Post by Revvie® on Oct 22, 2007 20:01:22 GMT -5
Current-borne, wave-flung, tugged hugely by the whole might of ocean, the jellyfish drifts in the tidal abyss. The light shines through it, and the dark enters it. Borne, flung, tugged from anywhere to anywhere, for in the deep sea there is no compass but nearer and farther, higher and lower, the jellyfish hangs and sways; pulses move slight and quick within it, as the vast diurnal pulses beat in the moondriven sea. Hanging, swaying, pulsing, the most vulnerable and insubstantial creature, it has for its defense the violence and power of the whole ocean, to which it has entrusted its being, its going, and its will.
But here rise the stubborn continents. The shelves of gravel and the cliffs of rock break from water baldly into air, that dry, terrible outerspace of radiance and instability, where there is no support for life. And now, now the currents mislead and the waves betray, breaking their endless circle, to leap up in the loud foam against the rock and air, breaking…
What will the creature made of all seadrift do on the dry sand of daylight; what will the mind do, each morning, waking?
{] Dreaming: The Expression of the Soul [}
Heat, flames, forgiveness of damned, they are not mine to judge and I want not to judge them. Choices are few, faith is dwindling, lies they are not but truths they are not. I can feel their burdens, I can feel his burdens, my legs buckle, I fall. I fall far from the faith that had put me upon such a pedestal. Dreams, Lies, Truths, Façade, Deceit, I am overwhelmed, he is overwhelmed. I can see my Messiah’s face amongst the ashes of my past, he grins with a crooked grin and he laughs with a crooked laugh, he himself is of another’s design. The crown, the pain, the blood of the lamb washing through me, over me, it was his burdens, it was their burdens, it is my burden…
I rose above the clouds of obscurity and into the heavens of deformity and of defecation of the soul. His heaven, his clouds, my insecurities, I remember his name, my true Messiah. I whisper to a neighboring cell mate of his heaven, he who brought us forth into the world, he who gave us life, he who can take it away.
“Are you of his truest design?” I spoke low and yet still the clouds trembled for I spoke of him and he loved words of praise more so then those he created.
The tremble slowed to a halt and the creature next to me turned, his face with scars, his body with scars, his mind with scars. “I am, yet I am not. I give to him his due but he takes it not from me as he does from you, he holds you dear and with a twisted smile he holds out his hand, panting for words of his praise, yet you give it not." Disobedience, Dissolution, Disarray, my mind swirls, into a frenzy I fall once again, this time farther then before. His furnace awaits, my body perspires as does my mind. I can feel my fear, I can feel his fear, I can feel his fear, I can feel…..his fear?
The fall hinders, the heat subsides, my faith does not dwindle. He is my creator, he is my savior…he is…my Messiah.
{] Love: The Expression of the Heart [}
The noise, the echo, the annoyance, the alarm, I moved lethargically from my once stationary position that I had grown quite fond of. I pulled myself from the couch, the imprint still lay silent, comfortable, sleeping. I sat hunched over my knees, my eyes crusted with dust. I gently pushed my hand across them, removing said particles and releasing the grip they had on my eyes. My eyes flung open, then cringed at the light protruding through the window, they adjusted, they understood, they adapted. I moved slowly and methodically, watching every step I made, to the window. I could hear the clatter, the thunder, the movement of the water through the gutters; the rain was here yet again. It had clouded up the week and it had clouded up the month and as more and more clouds rolled in, I could feel my muscles growing with aches.
I made my way out the door, swiftly, craftily, avoiding the drops of rain the best that I could until finally giving in. The drops caressed my face, my arms, my body and yet my mind was a flurry of thoughts and indecisive decisions. My feet connected with the ground, each connection creating a small splash of insensitivity toward the rain that gave its life for the plants and the animals that drank from its graves and bathed in its tears. I am one of the animals and I dwelled not on the thoughts of my elders and embraced the disgrace that was my life and my thoughts.
