be thou my vision

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul’s Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

you and i - the scorpions

pictures

"Who are you?" A question that I ask myself when I look in the mirror and at one point I knew the answer to the question, I once knew who I was. Today I can barely recognise the eyes staring back at me. Who am I?

When I close my eyes, I find myself walking down a poorly lit hallway lined with pictures forming a collage that depicts what I think is supposed to be my life but I can't recognise the person in the pictures. The pictures are unfocused, scarred, incomplete. I can make no sense of what I see.

I see pain in one picture, sadness in another, revenge, anger, they are all pictures. I see joy, happiness. I see love. But that is the most scarred picture of them all. Tattered. Torn. A picture of loneliness.

Who am I? Do you know?

rage

The rage rises in my blood once again,
The hatred pounding in my skull once again,
The bloodlust returns, a broken soul's vengeance,
The abomination is taking control, I'm helpless again

I can taste hate's bitterness in my mouth,
I can feel its excitement as the cycle begins again,
I can feel the pressure in my head build as it asserts itself again,
My every fibre burns with hatred for you,

You ask me why? I answer,
You opened the flood gates,
You ask me how? I answer,
I loved you; you could not see it,

Now I loathe your presence,
Now I will cut your cancer from my heart,
Now the demon long buried returns,
Now this pain must die,

You must die, my bloodlust assuaged,
I must die; sins price my soul's suicide,
And I will laugh over your grave,
And I will cry over your grave,

Then there will be silence.

Note: In light of my more macabre posts, I've decided to dig one more up from my former self.

pain

i strike you down with my fist,
bleed my knuckles for you,
the skin split from the hit,
i relish the pain,

insolent creature unworthy of my time,
still in this undertaking i am exacting,
inflicting pain for you to learn,
understand that i rule over you,

against your face i rest my heel,
your humiliation complete,
you cry for mercy, plead to my humanity,
i laugh at your frailty,

humanity like morality a concept laughable,
manufactured by years of conditioning,
the world a slave to it submitting,
our ability to think eviscerating,

there is no mercy,
there is no humanity,
there is only pain,
there is only suffering,

pain clears us,
pain shapes us,
pain teaches us,
pain loves us,

we seek it,
we adore it,
we loathe it,
we make it,

yesterday foretold,
today brings you pain,
tomorrow will bring more,
a cycle that cannot end,

frigid

I am barely awake, drifting in and out of sleep. One foot in the waking world and the other in the dream scape, I hear the rain failing in the distance, I think it's rain. I barely register the flash then a loud crack and I'm stirred from my restless slumber, I take a moment to look around, it's dark and the room is featureless, where am I?

The night is cold and the rain is failing hard, there is a bitter taste in my mouth and a burning at the back of my head. I try to shake it off but the feeling remains. My hands are numb and my arms are heavy. Why? My body is unclothed.

I force myself up, the intensity of the burning increases tenfold and the room starts to spin. The pain forces me to my knees. I steady myself. The pain makes me feel sick, I retch but nothing comes out. The room keeps spinning but slower now, I'm dizzy. I muster all my resolve to stand to my feet. My legs are weak but slowly I stand up.

I see a door. I reach for it but not to open, to lean. I catch my breath, my knees almost give way again. I hold the handle, it's my only comfort. Slowly I turn the handle or did the handle turn itself? I don't know. I don't know. The door opens outwards and peer slowly out into darkness, I see the outline of a table and on it, something glinting, a shape I know. I am filled with dread. I push the door open and make my way slowly across the room to the table.

A knife! No not a knife, the handle is made of steel just like the blade, all one piece. A surgical instrument. A scalpel. I pick it up and it is suddenly familiar to me. The handle is cold against my skin. I run the blade gently down my chest, it leaves a line. It's still sharp. In the back of my mind someone says "Good, this will do". A stranger's voice and yet vaguely familiar. Another flash and the room is illuminated. In that instant I know I'm not alone. I saw her. Moving in the corner of the room. I think I saw her. Long hair, naked. I think I saw her. Who is she?

