No Survivors

A freshly moistened lip a dilated pupil A slightly squinting yet still sparkling eye A firm hand on a soft form Curves traced with care, with wanting The memorization of skin The bumps, the scars cradled, caressed, worshipped Devoted to the moment, present for this love alone The drinking in and pouring out The emptying, the filling The bursting, the gushing When noses, eyes, mouths and ears all make way for the skin When the world ends and begins again and there are no survivors

The Creaking Wheel

What once churned was now stagnant. It's rusted facade hinted at the decrepit innards it magnitude kept hidden. Even a torrential wind could not move the wheel. Giant and rotting it was a representation of the life that it once supported. A thriving town, full of young hopeful minds and strong breakable bodies. The mill that pumped the blood of the town turning it from a shell of dried skin to something viable and supple. The wheel turned, the town prospered. It was a simple metaphor much like life in this young town. The mill seemed to provide them all they needed, food, water, money, even energy to run the things in the town that needed running. Families came and grew and lived happily in proximity of the great wheel. 

A dark secret would soon rumble within the town however. The men who were in charge of the wheel had always seemed kind and fatherly. They loved the town and were happy that their wheel had brought them so much success at the good life. The town had schools, doctors, markets, churches and even a hall where they would hold great dances and socials for the townsfolk. It was a tight knit community and the men and woman of the town would defend it to the death. The men who owned the wheel knew this and at first felt a sense of fatherly pride for the townsfolk and their loyalty. Being a great success and supporting so many with their wheel began to tax them greatly. The responsibility like an anchor around their necks. Soon they began to make mistakes and these mistakes would prove to be deadly. 

A young man had come up in the ranks as a wheel worker and showed great promise. He was a fast worker and a hard worker. One of the wheelmen thought him a good chap so he introduced him to his daughter. He had never had a son and was looking for someone to take his place as a wheelman when he became too old. The daughter seemed to fancy the young man and soon it was set. They would be married and he would begin training the young man for the wheelman job he may soon possess. There were many men however who had worked the wheel for much longer and were unhappy that they were not chosen to take his place.

An unrest spread among the masses of men around the town. The wheelmen were dismayed that so many were unhappy and tried to think of a solution. They held a townhall meeting in which every man would have a chance to voice his concerns about the recent turn of events. The young man however was upset that so many were questioning his abilities for as far as he could tell he was the best man for the job. The wheelmen wanted to appease the people of the town before it became heated so they held the meeting. The young man entered last with his wife and  they stood next to his father-in-law rather then being seated with the other townsfolk. The resentment sprung from the crowd quickly and voices rattled the hall. 

The wheelmen raised their hands up to quell the raucous noise that emanated from the crowd. The wheelman whose daughter was in attendance told the crowd that if they were in his shoes they would do the same thing to make sure the wheel would keep going, and that they town would keep going. The taste for power however had been tempted in the men and they rose their voices once more. A shrill word silenced the men in the room. The daughter of the wheelman looked out onto the crowd and announced that rather then her husband taking over it would be she that would take over. There were immediate murmurs of disagreement but noone would come forth to challenge it for they knew the meaning of family and tradition.

So it stood, tommorrow the wheelman's daughter would learn how to work the wheel.

To Be Continued... 

Prolonging resolution

Why do we draw out resolution? is it because we enjoy the pain? Do we need those shameful moments to feel anything at all? The present is where we are and yet we always reach back Always cling to the moments that could have been glorious if I had just said this, if I had just done that Why not aspire to new glory? Because we feel misguidedly that we can fix the past make history right and good. We aren't afraid of what we have already survived let's admit that it feels good to probe that wound, reliving those moments in new ways so that we can fix it this time. Repeat the pattern so this time we will say the thing we should have said, do the thing we should have done. Many use repetition to learn but don't sell yourself short perhaps the lesson is learned, There is no need to repeat it because it will not erase the past it will not improve your future it will hold you a prisoner to that moment that has haunted you the one you can never change no matter how hard you try. Forge on! Correct the past with the present and the future for what is done is done and it's lesson is inside you to carry you forward.

where!?

Why does everyone think that hell is so far away from heaven? Wouldn't it make more sense if heaven was right next door to hell and hell had big blurry windows. It would be like watching the scrambled channels on TV. Maybe the windows would be covered with a layer of soap and every day they rinse it off and reapply it. The window would become clean and clear for a few short minutes then just as the last drop of water is drying revealing heaven's true majesty the soapy layer is reapplied once again so that as vainly as you try to have a glimpse of heaven it is impossible to sustain it's memory in your head. It all just passes so quickly. Once again you are relegated to guessing if they are playing and frolicking in the perfect temperature or being forced to jazzercise.

life lessons?

