the in-between

29 October 2008 @ 11:11 am

03:10

And so the long centuries grew ancient and forgotten while mankind and the fallen watchtowers evolved together, each dependent on the other and all ultimately and unconsciously longing for a way back into the primordial garden of their youth. The first made – now nameless – sought only to guide mankind towards a perfection of its own design, for the time when even time itself fails. And even though the first made hurtles still through the void beyond the firmament where no watchtower dares shine, those that fell with him see to it, through their depredations, that mankind is tested and made strong by its ability to choose. The Prime Mover, lost in its contemplation of the schemata, is blind to the change now inherent in the world of man, and in the spines of the dragon’s back the tetragrammaton slumber on, dreaming their infinite dreams.

ambience: ataraxia

speak out

28 October 2008 @ 05:28 pm

(nameless)

03:09

I have contrived a scheme whereby, starting essentially right now, I am able to take the next five to six weeks completely off. Truth be told, as I was driving home today with the windows down and we are rockstars blaring (because we are), I was mildly apprehensive. I'm climbing out of the rut I've been in for so, so long, and as I climb I can see the handprints left behind from when I unwittingly climbd down in. But fuck it. Life is not to be hidden away from; dreams are not to be solely confined to the sleeping world. If I continue the way I have been for the past few weeks, I will have written spring before its seasonal namesake is over. Then I will fly to auckland, for the celebration times. Then I will return home to polish and then finish spring, and by the end of january I intend to have it out the door and in the hands of the big, scary world.
Frankly, I'm terrified. Every day I climb a little bit further, a little bit higher, and the air is as sharp and cold as my mind is becoming. There is a fire building in my chest that will not be put out. Wait, wait. Soon, I will show you.

speak out

25 October 2008 @ 08:11 pm

(nameless)

03:08
There is no day so shitty that it can't be fixed by lifting weights, a long shower and a little playing god to cap it all off.

ambience: black swan

speak out

25 October 2008 @ 07:59 am

(nameless)

03:07
Moreover, are we not the fiercest of all the animals on this planet, be it by chance or design? It's all about free will. We are the kings and queens of our own worlds, and yet most of the time we forget to remember this. Our survival is for the greater part guaranteed - yes, yours and mine - and from that lofty perch on the ladder we will always have the ability to choose. Certainly, the choices aren't always easy, and the consequences harder still, but I can't help but feel for the longest time that we are trapped by the belief that the choices are made for us. The world is a hurricane, and our voices are but whispers against the cacophony. It's so much easier to believe that we don't have a choice; that the world shapes us and we are buffeted by the choices it makes for us. I say fuck that. I say we should raise our voices and scream back. Take all of your damage, take all of those scars that make us unique right down to the last fucking molecule and own them; every last one of them. You are the only person that will ever be you, and you are the only person that will ever have the choice to shape your world in your own likeness. We are gods, for fuck's sake, and as soon as we realise this the hurricane won't feel quite so fierce anymore, because we will learn to raise our voices and raise our hands and bend it to our own wills. You are you, and the choices are yours. Take it; own it; fucking run with it.

ambience: we are rockstars

3 spoke out | speak out

24 October 2008 @ 09:14 pm

(nameless)

03:06
Aren't we all just narcissists, at the end of the day? Aren't we all just that little bit concerned about how we present to the world? About face time? Don't we all wonder exactly what it is we mean to others, and what they mean to us? Of course this is the way of things; we are purely subjective creatures temporally experiencing our own realities and when we sequester ourselves away from the world and cut all ties isn't this just the simplest thing? We spiral down into ourselves and build mighty towers out of our own thoughts, because conflict - cataclysmic, world-fucking-ending conflict - comes when our reality collides with everyone else's, doesn't it? It's so simple a thing to walk the vaunted halls of our own minds all on our own; because there we are kings and queens as well as the adoring, fearful, wondering subjects of our own divinity. It's only when we let others tread those hallowed boulevards that the stones start to break and the careful weaving starts to come undone at the seams and we start to question ourselves. Is this what god is? A sniveling, cowering wretch of a thing, wrapped up so tightly in its own schemata that it can no longer perceive that after that instant of creation and the fall so much change began to unravel, and it walks eternally in the perfect, unchanging moment of eternity where it alone held sway, right up until the point that it bequeathed us with the free will to choose whether we believed or whether we didn't? Is that it? Are we all just tiny little sparks of gods - specks, really - trying so, so vainly to make our spark shine just that little bit brighter upon the spectrum of all that is real, and true, and right?

2 spoke out | speak out