Lux aeterna.
I woke up at 2:40am flustered and terrified. I felt my mind imploding. There was a sudden flurry of images and words that whizzed by my eyes that I couldn't entirely grasp. My brain felt as if it was shrinking, overwhelmed by this moment of medicated clarity that frightened me. The following piece is an attempt to tame that moment. To those who will read this: forgive the incoherent ramblings to follow.
---
You think you're happy but you're not. You think you are alive but you've been a corpse for too long. Too long, in fact. It is not the one life you have that you cling to for sanity but you cling to others as well. Essentially, life is without meaning if not lived for another. In its core substance, the spirit often mistakes happiness for a myriad of things, as far disconnected from reverie and reality as it can possible be. It is merely the vessel or the body that exalts itself to an ethereal form of being which resembles all the misconceptions inhabiting the heart of man: love, family, friendship, grief and being human. The soul remains grounded at all times, as if it is a shard of glass permeating the earth's soil, fragmented, broken and resembling a precious gem at its rawest state. The bottom line is: We never recognize broken glass until we get wounded and bleed because of it.
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Purple. Candy. Mortar. Withal.
---
How brave is a human being? What lengths is he willing to go to and for what? If there is only one story worth telling and that is redemption, then why do we busy ourselves with retribution and regret instead? We keep working under the presumption that all of us are worthy of sacrifice, yet we keep making less and less of these as we go along. Would it kill us to simply let go?
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I will remake the 1970 film "The Bird With The Crystal Plumage" by age 35.
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Your writhing body--
Unravels the naked truth:
Semen mixed with blood.
---
Be a child again, angel. Drown yourself with the people you love the most and the things that make you smile. Remember the time when you made decisions quickly. And when you always cried for only the right reasons. And not for anything else. Not for anything else.
---
We're young. We'd like to think we experience romance everyday, as a routine. Just like shopping for deodorant. But, ultimately, we are never sure. It is when we grow old and wither into shadows of our youth that we experience true romance. It is because lust, infatuation, appropriateness, security and other lesser things we usually equate with love are stripped from us. When we have nothing left but the rest of our lives to reflect on how well we aged: whether we turned into wine or to vinegar. When you see old couples caught in an embrace or holding each other's hands, be envious. We have only felt 1/3 of what they are experiencing at that moment.
---
Color is unique to a human being. Of all the creatures on earth, it is only the human who can distinguish and appreciate color. I'd like to think that colors are coded messages from God. Just like after the Great Flood, when God sent Noah a rainbow. Only the humans in the ark understood what it meant. The animals couldn't care less. But the people equated it with hope. So when someone makes your life colorful, they are, in actuality, making you closer to God.
---
Once again. I am sorry for the incoherent ramblings.
Have a nice day.
---
You think you're happy but you're not. You think you are alive but you've been a corpse for too long. Too long, in fact. It is not the one life you have that you cling to for sanity but you cling to others as well. Essentially, life is without meaning if not lived for another. In its core substance, the spirit often mistakes happiness for a myriad of things, as far disconnected from reverie and reality as it can possible be. It is merely the vessel or the body that exalts itself to an ethereal form of being which resembles all the misconceptions inhabiting the heart of man: love, family, friendship, grief and being human. The soul remains grounded at all times, as if it is a shard of glass permeating the earth's soil, fragmented, broken and resembling a precious gem at its rawest state. The bottom line is: We never recognize broken glass until we get wounded and bleed because of it.
---
Purple. Candy. Mortar. Withal.
---
How brave is a human being? What lengths is he willing to go to and for what? If there is only one story worth telling and that is redemption, then why do we busy ourselves with retribution and regret instead? We keep working under the presumption that all of us are worthy of sacrifice, yet we keep making less and less of these as we go along. Would it kill us to simply let go?
---
I will remake the 1970 film "The Bird With The Crystal Plumage" by age 35.
---
Your writhing body--
Unravels the naked truth:
Semen mixed with blood.
---
Be a child again, angel. Drown yourself with the people you love the most and the things that make you smile. Remember the time when you made decisions quickly. And when you always cried for only the right reasons. And not for anything else. Not for anything else.
---
We're young. We'd like to think we experience romance everyday, as a routine. Just like shopping for deodorant. But, ultimately, we are never sure. It is when we grow old and wither into shadows of our youth that we experience true romance. It is because lust, infatuation, appropriateness, security and other lesser things we usually equate with love are stripped from us. When we have nothing left but the rest of our lives to reflect on how well we aged: whether we turned into wine or to vinegar. When you see old couples caught in an embrace or holding each other's hands, be envious. We have only felt 1/3 of what they are experiencing at that moment.
---
Color is unique to a human being. Of all the creatures on earth, it is only the human who can distinguish and appreciate color. I'd like to think that colors are coded messages from God. Just like after the Great Flood, when God sent Noah a rainbow. Only the humans in the ark understood what it meant. The animals couldn't care less. But the people equated it with hope. So when someone makes your life colorful, they are, in actuality, making you closer to God.
---
Once again. I am sorry for the incoherent ramblings.
Have a nice day.
posted by Juan Miguel Sevilla at 3:04 AM
3 comments
