Posts Tagged ‘random writings’

Heaven be her name – The Story of Destiny

I keep thinking I’m making headway in this thing called life but then the waves come crashing down.

I come up for a breath, feeling the blessed air coming into my lungs, but there, again, the monster waves hit me, hard, pushing me to the bottom, scraping my body against the coral reef, where am I?

Nowhere, going fast, up one minute, kick to the face, down, counting, 1, 2, 3, do I wanna get up again or stay down for the count?

The bets are coming in, I’m staying down, but nope, my dumb ass gets back up.

Why?

I’m a winner!

I laugh at that, my inner demon does, I’m no winner, I’m a big fat loser!

I’m trying to stay alive, well enough, I think, until I look in the mirror, standing there, bloody, broken, ready to give in.

“I love you!” she, the one in my corner, even though I’m insane.

I keep going because and for her.

“What’s her name?”

Destiny.

Heaven be her name….

How I love thee, in a previous life even,
I whisper thy name during those times,
I think I can not go on,
There you are,
A shimmering light against the encroaching darkness…

The dragons invade my sleep, the crazy, hello insanity, you try to keep me sane, I am slipping into madness…..hello dear friend, how are you this fine and wonderful evening?

I am dead inside.

Opening old and new wounds!

What is reality?

A dream placed into real life?

Is that the definition?

Dear one, I shall keep walking till the end, tomorrow shall never come!

They say you can’t go home again, that time changes everything,
The life, the place you once knew is no longer the same.

Standing in the stream, waiting, eyes to the distant horizon, watching, hoping,That one day, it will come back to you, but the stream keeps moving forward, away,
And nothing stays the same.

What will happen, no one knows, the past is past; tomorrow never comes and all we have is today,
To feel; sadness, happiness, tears and laughter, standing there, watching the sky, intense blue.
Life goes on even when you don’t want to.

The hardness, the pain, lets us enjoy the light, the happiness that shall come someday, hopefully soon.
That which does not kill us, makes us stronger, so the old saying goes.
Some days, we feel like sitting down, never to arise again, to feel the hard ground, to grasp the dirt into our fingers, to close our eyes and never awake, last breath escaping from our lips, rise to Heaven, or fall to Hell.

Blackfoot

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The river moves onward and forward, as we should, in everything.  Those who have gone forth will be with us till the end of days, forever and ever, here in our heart, in our soul, and we keep on moving as they would want us to go forward, though, as has been said by better men than I, it can be hard, tempted to lie on comfortable grass and never rise again.

I keep moving, forward, onward, her in my heart, in my soul, the blue skies above me, high cliffs, so high they touch the sky, to my side, the lane moving forward, ever forward, the direction I shall go till the end.

 

Depression sucks!

Trying to get rid of it, to become happier, sucks even more.

Walking down the road, thinking about life, I begin to realize, I’ve lost my soul, bit by bit, not sure when, depression settling into its place.

I think about life, sober, not now though, I’ve been drinking cheap beer, which gets me thinking even more, realizing what life is about.

Sober, I walk down the road, thinking about life, the beginning, way before I became an adult, I go back into time, to a “better” place.

Is this time, right now, the better time, going farther down the hill, will life get worst? Better?

Depression sucks, it makes you look at life in darker light.

I try to get happier, which is tough, when the negative outranks the positive.

Will life get better?

People say so.

Others say no.

I try to keep positive, but it’s tough, the mind starts to think about other things, the negatives outrank the positive.

Then other days, the positive outranks the negative, those days are the best, I skip down the road, singing a song of happiness and light.

Good times.

The bad times disappear.

Right now, I am depressed, for no reason. The mind goes into the dark places, nothing cheers me up, even the beer doesn’t, the booze flows through me and disappears into the air.

Life sucks, move down the hill, the world keeps punching me in the guts, hard and with no love.

Then the next day, life kisses me with passion and love, embraces me and I love it.

Then back to bad.

Kick, punch, hate me, then the next, embrace, up, down, I hate it, I love it…

I wish life would make up its mind, to embrace me, love me, it sucks when it hates me.

I walk through the darkness, eyes wide open, mouth singing songs never meant to sing.This is life, from the bottom up, down inside, over and out, life is about everything.
I awake, breathing, eyes wide open, once again, singing about life.

There is a road, leading up into the sky, to grasp the sky, to breathe the air free.
We are nothing, we are everything, this is it, eyes seeing, mind knowing.
We are everything, we see it all, ran to the end, walked till our feet bleed, we are we.

Were are you sister? Were are you brother?
Were are you my dear wife, gone to heaven forever and ever?

The body is dying, the soul is fleeing, this is the end, my only friend.
Where are you? Gone to battle, to find your meaning in life, to find that which means the most?

Money, sex, drugs, everything, nothing is worth the end of it all.
I shall meet you at the hill, the huge tree snaking its way over us, grasping us, holding us.

Death become us.

Where do we go?

Here?

There?

Everywhere?

I love you dearest one, till we meet again, I am here, there, everywhere.

Singing,

Laughing,

Running,

Falling,

I am alive, and well, breathing forever, till the end of time.

We shall become one with the alive.

 

THE MATRIX IS REAL – So reads the sign at the beginning of the Universe.

At the end, it reads, abandon all hope ye who enters here…

Except the e at the end has dropped off back in the early 70s, so now the sign reads, abandon all hope ye who enters her.

The old gods still snicker when they see it.

The city lights are low, barely see able, my eyes are mere slits as I move across the alley way.

This is the Matrix, Version 19.0.