Today at work I was confronted with a situation in which a person was showing disagreement to something I was saying regarding an issue that is important to me. Now a less calm version of me would have issued a challenge followed by a fierce debate. Now being that I was at work that most likely would have been the wrong choice, either because I would have gotten in trouble or the argument would have been fractured into meaningless pieces because of, well, work. So I walked away and despite coming up with a single pointed thing to say I refrained from engaging entirely. This is completely out of nature for me and frankly I felt somewhat proud that I had shown such restraint. It's an important issue but not one that people will switch their view on simply by debating or even discussing it. The other person's point of view was not affecting the way they treated customers or anything like that so there really was no need for a discussion especially since the other party didn't seem eager to have a discussion about it. I ended it by say "Well, that's what I believe." and a shrug.

I am still proud of my withholding skills, however there is that certain feeling that I could have changed a mind about something and didn't. As I think of it tonight I realize that confrontational debates don't help much in the conversion of ideas process and honestly most of the time people I disagree with use those tactics times 10. Now I must leave it up to life and it's natural process to hopefully change this person's mind. I know that most people reading this will know most of what I'm stating here already, but for me this is an epiphany of sorts. If someone says something offensive and I feel that it could offend someone other then me, I will say something. I can't help but recall the most poignant experience I had on this subject happening in a very casual exchange between me and a work friend from a previous location.

This coworker thought that all homosexuals got A.I.D.S if they just had sex with each other for long enough. It wasn't a virus that was passed around from one innocent victim to the next, as with any virus, but was actually contracted from the act of having sex with a same sex partner. I was shocked (and about 500 other emotions) especially since this person had worked in the medical field for many more years then I. I showed my dismay at the misconception but then explained to this person that it was just that, a misconception. They seemed baffled by this information, clearly illustrating that this was never even a possibility in the scope of how they learned of that horrible disease.

There was nothing angry or confrontational about the whole experience. For them it was informative, for me it was a clear sign that people are passing around a lot of bullshit about a lot of things in order to make it seem more terrible. The person today simply indicated a disagreement in something I said, and that was it. My debate-y mind wanted to GO, but ultimately I held back. Hopefully life will teach this person better then what their understanding is now, or maybe another opportunity will arise in which I can express my side. Perhaps today's experience will help me do it calmly.

Soul years

Imagine your soul as a separate part of your being. It is a living thing but it eats differently, sleeps differently and performs all the other ho hum human functions in a different way. Perhaps instead of sleeping when you sleep, it sleeps when you aren't pursuing/doing what you love. That could explain why we feel so much more alive when we are doing those things that make us happiest. The bigger concept I had however, is, what if our souls age differently then us? What if every time we experience intense hardship it gains more years. Every time we struggle and feel we may not make it it adds more time, but also more wisdom. So when we do get to the other end of the struggle we are wiser and more equipped for what may come next. This seems like a useful thing that with hardship we become more prepared for what lies ahead. Let's think though about grown ups and even the elderly. Some of them become rigidly set in routines and points of view that seem to disconnect them from the world. It can even build this shell around them, though protective, cuts of any sound or interaction in a true sense.

I propose that we treat our souls just like this. When we go through difficulty, take time to heal but then try to notice how your perspective on the world has changed. It wouldn't be any easy task because the types of things I'm thinking of tend to change the way your world looks anyway. If you can connect with it though and decipher the change, the next step would be to reinforce the youthful aspects of your nature so as not to cement yourself in this new view of the world. I believe with deep thought and practice this is possible and even if you can't work it all out the exploration is a healthy thing.

Halloween

I love Halloween, I always have. Playing make believe and letting yourself be scared. Eating candy, telling stories, Seeing into your neighbors a little better. It's not about evil folks, it's about community. It creates bonds through interacting face to face, showing generosity to your neighbors. Getting a peek at their creative self expression, seeing what they chose as their persona and how hard they worked to convey it. I refuse to believe that a holiday that once was used to honor the dead, and now is used to bring people together in a communal way is wrong.

Religion has always been a tricky subject for me. On one hand I love the positive effect it has on some peoples lives. I love the simplistic manner in which it teaches being kind to one another and the basics like don't kill each other and don't steal from each other. I have never like when it is deliberately perverted or just teaches on vague ideas that can be misunderstood and used for hate. Let's not look for reasons to discriminate but instead foster that community vibe that will pay out in the end