The melancholy of a broken spirit
That shattered across the desolate space
Of bitterness and cruel hatred
Of the evil blood moon that howls
At the putrid air of degradation
The vile corruption of the black river Nile
The tainted Euphrates from pandemonic Eden
The fiery blaze of hell's return
The eyes of the devil's advocate
Piercing the shield of human dignity
Destroying all worth
Fouling all value
Devastating the land of grace, of bliss
Capped anxiety, hug me tight
Suffocate me in your sorrowful spite!
The death of the wretched is the wealth of the world. To keep upon the light is to burn the body into ashes. The unbroken chain of evil, released at the beginning, is nothing but a jail for the crudeness of life. The ability to do is the intuition to think of what would happen moments and millenia after. The propagation of action is a continuous flow of what has been and what could not be in the reference frame. The flow of time is the movement of the soul across the boundaries of physical and invisible, exerting upon the entropy of the universe a force that is opposite yet unequal. The fire which gives life to people is a power that drives perpetuity into place, moving the gears of luck, destiny, chance and probability. The world is full of what the mind can perceive, and this in itself is magic.
There is a death that kills the whole existence of what can exist, and it is that which consumes the desire of life for its perpetuation. The death resides in the gradual ceasing of the flame, which burns down into ashes and becomes the barren dust of chaos and nothingness. The inorganic world would continue to degrade without purpose and without essence, and total annihilation even of the reason to exist would happen. Thus there would be no world, no sky to look out upon the black empty space of negative identity...which would bring the catastrophe of the known universe. There would be a self-consuming event that crashes all matter into itself for the lack of repulsion between differences of identity, and matter disappears. There would be darkness. There would be chaos. There would be light.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Destruction
A million occurrences every second hit the history database. Billions of people, trillions of point of views, each moment reaps a multifaceted diamond of memory, bound to be kept or ignored 'til dusted. The jewel maker is unceasing, operative despite decay and entropy; in fact, both act as cogs for the perpetual motion machine of the ethereal verse. Yet this orrery is immaterial, lacking structure and tangibility; it is fluid. Thus the idiosyncratic vision shapes the machine itself, and the machine takes its own form. And every form of the billions of visionaries
Exists.
What is the purpose of the event maker? Or should it be the memory factory? Within the fabric of synthetic interactions lies the commanding official, the master to which history is a slave of. Whims of whimsical creatures, insights of the gifted, all occurrences become the sugar and spice of a melting pot of differences. Plurality of opinion carves the eternal space-time continuum, and the random probabilities create a balancing nature in the products. It is never random, however, as the human entity is but a singular organism. Thus cavities and protrusions give patterned sculptures, humanoid and eccentric, outstanding in its own sense.
And flawed, in a general sense.
Humaneness has always upheld unity despite diversity, the electric impulse among the sea of particles. It resists erosion, defies chaos and recreates the universe into the valid. It is, however, of a pooled consciousness with a common linkage and a shared administration. This creates a vacuum of vulnerability, as internal corruption could simply reverse its goals its goals without any of its parts noticing. The majority effect can allow error overrides, and in no time the essence of humanity can destroy itself.
Once destroyed, harmony is at last achieved.
Or is it?
Exists.
What is the purpose of the event maker? Or should it be the memory factory? Within the fabric of synthetic interactions lies the commanding official, the master to which history is a slave of. Whims of whimsical creatures, insights of the gifted, all occurrences become the sugar and spice of a melting pot of differences. Plurality of opinion carves the eternal space-time continuum, and the random probabilities create a balancing nature in the products. It is never random, however, as the human entity is but a singular organism. Thus cavities and protrusions give patterned sculptures, humanoid and eccentric, outstanding in its own sense.
And flawed, in a general sense.
Humaneness has always upheld unity despite diversity, the electric impulse among the sea of particles. It resists erosion, defies chaos and recreates the universe into the valid. It is, however, of a pooled consciousness with a common linkage and a shared administration. This creates a vacuum of vulnerability, as internal corruption could simply reverse its goals its goals without any of its parts noticing. The majority effect can allow error overrides, and in no time the essence of humanity can destroy itself.
Once destroyed, harmony is at last achieved.
Or is it?