A giggle from where I saw her sends a shiver down my spine. I call out but with no voice. I hold the blade aside, ready to strike. My knees give way and I fall to the ground the pain is far worse. I hear it, movement. I perceive it. She's coming at me. She's moving quick. And when she's just upon me, I grab the blade and thrust upwards. I catch her square in the chest. I feel a warmth flow over my hands and hear a gasp escape her lips. I let go of the blade as she falls to the floor.

I lie there. I hear sobs coming from beside me. She's still alive. I push myself up and to look at my attackers face. I pull her close and slowly my eyes see hers. They are beautifully unfocused, dark eyes, tears in the corner. A fire barely there. I trace my hand over her face and it's all familiar. Who is she? Another flash and I see her complete. I know her. Oh my God what have I done. What have I done? Not her. Not her. What have I done. Tears are streaming down my face. My hands are shaking. Her eyes finally focus and they lock with mine. Her lips move the sound barely a whisper "I love you" and as the words escape her, the fire goes out in her eyes and all the warmth escapes her body.

The room is frigid. The voice comes to me again saying "Well done, there are more to come".

duality

I will crush you; my every fiber, my will bears down for the kill,

I will destroy you; your life is not worth the sand beneath my feet

I will finish you; death is your only solace now

I will feel no remorse; you deserve no further emotion

I hate you; these things you now must suffer

I am this raging fury, a burning inferno,

I am death’s hand, your soul’s devourer,

I am persecution, the whip that bleeds your back,

I am oppression, the weight upon your shoulder,

I am suffocation, the tightness you clutch at your chest,

I am reality, I am illusion,

I am night as surely as I am day,

I am a two sided coin of mirrored misery, I am duality

Note: I wrote this along time ago, it holds within it an anger I no longer feel but it once was real.

pathology

I see you scurrying about day to day,
From the shadows I observe,
For nought it serves,
All meaningless I say,

Insects, rodents and all manner of banal things,
You are all hopelessly caught up in the fray,
To see why you tick,
Maybe I should alleviate your pain,

I will dissect you piece by piece,
My scalpel cutting deep,
Piercing skin and flesh and bone,
Taking you apart, watching you bleed,

I shall prod and poke,
Till my inquiry is complete,
Consume you till I've had my fill,
Then discard you like filth beneath my feet,

From behind my mask I will smile,
While the people cheer,
As I pick the next one to die,
I can hear them say "Opus Dei"

Note: Opus Dei in this context is not a reference to the religious body affiliated to the catholic church. It means work of God in Latin.

depression

For the record I would like to state that I am not depressed. At least I believe that I am not.

Why bring this up?

Because I've had no end of grief from the people I'm closest to as they speculate my state of mind. It's depressing to be told that people think you're depressed. Especially when you believe you aren't. And really even if I am depressed, it's not like I'm suicidal.

I am not always a happy person. I realise that. So sue me.

Some mornings I wake up and just want to go back to bed and of late that's what I've been feeling. I get like this at the end of every semester. It's probably because I feel everything is spinning faster and faster and maybe even spiralling out of control. My apathy towards everything makes me feel worse for it. So some mornings when I wake up, I wake up and get hit by a big wave of how crappy things are. Some morning I just don't feel like being happy.

My insomnia robs me of a peaceful night's sleep. My nightmares rob me of a peaceful night's sleep.

Do you realise how miserable it is to be told you're depressed? By people you love?

I'm rambling. I'm rambling. RAMBLING!

Rambling here,
Words tripping on my lips,
Stammering the restless tongue,
I silence it with a blade,

Glossy they are reflecting sadness in my eyes,
They hiding a deeper sorrow inside,
Empty, hollow like starving children,
Reflecting but portraying not of the extent within,

The fire extinguishes for a soul gone cold
As my life plummets out of control,
The only fire left is on the end of a stick,
I light it up to find oblivion of self within my grip,

No reprieve, no repose from the wave I'm caught in,
Drowning, lungs screaming as I mutilate myself from within,
I'm burning, I'm burning, I'm burning,
With my eyes I'm screaming, the silence of it deafening,

Maybe you're listening when you see,
But your words only serve to hurt me,
I am failed can't you see,
I am a product of my own idiocy,

So maybe I'm depressed but telling me I am is not helping.

