IRC-Galleria

It was ironic, really. There had been nothing permanent in his life so far. Nothing static, nothing reliable. Every day had been another of drifting, floating from season to season without a focal point. Months used to spin around another, people passed as they would and never really left an impression on him. His life could be reviewed as a mosaic of separate moments, short stories and situations, but journalling was rather irrelevant. Most of the events could have taken place in any order, short sequences before he changed course. He would barely remember years and countries, but it was seldom for them to be in the right order. With hindsight, the life would seem more like a collection of experiences assembled by happenstance. To a stranger it would always seem intriguing, even envy-inducing, but even with multiple, various, single achievements a life without a plot-line can appear very bleak. A mosaic of randomly placed colour tiles doesn't make out into much after a few steps back. It's hard to really attach to anything, when you're constantly on the move, he thought. He'd passed through all of it, enjoying the scratches he could get at everything new and different, but always implicitly wishing he'd stayed in the places he liked. After a while of such life you desensitize to it, his internal monologue continued, I don't know if I still could enjoy such a life had I been given a chance. Living as a vagrant, he had never really considered anything else. The life was in the moment, and he used to indulge himself in every moment given. Who would have guessed, he whispered, that after all it would leave such a feeling of void, as if his whole life was vacant. Maybe it was. The only record of him in this world was the riddle of episodes he'd played in people's lives. This was the most permanent impression he'd ever made. To most, he was a positive acquaintance, a chance encounter. He rarely stayed long enough to see anything go further; he unconsciously knew he could have never left again.

In that very moment everything had changed. He wanted to go back to any moment and stay there forever. The only difference this time was, that he couldn't.

Feed me fire, and I shall ravish this land,

Leave the wretched soil desolate.

Till no brick stands atop the other,
ground no more paved, structure none intact,

That of the hand of man lies in utter ruin,
once forced into geometry, now scathed, torn part.

Let the frost eat away which still lies within,
until the world can breathe free.

A new beginning for the weary wasteland.

Once exhausted shall become invigorated.


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It's not a thing of mood

its a question unanswered.


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As the darkness gnawed upon my peripherals, I knew a body fell breathless in the light that remained. Series of plans expired almost as an ironic metaphor for the life itself in the moment. One could imagine a vivid blast of some abstract force of life leaving a person in the form of bright rays of light and a gaseous substance. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear. She had died away for a long time. Now the roar inside her subsided, and all fell tranquil again. A world without her felt oppressively quiet.


Full of Ink,
yours truly.


´


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Maybe this is the beginning of a series to be called Full of Ink, as Az once rhymed.


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If it were for us to dictate, we'd never part this fragment of life of ours.

Get caught in a loophole.

Employ, enslave, surf.

Live one a moment.


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#51 27.9.2009 4:00
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who might I be when I wake up?


´


Which man passed, yet none immortal,
leave a trail of crumbs, passers by.


Anything can be a waste of time.


´


I can merely be the lies I tell.

We're here tonight because we've lost our hearts.

Should the night take my life,
I want to wake up next to you
like it were before.

Your rage scolds my body.

Move closer,
come back,
leave your nightmare behind,
pacify my visions.

When you're here, still gone, the ripples turn to waves.
I can't touch you.

24.09.2009 17:30 <Ylläpito> Tervetuloa! Sinut on valittu koekäyttämään uudistettua IRC-Galleriaa osoittessa [--] Sisään pääset [--] . Tarkemmat ohjeet saat sisäänkirjauduttuasi. Huom! Kutsu on henkilökohtainen.

Ettätätä.