Monday, August 3, 2009
Mood
Sunny, rainy, cloudy, windy; springy, fallen, wintry, sky; cool, fresh, breeze, water; green, mist, sunlight, life
Flapping, rustle, tweet, kapoosh; thudding, beat, drumming, roll; repeat, delete, parade, justify; tweak, flop, ding, bash
Water, cold, living, wood; soiled, rock, mossy, dew; concrete, dry, lighted, hot; furious, tired, walking, horn
Orchestrate, harmonize; twinkle, gaze; inspire, amaze; flow, spin, dance
Flapping, rustle, tweet, kapoosh; thudding, beat, drumming, roll; repeat, delete, parade, justify; tweak, flop, ding, bash
Water, cold, living, wood; soiled, rock, mossy, dew; concrete, dry, lighted, hot; furious, tired, walking, horn
Orchestrate, harmonize; twinkle, gaze; inspire, amaze; flow, spin, dance
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Detachment and Impurity
The feeling of change brings about a kind of pang whenever one is caught unprepared (which is most of the time). That pang turns into disgust, however, when one scrutinizes further upon the transistasis that is going on.
Two cases can be cited, one self-inflicting and the other obliging. For some adequate reasons of more gravity and immediate need, the latter case becomes more disturbing. In one of the bottom populations of the impoverished places of a poor country, the people are wrapped in a dimension of self-deception. At such a time of exploration, one would be startled as to how extensive this "curiosity" is, and it can rightfully be called an atrocity instead. The intricate workings of the young mind is at work, but given ample exposure to the vices of the elder populace this sophistication is mingled with sin that develops into a unique evil itself. The newly elected members of the legal world boast of achievements even senior citizens would admit to have gotten just now. Machismo perspectives, feminine initiation rites, and heterosexual norms are simply too vulgar to both the moral and the innocent perspective (though these two can be taken as one and the same). The peak of popularity by physical wealth i.e. beauty, wealth, power has shifted, and is not on the old social structures as one might think but rather on the youthful organizational units. The devil should be this desperate, and the end of the world this near.
The former would entail a more personal insight, and a much more emotional bearing upon the discussion. As a person living a life that is stable, one would bear the woe of unfulfilled dreams and unquenched aspirations. That is, one who stays with his homeland feels stagnant and low. On the other end, however, the person who pursues his dreams would end up being haunted by the feeling of loneliness, coupled by a doubt upon the true value of his goals. This person moves on to a brighter future, but leaves behind too many memories that might only remain as they are. The things he leaves behind would haunt him every now and then, and he becomes lured to the illusion of selective homeostasis even when he himself is changing rapidly. Every so often he clings to the hope of participation even amidst his being alone among a crowd of strangers who know each other. He endures loneliness, seeing the refuge of his birthplace as a source of hope. If by chance, however, he is able to return, he realizes that he is no longer welcome to that place, that the people have changed just as he did. He longs to feed on the fruits of his past, but realizes that the trees have become too old to flower. Instead the field is blossoming with new kinds of plants, all of which are foreign and all too unfamiliar for him to eat.
And he feels detached. From the world.
And to complicate things what if a transition through social classes is involved? What if it was a poor kid who was able to break free from a lack of opportunity, tastes something of the privileged person's lifestyle, but he realizes that it is too temporary and that he still is not welcome in such a society, and when he goes back to his own world finds out he has changed too much to be part of it, and has instead become a civilized yet down-to-earth person too poor to take part in the modern world yet too moral to follow the brash ways of his own kin?
Butuan, I see too much evil in you.
Davao, I have to leave you for my future.
Manila, I cannot afford your ways.
Heaven, am I welcome?
Two cases can be cited, one self-inflicting and the other obliging. For some adequate reasons of more gravity and immediate need, the latter case becomes more disturbing. In one of the bottom populations of the impoverished places of a poor country, the people are wrapped in a dimension of self-deception. At such a time of exploration, one would be startled as to how extensive this "curiosity" is, and it can rightfully be called an atrocity instead. The intricate workings of the young mind is at work, but given ample exposure to the vices of the elder populace this sophistication is mingled with sin that develops into a unique evil itself. The newly elected members of the legal world boast of achievements even senior citizens would admit to have gotten just now. Machismo perspectives, feminine initiation rites, and heterosexual norms are simply too vulgar to both the moral and the innocent perspective (though these two can be taken as one and the same). The peak of popularity by physical wealth i.e. beauty, wealth, power has shifted, and is not on the old social structures as one might think but rather on the youthful organizational units. The devil should be this desperate, and the end of the world this near.
The former would entail a more personal insight, and a much more emotional bearing upon the discussion. As a person living a life that is stable, one would bear the woe of unfulfilled dreams and unquenched aspirations. That is, one who stays with his homeland feels stagnant and low. On the other end, however, the person who pursues his dreams would end up being haunted by the feeling of loneliness, coupled by a doubt upon the true value of his goals. This person moves on to a brighter future, but leaves behind too many memories that might only remain as they are. The things he leaves behind would haunt him every now and then, and he becomes lured to the illusion of selective homeostasis even when he himself is changing rapidly. Every so often he clings to the hope of participation even amidst his being alone among a crowd of strangers who know each other. He endures loneliness, seeing the refuge of his birthplace as a source of hope. If by chance, however, he is able to return, he realizes that he is no longer welcome to that place, that the people have changed just as he did. He longs to feed on the fruits of his past, but realizes that the trees have become too old to flower. Instead the field is blossoming with new kinds of plants, all of which are foreign and all too unfamiliar for him to eat.