On a lighter note, I had lunch with Shazeea which was fun more for the conversations we have till the subject of my supposed depression came up but that was Shaneil's fault. Also it was Romi's birthday today and Sader came dressed most smashingly, that brightened up my rather quiet day. Brighten being a literal and metaphorical mode here. We had coffee, the three of us, talked, made much merriment with our banana chocolate chip cupcake at the starbucks in pyramid. The cupcake was Romi's "birthday cake". And we had lollies for candles, I got a cola one. Yay me!

I was quiet at dinner with Yasir and the others but yeah I get like that. It just means I'm elsewhere. Not because being elsewhere is more important or that being here is less important. I just am elsewhere. Sometimes I don't know how to get back.

And thus ends my rather random and seemingly depressing post.

Ice cream anyone?

more monty python

while none of this is my own monty python madness thanks to sader continues to rush about my head

King Arthur: I am your king.
Woman: Well I didn't vote for you.
King Arthur: You don't vote for kings.
Woman: Well how'd you become king then?
[Angelic music plays... ]
King Arthur: The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. THAT is why I am your king.
Dennis: [interrupting] Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.

1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: Who goes there?
King Arthur: It is I, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle of Camelot. King of the Britons, defeater of the Saxons, Sovereign of all England!
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: Pull the other one!
King Arthur: I am, and this is my trusty servant Patsy. We have ridden the length and breadth of the land in search of knights who will join me in my court at Camelot. I must speak with your lord and master.
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: What? Ridden on a horse?
King Arthur: Yes!
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: You're using coconuts!
King Arthur: What?
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: You've got two empty halves of coconut and you're bangin' 'em together.
King Arthur: So? We have ridden since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Mercia, through...
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: Where'd you get the coconuts?
King Arthur: We found them.
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: Found them? In Mercia? The coconut's tropical!
King Arthur: What do you mean?
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: Well, this is a temperate zone
King Arthur: The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land?
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?
King Arthur: Not at all. They could be carried.
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: What? A swallow carrying a coconut?
King Arthur: It could grip it by the husk!
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: It's not a question of where he grips it! It's a simple question of weight ratios! A five ounce bird could not carry a one pound coconut.
King Arthur: Well, it doesn't matter. Will you go and tell your master that Arthur from the Court of Camelot is here?
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: Listen. In order to maintain air-speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings forty-three times every second, right?
King Arthur: Please!
1st soldier with a keen interest in birds: Am I right?

Bridgekeeper: Stop. Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.
Sir Lancelot: Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I am not afraid.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your name?
Sir Lancelot: My name is Sir Lancelot of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your quest?
Sir Lancelot: To seek the Holy Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your favourite colour?
Sir Lancelot: Blue.
Bridgekeeper: Go on. Off you go.
Sir Lancelot: Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.
Sir Robin: That's easy.
Bridgekeeper: Stop. Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.
Sir Robin: Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I'm not afraid.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your name?
Sir Robin: Sir Robin of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your quest?
Sir Robin: To seek the Holy Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What... is the capital of Assyria?
[pause]
Sir Robin: I don't know that.
[he is thrown over the edge into the volcano]
Sir Robin: Auuuuuuuugh.
Bridgekeeper: Stop. What... is your name?
Galahad: Sir Galahad of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your quest?
Galahad: I seek the Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your favourite colour?
Galahad: Blue. No, yel...
[he is also thrown over the edge]
Galahad: auuuuuuuugh.
Bridgekeeper: Hee hee heh. Stop. What... is your name?
King Arthur: It is 'Arthur', King of the Britons.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your quest?
King Arthur: To seek the Holy Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What... is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?
King Arthur: What do you mean? An African or European swallow?
Bridgekeeper: Huh? I... I don't know that.
[he is thrown over]
Bridgekeeper: Auuuuuuuugh.
Sir Bedevere: How do know so much about swallows?
King Arthur: Well, you have to know these things when you're a king, you know.