I could hear it, clattering, right behind me, it came closer, closer, to close, I turned. It stared back at me, it was of the eve and it bares a name that I did not know but felt a wishing and wanting to know. “May I ask why you are following me so closely?” Her eyes lit up with intrigue and with every gaze she seemed to draw closer. She kissed me, ran, rain bouncing from her body and splattering across the ground. Why did she kiss me? I knew not this answer but I wanted to know this answer, I wanted to know the feeling again, the feeling of love. Kat Hamilton, Kurt Burton, a couple, they must know love, right? Did that give him an edge on me? No, of course not, he is still but a man, just a man with a mate, that is all, nothing more, nothing less, but still I pondered.
Love, Kurt, Kat, a bound beyond understanding, I had a bound, once. This thought crept back and forth across my mind with furious vigor. But he bore this relationship in intoxication, in debauchery, yet, it still exists. Kurt, faith, friends, sober is his solemn vowel, many have made such claims. I never made such claims, I am intoxicated by the sins of the flesh, I am his creation, I am of his design, he is my true Messiah. I am small till I consume his essence, till I. My mind gave way to a knew thought, one I had not given accreditation to till now. I am his, I am my own, Kurt is of nothing, Kurt bares no true holy wounds that I bare. I touched my forehead softly, feeling the bumps of the scars as my hand crossed them. I am better, I bare the wounds, I bare a soul of refined victory that came from the ashes of my Messiah’s flames. I am the steel that once bent and broke but now is sturdy and strong and has been purges of my inadequacies.
Love, Friends, Kurt, Weakness is that which will be is falter. I know him, I know his eyes, I know his soul. He can break, he will break, he is not of refined victory, he is not of the ashes of the Messiah’s flames, he is but of the ashes of intoxications and bares only the marks of a foolish man, a man of weakness. I rose from the bench that I now found myself placed on and made my way forward down the dreary rode of my own salvation and redemption.
{] Sermon: The Expression of the Mind [}
Kurt, intoxication hounds you no more. Relief sweeps through your life but struggle ensues with every vanquishing of a demon. You have let go that which held you tightly but I have embraced my sin and embraced my Messiah till… No matter, it will matter not to you to explain my fate, only yours is in dictation right now and yours is of my own design. I decide your path, I decide if, when you step out of that ring, you go back to the intoxication that held such a hold over your mind, your life.
You are a little concern, if only a momentary passing of my time and a movement on the chessboard closer to taking the game. You know of love, you know of friendship and you embrace such weaknesses with a smile of disregard for your own well-being. Ignorance will only end in Ignorance. I pray that you receive some sort of pain relieve before the match ensues because if you do not, it will be a most excruciating fate for you.
Amen.
But here rise the stubborn continents. The shelves of gravel and the cliffs of rock break from water baldly into air, that dry, terrible outerspace of radiance and instability, where there is no support for life. And now, now the currents mislead and the waves betray, breaking their endless circle, to leap up in the loud foam against the rock and air, breaking…
What will the creature made of all seadrift do on the dry sand of daylight; what will the mind do, each morning, waking?
-Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven
{] Dreaming: The Expression of the Soul [}
Heat, flames, forgiveness of damned, they are not mine to judge and I want not to judge them. Choices are few, faith is dwindling, lies they are not but truths they are not. I can feel their burdens, I can feel his burdens, my legs buckle, I fall. I fall far from the faith that had put me upon such a pedestal. Dreams, Lies, Truths, Façade, Deceit, I am overwhelmed, he is overwhelmed. I can see my Messiah’s face amongst the ashes of my past, he grins with a crooked grin and he laughs with a crooked laugh, he himself is of another’s design. The crown, the pain, the blood of the lamb washing through me, over me, it was his burdens, it was their burdens, it is my burden…
I rose above the clouds of obscurity and into the heavens of deformity and of defecation of the soul. His heaven, his clouds, my insecurities, I remember his name, my true Messiah. I whisper to a neighboring cell mate of his heaven, he who brought us forth into the world, he who gave us life, he who can take it away.
“Are you of his truest design?” I spoke low and yet still the clouds trembled for I spoke of him and he loved words of praise more so then those he created.
The tremble slowed to a halt and the creature next to me turned, his face with scars, his body with scars, his mind with scars. “I am, yet I am not. I give to him his due but he takes it not from me as he does from you, he holds you dear and with a twisted smile he holds out his hand, panting for words of his praise, yet you give it not." Disobedience, Dissolution, Disarray, my mind swirls, into a frenzy I fall once again, this time farther then before. His furnace awaits, my body perspires as does my mind. I can feel my fear, I can feel his fear, I can feel his fear, I can feel…..his fear?
