A work of art is a unique result of a unique temperament.
Oscar Wilde
#1:
It was first a memory, more of a delirium dream. Diffused into the abstract perfection and the ethereal aura of the notes floating on the comely waves of his stormless mind. His mind was a sea, a sea so vast that the echo of himself couldn’t bear, a sea so vast that his demure soul was wandering the air. His soul was effervescent, it was stirred into the vapour of his own enchantment. He was his own curse & his own blessing. He rose within him a thousand voices, a myriad places, illuding faces. He rose within him heavens & hells he haven’t seen and surely wished not. For what really are the consequences that may happen and the dreads that may fall into one’s own heart if one could see himself so endless. What can you do if you have seen everything, smelled everything, tasted everything, listened to everything. How can one’s heart endure the serenity of a sleeping baby and the horrid scenes of a massacre, how can one’s own heart endure the pure and the tainted? How can you feel the extremes and touch them & stay so neutral? How can you be a sea into thyself? How can you conflate all those memories into thy perception? & if so how can you perceive the world? Do you see flesh and blood and bones and tissues or do you see souls and souls some fading and some igniting, some falling & some transcending into heavens above heavens unto the flaws of the earth? How can you perceive the earth? How can you hear the song of blood and iron and fire and dust and flames and notes of thousands of bones of men that are killed and have no names? How can you see that seas of blood may flood the earth of Men that are trusted with the earth to transcend but fall apart? How can you keep that song within your heart & stay as one? How can you taste the notes of the sweet nightingale & you have made out of music an endless veil between a hundred reality and a hundred illusion? How can you keep those spectra within you confined & all the worlds within those lights are all entwined? How can you see a baby’s deep unconscious cry? How can you see a sinner with an uncondemning eye? How can you watch the weak into a bleak hour of the day & stay so firm? How can your Love transcend a world of fiends and friends and Men guiltless and yet condemned?
How can you be the One you used to be? The One you’re born to be…
#2:
We were hunters, we were peasants, seamen, slaves, we were waves without a sea. without an ocean we can cling to without a prayer without a god to-which we plea. We were hurricanes with no air we can breathe; we were just a mere uprising surging striving underneath. We were needed all united we were born back undivided, yet we were bound and confined underneath your state of mind. Underneath, we’re torn in pieces for our nature is maligned. Deep into the earth we went, reading omens and portents, yet we read what we intend to grind in pieces all of you and all of you we shall torment. But can you wonder how we stay? How we fall & how we lay? How we whisper all the days and nights of evil so unspoken so unbroken till we lead ourselves astray. How our pride leads our decay. Can you wonder? can you question your beliefs? can you silence thousand voices, screamings noises, turning your blue skies into ashes as our lashes flay your clouds to gloomy grey. We’re the past you fear to face, we’re the wisdom that always kills you, bruises you, fills you with disgrace. We’re a truth you can not mumble, think of but you’ll feel us rumble till we leave your inners crumble with thoughts you never can efface. We’re the knowledge that counter-attacks your emotions endlessly, senselessly till what you crave you can’t trace. We were strapped unto your mind, lurked into the deepest trenches, causing wrench until you suffer, lain there helpless by thoughts springing out of nowhere you can find. With each feeling, with each sealing, each concealing we’re entwined. Lost are we & so do you. Waiting for the perfect tick to consume you, to waste you, entomb you, drain you; waiting…dormant in the ashen hue. Till we rent you all in pieces, tear glimpse of hope within you, all your core you keep to sinew, till you sleep into oblivion losing sense of who are you.
