Skip to main content

Moonlight shines upon the guilty and innocent alike


The sky tore its veil wide open, gasping, at the severe penalty of the accursed weather condition. 'I must not weep,' it cries. 'This pity party is never my most appealing trait.' Therefore he gave way for the ground to mature and thus making progress at the marvel of the greens. He stood on top overseeing the bounties its children may yet offer at the behest of the moon whose mischievous master ever burns brightly at the break of day. It gave way for life to flourish thus organisms began to roam the earth. Different species abound immediately at the development caused by the sky, and his pride bloomed even moreso, drawing more air into its cloudy bodies and helped sustained the new world around it. Like a nurturing mother whose task was to manifest love, it sparks its potential, hearken to their pious needs, and punishment for their indiscretions. Long lived harmony and prosperity. Burning for a reason to thrill, the sky willed itself to aim more higher in its desire to govern. Life was simply simple and challenge was what it demanded, mandated, fulfilled. 

It then bore the very first man and gave it a tenth of its wisdom for a slim fighting chance to stand against it. This underestimation proved to be fatal, as the man immediately understood the concept of survival. Pitted against defying odds, he would reign supreme amongst all creations, beasts and greens alike, and used this advantage against the sky. It was this that man learned how to craft his own soul. The same soul mirrored from the image of wisdom given to one's character. He would feed off it to master its strength, rivalling only the sky in return. Enough to tear it in half at the biggest battle of mankind, dividing everything into halves.

Out of the madness juxtaposition was born.  Black and white. Day and night.

Man and woman.

Popular posts from this blog

Unprayer

Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.

Me: Things that have happened to other people are happening in mine, the worst truly has come and not a moment too soon

My important wishes always happen to fall on deaf ears, and now something really, really bad (that has already happened before) is happening to me again. Beneath all the charade of misleading coulrotic bliss is a sad sap of a man merely wanting a bit of trust from everyone around him. Yesterday's news was Mioseon all over again, and it has drained me of all strength. The worst really has come, and heaven knows I'm miserable now.
So it goes without saying that the biggest tragedy I have ever undergone in my life is fighting for the life of my child whose face I will never see. The most perplexing event was having to beg over and over unknowingly oblivious to the fact that my words carry no weight at all. Mioseon had trapped me into a corner and made me complicit to a sin I tried very hard to disavow. Regardless, she had found a way, and judging from that experience, Miriam herself will submit me to the same torture all over again, guilty by association.
For some reason this wa…

Me: At ease, the worst of the worst has yet to come

The wind was cold today, a Sunday, a proper start to September. We are within these months again. The road to the end of a very short year. A year for me where very little was accomplished. At the very least, compared to the previous one, this was a surprise blessing. Not without its challenges. Not without its pains.
Miriam went to work an hour ago. We left each other at Starbucks after a mild break. I was trying to help her with the buses. She never seems to catch on with the intricacies of the public transportation. I let her know that the easiest (not necessarily the fastest) way to work is to take the 260 bus from across the street in our new place in East Acton and stop at the underground station in Shepherds Bush. From there, she can then take bus 94 going to Piccadilly Circus where she can easily walk to her workplace in Soho in about five minutes or so.
She begged me to join her. I was still groggy and asleep at two in the afternoon. That seems to be our common waking up pat…