Madness...

What is this thing called madness?

It is actually a state of being.  Between the plain of man and the ethereal.  The place where you no longer know what is real and react to all.  I am at that place but I know better.  I can detail what is true and what isn't...all based on what I call "spiritual sense".

On one side, I see a beautiful world without care and consequence.  On the other...I see a world that is cruel and punishing.  Which one corresponds to me?  I really don't know yet but I will allow them to play themselves out.  Who I am lays squarely between the two know that all my faces carry regret.  Every one of them has a price to pay...and pay them gladly, I will.  The one that remains is seldom ever the one you "create"...because in the very end the one you are endures...

I will endure no matter what.  Attend yourself to the song I chose in madness...yes, I am beautiful...

My Job...

"I run away from you

Into your dream I lose the one

That I was in when you told me

That I could never meet my friends

Again"



You ever wonder...

What drives a man of intense passion?

The freedom of an accomplished task?  The sigh of a satisfied woman?  It is the knowledge of  a sacrificed soul done what he can.  I am made for such a thing.  I am made for such times as these.  Though my world be crumbling around me, I will still offer all they want...because they need it.  I am all they said I am.  They see it more so than I ever could and they drive me.  To heights and fantasies they never thought could be possible.  I am that man. 

Time to embrace him I guess...

The Plight...

Nights unstable.  Pills and booze don't kick in till about an hour or so.  You hate tomorrow.  Everyone with bad news is awake during the day.  Empty days skirt your passion because that brings you joy.  No time for such luxuries.  No time for diversion.  Calculations and firefighting...with no hope in sight.  You fear the beauty of dreams you know you have to wake up from so you avoid them altogether.  Sheltered from joy.  Yet you push because you know...you're still alive.  Knowing there is better.  What's the quickest route?  Your mind won't let that question go.  You know...there IS an answer.  You know there has to be an answer.

There IS an answer.  Stay alive...it will come...

...the plight of the one who knows he has to die to be able to finally live...

My tribute to pink by carly7

http://soundcloud.com/carly7/my-tribute-to-pink

I met this singer by chance and have truly fallen in love with her music.  I see the beginnings of something great because it is made for her alone.  Others will hear it and do their best to relate but the greatest compliment will come from those who can't.  It speaks to them in a way they cannot understand...but what they do understand is a voice of honesty worth listening to.  Just listen...you will be blessed :-)

The Cancerous Patient...

So what happens when a man is told he only has 34 days left to live in an environment he's been fasioned to for years?  What happens when they tell him "everything you knew will cease to exist as you know it today"..."things will drastically change for you and there is nothing left but to accept that change"

Heh...he feels liberated...

"Stuff" is akin to an albatross within our human existance.  When we analyze all we have and all we do;  asking ourselves "in this list...what can I truly live without?" I am surprised the little that's left.  I am surprised at what little we actuallyneed to live yet have given power to in the category of "the superfluous".  All the useless that has bound us to worry and fret.  Needlessly meandering about the next wave of trouble.  What more do you need but yourself and your God?  I can no longer answer this question...

So what does the cancerous patient do with his limited time?  He has Twinkies for dinner.  He wakes up at 4 in the afternoon.  He doesn't speak to a soul and he hopes everyone understands.  He stops breathing.  He looks at those 34 days as a countdown to a new life...a better life.

What will he be at the end of all this?  What will rise out of the ashes...out of the darkness?  I don't know...God, I really wish I knew...

Barnabas...



The king sits in a room alone anesthetized by suffered vision.  With eyes closed he looks up and sees a great man about to die.  A man with the ability to kill because he knew how to heal.  A man with the ability to steal because he knew how to protect that which was most valuable.  A man torn by two worlds that found nobility in each and kept what was most useful to him.  Through the mist of panorama the king now sees the mans death...

His procession is one fit for an ancient king.  A casket of glass, flowers and music interlaced with stringed instruments.  Mourners gather in the hundreds with nothing to say.  Nothing to share.  Whatever memory they had of him...was private.  Why did they mourn?  Why were they there?  What was he to them?  He never knew.  He never accepted his impact so as to keep himself steady.  He was a shadow behind the greats.  A momentary whisper of encouragement in the wind.  A moment to remember...

The king now knows his name...Barnabas...

Missa Defunctorum...

What more can be said that hasn't been said already...silence is my remedy...

Dreams...

This past week has been a week of vivid dreams but this morning I woke up from one of the most vivid dreams Ive had in awhile.  Someone I knew that I had not seen in about a year was here.  Nudging at me to wake up as she sat at the side of my bed.  She had let herself in because she has always had a set of keys.  I woke up a bit shocked that someone was there, rubbed my eyes and said "hello".  It was actually cool to see her again.  Yet I saw her differently.  Like she "belonged" yet at the same time...didn't.  Like she "fit" but only for a season.  It was as though this is the way it was always meant to be.  She was just passin through...until next time.

Time has allowed me to see and accept many things.  The permanence of a few even though they are absent.  Even though there is silence...it makes no difference.  I do hope that wherever she is, she's living up to all the great things I saw in her.  There were many...

Behind The Smoke...

"Behind the smoke, there lies a fine line of purpose and circumstance.  To frustrate, to maim and to impassion.  To make you who you are meant to be...sedated..."

Words of a poet tossed about by Absinthe, thought and his hookah pipe.  Words written in haze with a tinge of lucidity.  With trouble surrounding his essence he no longer feels a thing.  He no longer allows entrance into his "being".  He remains as he is meant to be...a man sedated.  Sedated by the knowledge that all things will fall into place as they must.  Sedated by the knowledge that destiny is destiny as fate is fate.  Knocking on every door without allowing depression to set when they do not open.  He's become even more resigned.

His Absinthe and his hookah pipe have become the knowledge of truth.  The simple truth that peace will only come from the inside out.  The place where perspective manifests itself into reality.  What will be, will be...acceptance...