent. I always mean what I don't say, which also means that I say what I don't mean. I am the master and the slave of myself, for if I am the master then who shall be the slave? I look the sun when it is raining inside, I always smile and my tears only I can see. But always better the devil that you know for are you sure you see the light of an angel and not a seraph's flames? My self spreads like a bird flying afield, I am poles apart. Yet, it is what makes me the same. For I always try to be like Christ, the Alpha and Omega. For I always want to live like Gautama Buddha, venturing to the extremes to find the Middle Way. For I learn the teachings of Aristotle and Confucius, of Pythagoras and Plato. No one shall ever teach me anything because I learn everything from everyone. Don't ever call me "you" for I am me, myself and I. Even that is constantly changing. And so cast in stone is my resolution.

Thoughts at the edge of time

At the edge of time
A question fills my mind
Like a fire that burns.
Like a road that turns,
The lines in my hands,
Which way shall they bend?

I have sanctified,
I have demonised
Ones that I like,
Ones that I love,
Ones that I care,
Could it be fair if I apologise?

At the break of dawn
Of a year,
In joy and in pain,
Could I be born again,
Warm like a ray of light,
And lively like a drop of rain?

For I want to vivify
Like a tree wants to give life
All my hopes, dreams, and fondest ties.
Forget all my hurts, pains, and lies.
And let the wounds heal
To turn back the hands of time.

Hannibal Lecter I

I read about Hannibal Lecter today, his entire story. Such is a sophisticated, cultured, and passionate man for a cannibalistic serial killer. Is that civilised manner a mask for his violent and brutal darker self? Or is it the opposite: this seemingly horrendous and terrifying act of slaughtering other humans and feasting on their flesh a mere disguise for a more human, more delicate character; leaving it a mystery and a challenge for others to see the facts behind the reality? I am not sure? Who am I to judge anyway? Maybe he exemplifies both.

i

They say it is a dog-eat-dog world outside. But people won't prey on your flesh; they will take away your identity, your senses and logic, your face and faith, your soul and spirit until you are just as mindless and myopic as them. Mindless and lifeless. Aren't they the same? It's just that one is more deceptive than the other. Is it true that reality can be more misleading than fiction? Ironically, I think it is.

i

I know I should not be saying this. I am still a student.

Phoenix

In Latin the word Phoebus means the sun. Phoenix is a bird of flames. It is no coincidence that both of them represent the eternity of life and the ultimate victory of life over death. Could the phoenix somehow be an animation of the sun, a projection of the burning eye of the heavens into a lively and scintillating creature? Maybe yes. Maybe no. But I think they are related.

However, the sun has always been regared as a symbol of an inevitable death, the fate that each and every life has to face, for there will be the day when the sun no longer rises. And there will be the day when the flames will consume the living bird. The end of the world? La fin du monde? Maybe. Or that dreadful picture of destruction could be intepreted in a more positive way to simply depict a change, a new beginning at the end of all things. Such is not an experience of a lifetime. Restitution, restoration, revival, a new lease of life, etc, we have all sorts of ways to describe it everytime we go through the process of changing ourselves. Starting this blog is the pastures new on to which I have moved. Freed, at last, are the flames of the thoughts in my head lest them consume my mind.

Help me, trusted friends, to make this blog not a blockage but a passage for me to embrace a more balanced life.