And he feels detached. From the world.
And to complicate things what if a transition through social classes is involved? What if it was a poor kid who was able to break free from a lack of opportunity, tastes something of the privileged person's lifestyle, but he realizes that it is too temporary and that he still is not welcome in such a society, and when he goes back to his own world finds out he has changed too much to be part of it, and has instead become a civilized yet down-to-earth person too poor to take part in the modern world yet too moral to follow the brash ways of his own kin?
Butuan, I see too much evil in you.
Davao, I have to leave you for my future.
Manila, I cannot afford your ways.
Heaven, am I welcome?
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Man Shall Live!
In the event that the world is extinguished, man will live on. And this is a matter of fact.
The immediate reasons for the discussion of an absurd idea is limited to the opinion of a misfortuned audience. It has, however, become exceedingly important in infinitesimal proportions. The notion of a defeated man amongst the monsters he has created is a widespread agenda, one which many holds prophetic and inevitable. The current degeneration of man and society and the physical world it lives on points directly to an apocalyptic disappearance of life itself. The universal law of increasing entropy drains power to all ideas which defy destruction. And the suicidal culture which pervades the world through addictive pleasures and ecstatic illusions brings about the non-fictional tragic novel that everyone reads, sees, and hears (though the latter is somewhat helpful in stopping the population explosion, it should be apparent with further research on other environmental sources that too much culling would lead to a population crash). This hellish perspective is bound to be thrown to itself, however.
The open system with which living things operate cannot continue on its own. The close association of all life in the biosphere is what poets and biologists deeply acknowledge. The circle is not a simple one, however; each link is a level higher. This impossible but real relation can be likened to a surreal river which flows round itself. The circle of life is also the pyramid of levels. To further confuse the analogy, the pyramid's bottom is as high as the pyramid's top. How would that be? Tracing the lineage of organisms from the most primitive to the most modern, the development is apparent. Life formed itself into bigger units, with greater complexity. Thus is the move from the unicellular to the multicellular (and if science fiction would be right, to multi-organism). At first look this is a linear progression, from something crude to something better. It is a very important thing to note, however, that unicellular life has advantages over multicellular life, and vice-versa. That is, bacteria possess better survivability than humans. The diversity of conditions that these single cells can live on – from the extreme conditions of temperature, salinity, etc to the median of which we could call “normal” - they simply cannot be eliminated. And they, in association with viruses (of which, even if there are strong arguments against its being “living”, can give rise to life i.e. evolve into a living thing if the need arises), are in many ways indestructible. On the other hand, however, is the complexity with which even man cannot understand, and which renders invincibility in one way or another. It is the difficulty of a brain contemplating itself, but the other end of the spectrum could be roughly labeled as “reason” with adequate logicality. The way bacteria survive is by mere adaptibility through simplicity; man, on the other hand, survives by adaptation through intelligence. If a bacteria can live by altering itself to suit the situation, man is known to alter situations to suit himself. In some ways technology is limited, but in the core of each one's hearts is the truth that time is science's only constraint. Thus the human end of the pyramid defies entropy through understanding.
Of course, one would be disturbed by this mad-scientist point of view. It should be clarified, however, that the term “reason” is not limited to science. Faith has logic in itself, and the spirit is ever as powerful as matter.
Thus man will survive. If the world degenerates, man would be able to refresh it. If Earth explodes, then other planets would be colonized. If the universe collapses, then dimension-hopping would be the solution. And if Armageddon comes, then let us all be saved by the cross!
The immediate reasons for the discussion of an absurd idea is limited to the opinion of a misfortuned audience. It has, however, become exceedingly important in infinitesimal proportions. The notion of a defeated man amongst the monsters he has created is a widespread agenda, one which many holds prophetic and inevitable. The current degeneration of man and society and the physical world it lives on points directly to an apocalyptic disappearance of life itself. The universal law of increasing entropy drains power to all ideas which defy destruction. And the suicidal culture which pervades the world through addictive pleasures and ecstatic illusions brings about the non-fictional tragic novel that everyone reads, sees, and hears (though the latter is somewhat helpful in stopping the population explosion, it should be apparent with further research on other environmental sources that too much culling would lead to a population crash). This hellish perspective is bound to be thrown to itself, however.