The robots move through the air, looking for the humanoids, disconnected from the Matrix, but connected by the line that keeps me moving, sweeping the Net looking for the data, modifying it, recreating the illusion, night time into day, death into life.

The Matrix police scan for these changes, always looking, scanning the frequencies, looking for the small changes I dilute here and there.

The City is blight, dead stoners still jacking in and dropping in.

Dr. Timothy Leary would be proud, acid heads in the virtual world, skimming the data, looking for a sweet hit, this was the world meant to be, dry grey, changeable by a sweep of the hand, William Gibson Neuromancer, the sky was gray, the color of a TV off a station and I was flying through it all.

Godless angels worshiped the magic of information at 10,000 words a second.

I was sitting at the temple of the Net, the Matrix leader, Google to the oldbies now called, THE ONE. 

I searched the Net looking for my dead lover. She was still online, even though her meat flesh had died in 2012.

The Matrix came alive with the sounds of information, ones and zeroes, here, there and everywhere.

She had died, her soul was still hitting chat rooms, Dark Angel had talked to her last night.  It was a beautiful life, colors beyond colors.

I didn’t think I could catch her, but I kept trying, running through the Matrix, one step ahead of the Police.

“It’s a sin!” they would say, robotronic voice echoing through the net.

“Oh Father, forgive me, for I need to syn, through this Hell. I do not understand….” I prayed the Satanic prayer to the Net.

I wanted my lover back, even if just in Cyber form, I could talk to her, one more time, a kiss in virtual sin.

Vatican.com was pulling fast towards me. “This is not acceptable!! God does not forgive you!”

I did not care! I was there, with her, soft kisses, moving into sexual over drive, we twisted into each other. The Matrix became us…

Walking down the road, eyes to the ground, spirit to the Heavens,I keep moving and the breath still ushers forth, for I am alive,
Alive in this world, alive to see another day, another sunrise, sunset,
Walking forward and onward, feet to the ground, arms in the air,
This is life, perfect, not perfect, a great life in harmony of everything.

Life is moving, kissing, loving, seeing, hearing, back and forth, breath in, out,
Life is here, there, everything, nothing, the gaze of everyone from inside my head,
A kiss, loving in the fields of grass, embrace, night time, day time, every time, against the wind,
Moving forward through space, into blind open sight.

The time is near to contemplate everything, Gods listen as I scream into the dark,
Tears rolling down my eyes,
This is life,
Happiness,
Sadness,
Death and life, embrace into everything.

Good,
Bad,
Indifference,
Pain,
Ecstasy,
Everyone dies.
It’s okay…

Mad men dream of electronic sheep, dancers in cold rooms making up medicines for the war raging on inside their minds.

“Take your pills! We are watching you!” they say, smiles, braided hair, crisp white smocks, mocking us who now sit on the edge of our beds and color our legs with the blood of our own demise.

Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine, I am living for my sins, trapped in a shell, thrown into a dark corner, giving the daily bread but no wine, no butter, just bread, the water spilled on the floor, drowning the city of the dust, the damned, the world outside.

They try to reach me, understand, but they cannot.  We cannot understand that which we cannot experience first hand, we cannot get inside your mind, even if you want to let us, we stand outside, in the cold, wind blowing, the dreamless sleep taunting us with peeks inside but not revealing.

The medications are just to appease your need to believe we are helping you help yourself.

“Take this! Take this!” the mocking bird mocks and cries out. “If you don’t, there’s always THE TREATMENT!”

Treatments this, treatment that, give up, give in, lose all hope that this is it.

Writing in a little black book; dreams,  poems, thoughts from a mad man, all going down into the journal, to be read at a later day, judgement day?

Madness, madness, boil and toiled, wish wash, leaning over the edge, peering over, to see what the eye can see, and the mind loses grip and falls head over heels to a demise, to a fate worst than death, death being a relief.

Shame.

The buzzards feed on broken dreams, souls burning bright against a crimson sky.

The nightmares never end, they just go into hiding when the day light breaks, to once again march into sight when the sun sets and the pillow calms.

Medication comes at 8.  And then again at 2.  The nurses smile, hand the cups off, in some religious ceremony, smiles again as the throat moves up and down.

Check.

All gone.

Night time, second dose, helps to sleep, to calm the nerves.

Or so they say, they say it so much, they almost believe it, their sale pitch.

9:45.  AM or PM? It does not matter, time stops when you enter that door.   The art time comes, it seems they want us to draw, pretty pictures, of sun rises, sun sets, a dog killing its owner with a baseball bat.

“THAT is not appropiate!” the nurses, the doctors screech.  The family is here. They are shaking their head.

“The sun is not a killing machine!!”  my sister says, we can see the tears in her eyes.

I lower my head.  In worlds now gone, the sun is a killer, blazed in firey heat, millions of worlds, now erased, gone, destroyed by its hands.

Chemical imbalance.  Mindless.  Wandering through broken streets, glass thrown here, there and everywhere, to cut the traveler deep.

“If this does not stop, we will have to go to drastic measures!” the director, eyes deep, suit black like midnight, throws out at me and my family standing there.

Drastic measures, cutting skin, opening the soul, to bleed out the insanity, it would seem, though no one ever came back right from that drastic measure.

“Cold baths! Shock!” old man said from his rocking chair. “They cut your brain out and feed it to the crows!” he laughed.  I smiled.  Years ago, many years, old man was a saint, a college professor some say.

Now, he was just an old coot, rocking in his rocking chair, scar across his face where the doctors gave him the cure.

Laughter, the children laugh, it is a good thing to laugh, but laugh too much, and they call you mad.