#3:
You are broken. & it is far more substantial than what you might think. You are broken to the core of the depth of your own soul. Broken yet as vital as a vivid primrose at the dawn of the dewy spring. Yet spring was it not. For life was raining an overture of harmony that resonates within the free-falling past of our own lives. You were soaring into the void of your own senses. You were safe. You were torn already, a thousand shreds of you upon the ground of my thoughts scattered, unravelled within the very palm of my own hand, unmended yet concealed for every rag of your existence was a shard that generates a whole new universe. You were reborn into the most magnificent way. Like a phoenix, yet the flames could not entirely devour you. You were alive & those flames that failed to waste you was ravaged by your own renaissance. Your existence have conquered your own heat, gorging your inners. Your death was a birth of an arena where all beings like you do shall dance forever a dance of fire & dust & flames & thousand suns shall know your name & remember; that the weak is the most mighty for out of the broken have they -themselves- sprung & multiplied. Fear can no longer linger into our valleys. For our own collapse have ingested fear. Right now, nothing outside us really exists. We became so dense, that we have mutilated our world & sprang into a world of our own.
You are broken. & you will remain so. Sooner you will realise it is you who breaks the worlds within you just as your world broke you. & then they will form worlds within themselves just like you did. & then you will realise, you are just growing up. You are evolving from a form of Life to a vessel of many others.
Do not be afraid. For I have been there too, I have been as broken as you are. Look at me now, it is me who broke you. But it’s OK. Sooner you will forget again. It’s been a long time & you have already forgotten all of this, you will even forget asking me to break you in the first place. If there is one thing to remember, it’s that you should never abstain yourself from Life & do not gulp too much either. Sip slowly, taste it, taste it all & savour the experience to all the lives you will utter as you fall apart. Take your time & embrace it with Love.
#4:
You woke up. Some would say that you merely have grown up. Some would think you merely reached adolescence. But deep inside, it was so profoundly lucid, you just woke up. It was a long time for you asleep. For deep inside you felt special, all your world was whirling around you. You were the centre of everything, Everything was there for you, you believed that the world is yours. Not as a matter of possession, but as a matter of contemplation. You thought you can understand everything fully, you thought that you can harvest your own philosophy & claim it as the mother of all. You thought you knew me. You thought you can cause riot in the worlds of reason & emotions, merely by your words. You have not seen that others can too. You have not seen me in the living. You spoke of me everyday, you thought that you meditated about me, as you ate, as you slept, as you talked & walked & uttered speeches none can tell. You were heading to a heaven of your own making, not knowing it was your self-sustained hell. & as you were asleep, you needed a cocoon; you needed to be utterly safe so built your own sanctuary upon the remnants of your lost purpose’s grave. I knew you were in grave need to wake up, so I did.
I woke you up, at first you resisted. & in the pursuit of you waking up, you tore my heart to pieces & my core was mere shards upon the floor of your own conscious. You wanted to erase my reason. But then , what is reason to people like you & I? & as you knew not you had it deep inside, the meaning of Life. You kept on seeking it, stretching your hands to the eternity of your own dreams, the eternity as you know it, unto the aeons & ages of the lifetime of your own soul. You kept on being asleep & every day was a long as the lifetime of my own despair of you waking up. But with every morning sun, I lit my hope up & rekindled my own fire for you to rise again. You were meant to rise. You were meant to out-stand all those who suppress you. You were meant to gain victory against your own self.
You needed to rise. You were chosen, yes. Just as you thought. There is a meaning to life, yes. Just as you thought.
You were chosen as much as everyone. Everyone was there. you were all one being, rising & that was why you were asleep. You could not still realise that there were others. With a message just as significant & with a purpose just as substantial. You needed to get out of your cocoon. To realise it was a cocoon in the first place.
There is a meaning to life, yes. but it was not something to seek.
You were, you are & you will always be that meaning. & your failure to realise it was exactly why you kept on sleeping. You had not to gather all the wisdom. You already have it. You had not to search everywhere. For a meaning of life in all its eminence was embedded deep within you. It was something you create.
If you have watched me thoroughly, if you profoundly tasted my thoughts, you would have known.
It is all about creation.
Good morning.
The funny thing they all have different themes, different temperaments, yet they all happen to be felt unitively.
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