Tim: There he is!
King Arthur: Where?
Tim: There!
King Arthur: What? Behind the rabbit?
Tim: It *is* the rabbit!
King Arthur: You silly sod!
Tim: What?
King Arthur: You got us all worked up!
Tim: Well, that's no ordinary rabbit.
King Arthur: Ohh.
Tim: That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!
Sir Robin: You tit! I soiled my armor I was so scared!
Tim: Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer!
Sir Galahad: Get stuffed!
Tim: He'll do you up a treat, mate.
Sir Galahad: Oh, yeah?
Sir Robin: You manky Scots git!
Tim: I'm warning you!
Sir Robin: What's he do? Nibble your bum?
Tim: He's got huge, sharp... er... He can leap about. Look at the bones!
King Arthur: Go on, Bors. Chop his head off!
Sir Bors: Right! Silly little bleeder. One rabbit stew comin' right up!

random things

sader and i talk Monty Python today,

a little dialogue regarding the holy hand grenade of Antioch from Monty Python and the Holy Grail

O Lord, bless this Thy hand grenade that with it Thou mayest blow Thine enemies to tiny bits, in Thy mercy." And the Lord did grin and the people did feast upon the lambs and sloths and carp and anchovies and orangutans and breakfast cereals, and fruit bats and large chu...

"skip a bit brother"

And the Lord spake, saying, "First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin, then shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it." Amen

this post is pointless

as are most things i do but i still do them, though today was not as pointless as this post, i enjoyed it immensely, it was a sleepy day and i haven't had a good sleepy day in such a long time.

what is a sleepy day?

well it's a day where i get nothing by the world's standards done, nothing tangible accomplished, it's a day where i lie on my bed staring at the ceiling with another person next to me and talk about everything and nothing.

today's was especially good because it's been ages since i've had company on a sleepy day and the ability to have someone to share a completely unproductive day with was amazing.

this sleepy day was different from the ones before, i left my home in the morning met the other person, went for lunch, had coffee and then only got home to space out.

as with all my sleepy days, they're never planned, they just happen and the conversations are always awesome.

i'm glad i had today.

and sometimes i get bored

If I shot the sheriff, I wouldn't write a song about it let alone talk about the deputy.

If I thought the sky was falling, the only thing I'd be shouting is "move bitches get out the way, I gotta find me a cave"

If I was in the happening, I would have acted better than Mark Wahlberg and those bloody trees would have been shitting acorns.

If I was a director, I would have taught the guy who filmed cloverfield how to steady the camera, also I would have actually had some cloves in the movie, also I would have had an actual plot and the chick would have died from her wounds before the bomb blew them up.

If I was on a planet full of apes, I would bring some bananas with me.

If I was darwin, I would have had a pet beagle aboard the HMS Beagle

echoes, silence, patience, grace - an anarchist's view

I scribbled a version of this on Shazeea's facebook wall. I was proud of it and so at 4am I'm awake adding to it for my blog.

Between the poignant and morose echoes of the past ever fading from our memories and the eerie silence of an ominous tomorrow, we live with our eyes clothed in a translucent film of guile, convincing ourselves of a certainty in today and the seconds that have passed with no inkling of the second to come.

What then can be said of our patience? Save that it is an imposed device for we have no means to alter the time it takes for the second to passes us by. Patience is not resolve, it's how we resign ourselves to our fate. There is no beauty in this mechanism, no charm in this construct. Grace is a farce.

the nicene creed

A summary of my faith, the Nicene Creed. It took the council of Nicea 3 months to agree on the first sentence alone. Much thought was put into its writing. It is a work of art. The translation from Greek/Latin that I have chosen is from the Anglican Communion book of common prayer of 1662. It is a version that I've said in church for years as an affirmation of my faith. I lack the intellect to have ever been able to construct so amazing a creed or summary of the Christian faith. I wanted to share it with you.

I believe in one God the Father Almighty,
Maker of heaven and earth,
And of all things visible and invisible:

And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God,
Begotten of his Father before all worlds,
God of God, Light of Light,
Very God of very God,
Begotten, not made,
Being of one substance with the Father,
By whom all things were made;
Who for us men, and for our salvation came down from heaven,
And was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary,
And was made man,
And was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate.
He suffered and was buried,
And the third day he rose again according to the Scriptures,
And ascended into heaven,
And sitteth on the right hand of the Father.
And he shall come again with glory to judge both the quick and the dead:
Whose kingdom shall have no end.

