![]() Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard. Where anything goes. -//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7 |
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Thursday, January 08, 2004 (1) - I'm alone, aren't I? (I know this is really stupid, but then again, so am I ... so obviously I'd be expected to choose the most idiotic course of continuing this nonsense. Oops ... wait ... I realised that ... that means that maybe I do know something. Oops ... I realised that as well ... blah blah ad infintum. Oops ... I realised it was ad infinitum ...) So ... the chilling sea breeze, the gentle rustle of listless tufted grass, the chirps of birds going about their daily morning routine, the muted crash of countless waves against the shore, the so far irresistable force meeting the impenetrable barrier. And solitude. How I came here, or how I came about to be here, was a mystery whose solution was irrelevent. Where I did come to be about might as well have been irrelevant as well, for all that mattered was the solitude. Pensively, I let a finger damp from the morning dew trail across my lips and onto my chin, if only so that each gust of wind could rejuvenate that awareness of my manifestation. The other lip, as if jealous of the attention given to its counterpart, began to itch and crack in the frigid air. That knowledge ... that understanding, the epiphany, that I was free to choose my own course, was a welcome relief from a world of harassments, of chores and tasks, of hierarchies and responsibilities, of expectations and reliances, was the only sensation that pervaded me through the thick of my mind and the depths of my heart. While still with my hands over my lap, I leaned back and sighed, letting my hair touch the grass in trickles. I closed my eyes, and gently inhaled ... exhaled ... letting the chilly air fill my lungs and caress my heart. So often, in life, do people find themselves rushing, in their quest to save time adding the burden of haste upon their lives. Breathe. Yet, it would be similarly foolish to disregard common sense in favour of one's own satisfaction, for convenience to tempt the consequences of their languor. Breathe. But only the most imbecilic of all would disregard the offered opportunity, when temporarily distanced from the burdens of life, the cries of duty all of a sudden muted, to release oneself, to breathe. Common sense told me to breathe. The moment of tranquil passed, the spirit once released from her shackles now harnessed again by the ropes of time and realism, perhaps it was time to avoid the temptations of pleasure and to consider the causes, and the actions to take about this most unworldly situation I found myself in. - ends - As I said, I don't write like this, as anyone who has ever read anything really written by me (beyond this) would testify to. However, I must admit it can sometimes be therapeutic (is that spelled correctly?) to just lean back and think about something else, whether its nothing at all or something totally irrelevant, like what to write in these murmurings. It blanks your mind, and if you're stressed ... you'll know when you've suddenly banished yourself of it, when your mind suddenly goes vacant. Unfortunately, however, when you realise that you have been feeling good ... too bad, it's over. A serene end to a rather stressful and angsty day (and the whole day I've been in solitude, mind you) so enjoy your night. Choose one : (3) It's time to go, isn't it? (4) Perhaps I'd prefer staying here? (5) I really can't decide ... Next up, (2) Is someone there? Just a note ... I must say this is really good for spurring me to write my own stuff because I realise I'm just conjuring up utter nonsense which would pretty much disgust me if I read it coming from someone else. You know what firestarters are made from, don't you? And those dusty black bricks of charcoal at the end of my mind are finally beginning to ignite. Although, I would say that if I had an unlimited amount of firestarters I'd chuck as many as I could into the fire as long as I want it to burn, and so you can expect the poor, poor quality to continue for a very long time. Good day. posted by Charlotte | 3:09 pm
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Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ... ~//n_n\\7 |
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