The open system with which living things operate cannot continue on its own. The close association of all life in the biosphere is what poets and biologists deeply acknowledge. The circle is not a simple one, however; each link is a level higher. This impossible but real relation can be likened to a surreal river which flows round itself. The circle of life is also the pyramid of levels. To further confuse the analogy, the pyramid's bottom is as high as the pyramid's top. How would that be? Tracing the lineage of organisms from the most primitive to the most modern, the development is apparent. Life formed itself into bigger units, with greater complexity. Thus is the move from the unicellular to the multicellular (and if science fiction would be right, to multi-organism). At first look this is a linear progression, from something crude to something better. It is a very important thing to note, however, that unicellular life has advantages over multicellular life, and vice-versa. That is, bacteria possess better survivability than humans. The diversity of conditions that these single cells can live on – from the extreme conditions of temperature, salinity, etc to the median of which we could call “normal” - they simply cannot be eliminated. And they, in association with viruses (of which, even if there are strong arguments against its being “living”, can give rise to life i.e. evolve into a living thing if the need arises), are in many ways indestructible. On the other hand, however, is the complexity with which even man cannot understand, and which renders invincibility in one way or another. It is the difficulty of a brain contemplating itself, but the other end of the spectrum could be roughly labeled as “reason” with adequate logicality. The way bacteria survive is by mere adaptibility through simplicity; man, on the other hand, survives by adaptation through intelligence. If a bacteria can live by altering itself to suit the situation, man is known to alter situations to suit himself. In some ways technology is limited, but in the core of each one's hearts is the truth that time is science's only constraint. Thus the human end of the pyramid defies entropy through understanding.
Of course, one would be disturbed by this mad-scientist point of view. It should be clarified, however, that the term “reason” is not limited to science. Faith has logic in itself, and the spirit is ever as powerful as matter.
Thus man will survive. If the world degenerates, man would be able to refresh it. If Earth explodes, then other planets would be colonized. If the universe collapses, then dimension-hopping would be the solution. And if Armageddon comes, then let us all be saved by the cross!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Sonnet Rage
To taste the fine air in this Earth
The moment of life which runs fast
It's but a period, death and birth
And everything which does not last
Yet dreams woven and passions baked
Till gems of satisfaction fade
Ambitions pushed high, desires staked
And persons bring you harm and aid
The end is a veiled ecstasy
Through thorns and roses is the way
Yet living is a fallacy
If to live's but living today
Then what does this conundrum mean
If life's purpose has never been?
Standing by the moonlit river
The rustling woods, the chilling air
The stars that seem to dance and quiver
There is no cure to grave despair
As the howls of the wind dissolve
So are the cries of cowardice
The single flare of act involve
The surest path to a dead bliss
For nothing is yet worse enough
Than the murder of happiness
The absolute freeze, a grim trough
The downward wave of loneliness
The greatest frustration abounds
When decisions are without grounds
The sands that flow away unstopped
Drain finite possibilities
One's reflections unsure, abrupt
Vague objects become certainties
Motives behind all previous acts
Wasteful deceit and vanity
When one discovers what one lacks
Fulfillment's disability
Keeping promises is one thing
Pay debts, tell truths, smile, sing a song
Principles entail everything
To obey for safety is wrong
Simple as it seems, it's not all
For at it's best death deserves a call
Sick as the livid muck of blood
Throbbing termination at stake
Untamed emotions gush and flood
To a deadly sulfuric lake
Tremble, ye who destroys poor lives
The torture is yet to come by
When disease and fire and deadly knives
Fall down the blood-strewn sky
Marching bands of cosmic beings
And minions of the hideous beast
All of pain's repugnant siblings
Clamor for the infernal feast
What a pity, what a sight it should have been
For the evil-doers to be caught in between!
To remember things created
In a lifetime which would not last
And a self that's isolated
One holds on to what is dearest
Whatever that something could be
To bliss or that which would be nearest
But that is a cruel decree
For man, as he can be the worst
He carries a dignified face
In nobility his is first
There's none a more chivalrous race
And as I gaze through the looking glass
My friends are there, having a class!
Time, that which flies across the sky
Like an eagle, lives on its claws
Like a leech, draining man's life dry
A soldier charging without pause
Many have sought to turn it back
Or retard its unchallenged march
Eternity, they seem to lack
The sea of seconds they parch
Yet all comprehend how they're in vain
To battle the gentle keeper
For, fearing age, in youth they are slain
And they sink even deeper
But wisdom owl speaks of one adage
Time is generous; it is we who should change
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