And I believe in the Holy Ghost,
The Lord and giver of life,
Who proceedeth from the Father and the Son,
Who with the Father and the Son together is worshipped and glorified,
Who spake by the Prophets.
And I believe one Catholic and Apostolic Church.
I acknowledge one Baptism for the remission of sins.
And I look for the Resurrection of the dead,
And the life of the world to come.
Amen.

who we are

We are who we are because we choose to be,
I am who I am because I choose to be, the same can be said of you,
You are more than the sum of your parts,
More than this shell of crude flesh,
You are beautiful you need only choose to be so.

I have seen you, I have seen beneath the shroud
And I know you are good,
I know you are beautiful,
Products of nature, products of nurture it matters not,
choice is always within your grasp.

sophism: "i love you"

Sophism: A plausible but fallacious argument. An example, I love you.

Over the last couple of years, I have come to believe that people have made "I love you" a specious statement. One whose argument has become a fallacy, for more often then not when a person says "I love you" they invariably mean "please love me". And in most cases there is no "please", it just reads "love me!".

Why so jaded you might ask? Why so cynical?

I've heard this particular exchange of words so often and then rescinded at the first sign of trouble, it has made me question how genuine the love was in the first place and I've come to despise those words for the most part believing that we say it selfishly to incite a similar and favourable response from the other person. After all everyone wants to believe that they are loved.

However before I go any further, I would like to say that I do believe there are people who genuinely exchange these words in order to open a conduit to an actual feeling inside, opening up to another human being hoping, without expecting to be loved in return. Loving because of what you can do for the other person, not because of what they can do for you. I've witnessed such exchanges first hand rare as they may be.

Still my cynicism tells me that particular unselfish love hardly exists in the world today. Maybe I write this because I believe I am not capable of selfless love and therefore am projecting my inability on the populace at large. I don't think so. Most who know me, know otherwise.

So what makes me the supreme authority on all things human?

I reckon I'm human and that should give me some credibility. I don't think myself the supreme authority on anything with exception of bitter sweet chocolate of which I believe myself to be a connoisseur. Yes indeed bitter sweet chocolate I love. Back to the topic at hand, it's like someone close to me said, I observe a great many things and observing people is one of my favourite pastimes.

Am I condemning people?

Yes. If each person saying the words believes the other person then there can exist a fostered love. A love nurtured on falsity and like all things based on a lie, it can and most probably will fall through. My condemnation rests on our inability to give of ourselves. We may put it down to being only human, our excuse for all our failings. However I know we are all more than capable of loving unselfishly, we're just afraid and we're afraid because deep down we're all just bit a cynical and we're all just a bit wary & weary of the other person.

mortality: God's gift to humanity

Immortality

If you could, would you live forever?

I don't think I would.

I believe it is our frailty, our mortality that makes us beautiful. The very fact that every second that passes us by is a second closer to our death makes the next second to come even more precious than the one that passed. I realize that sounds depressing and it is if you only focus on death and if you fear it. I believe because our time on earth is numbered it makes the smile on the face in front of you or the laugh of the person beside you or simply the eyes of the person across the hall from you all that more amazing to behold.

So it would seem to me that immortality on earth would only cheapen the experience. The smile, the laugh, the eyes would all be so banal. Losing all charm and what would be the point of living if everything around you lost its flavor. What then? I believe mortality is God's gift to us. We really should learn to cherish the time we've been allotted and make the most of the smiles and the laughs and people that are sent our way. I am learning to do that.

I'm continually star struck by how amazing some the people I meet are. Their little quirks and idiosyncrasies making them more than the sum their parts. These fascinating people are usually more aware of the world around them. They are not the stereotypes. In a world of the mundane, they see newness. I find them utterly fascinating. Maybe they see life like me. Maybe I'm more aware of the world around me.

I have these people in my heart. I hope I'm in theirs.