The fall hinders, the heat subsides, my faith does not dwindle. He is my creator, he is my savior…he is…my Messiah.
{] Love: The Expression of the Heart [}
The noise, the echo, the annoyance, the alarm, I moved lethargically from my once stationary position that I had grown quite fond of. I pulled myself from the couch, the imprint still lay silent, comfortable, sleeping. I sat hunched over my knees, my eyes crusted with dust. I gently pushed my hand across them, removing said particles and releasing the grip they had on my eyes. My eyes flung open, then cringed at the light protruding through the window, they adjusted, they understood, they adapted. I moved slowly and methodically, watching every step I made, to the window. I could hear the clatter, the thunder, the movement of the water through the gutters; the rain was here yet again. It had clouded up the week and it had clouded up the month and as more and more clouds rolled in, I could feel my muscles growing with aches.
I made my way out the door, swiftly, craftily, avoiding the drops of rain the best that I could until finally giving in. The drops caressed my face, my arms, my body and yet my mind was a flurry of thoughts and indecisive decisions. My feet connected with the ground, each connection creating a small splash of insensitivity toward the rain that gave its life for the plants and the animals that drank from its graves and bathed in its tears. I am one of the animals and I dwelled not on the thoughts of my elders and embraced the disgrace that was my life and my thoughts.
I could hear it, clattering, right behind me, it came closer, closer, to close, I turned. It stared back at me, it was of the eve and it bares a name that I did not know but felt a wishing and wanting to know. “May I ask why you are following me so closely?” Her eyes lit up with intrigue and with every gaze she seemed to draw closer. She kissed me, ran, rain bouncing from her body and splattering across the ground. Why did she kiss me? I knew not this answer but I wanted to know this answer, I wanted to know the feeling again, the feeling of love. Kat Hamilton, Kurt Burton, a couple, they must know love, right? Did that give him an edge on me? No, of course not, he is still but a man, just a man with a mate, that is all, nothing more, nothing less, but still I pondered.
Love, Kurt, Kat, a bound beyond understanding, I had a bound, once. This thought crept back and forth across my mind with furious vigor. But he bore this relationship in intoxication, in debauchery, yet, it still exists. Kurt, faith, friends, sober is his solemn vowel, many have made such claims. I never made such claims, I am intoxicated by the sins of the flesh, I am his creation, I am of his design, he is my true Messiah. I am small till I consume his essence, till I. My mind gave way to a knew thought, one I had not given accreditation to till now. I am his, I am my own, Kurt is of nothing, Kurt bares no true holy wounds that I bare. I touched my forehead softly, feeling the bumps of the scars as my hand crossed them. I am better, I bare the wounds, I bare a soul of refined victory that came from the ashes of my Messiah’s flames. I am the steel that once bent and broke but now is sturdy and strong and has been purges of my inadequacies.
Love, Friends, Kurt, Weakness is that which will be is falter. I know him, I know his eyes, I know his soul. He can break, he will break, he is not of refined victory, he is not of the ashes of the Messiah’s flames, he is but of the ashes of intoxications and bares only the marks of a foolish man, a man of weakness. I rose from the bench that I now found myself placed on and made my way forward down the dreary rode of my own salvation and redemption.
{] Sermon: The Expression of the Mind [}
Kurt, intoxication hounds you no more. Relief sweeps through your life but struggle ensues with every vanquishing of a demon. You have let go that which held you tightly but I have embraced my sin and embraced my Messiah till… No matter, it will matter not to you to explain my fate, only yours is in dictation right now and yours is of my own design. I decide your path, I decide if, when you step out of that ring, you go back to the intoxication that held such a hold over your mind, your life.
You are a little concern, if only a momentary passing of my time and a movement on the chessboard closer to taking the game. You know of love, you know of friendship and you embrace such weaknesses with a smile of disregard for your own well-being. Ignorance will only end in Ignorance. I pray that you receive some sort of pain relieve before the match ensues because if you do not, it will be a most excruciating fate for you.
Amen.
