Friday, June 11, 2010
The Chariot (7)
Why does the shadow follow the light? Black sphinx, white sphinx, same difference. Both still ask you the same question with the same answer. Why do horses stay so still, even though they can move at great speeds? Black man, white man, it's all bigotry. No meaning. Meaningless. Same difference. Pitching and yawing, isn't it? X-axis, Y-axis, they're both parts of graphs, aren't they? It's all very much about dualism, huh? Very deep. Move quick, don't miss a beat, quick stop, don't fall. Power under control. Extreme control. Move a toe while keeping the rest of your body still.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The Lovers (6)
And so came the fallen angle, neither obtuse nor acute, but something more. Or was it something less? The fallen angle felt something. Curiosity. Although the angle did not know what it was at first. It wondered about things. Sometimes... At other times, desire. But what for? Strangely enough, it felt a curiosity about desire, and a desire to be curious. Very circular. It wondered once in a while about that too. The angle saw many things, and knew much. But it just kept looking, what for it did not know. Love? Maybe. Trust? Possibly. Lust? Could be. Friendship? Might be. It did not know.
It still does not know. It still searches. It searches inside the hearts of humans, in the shells of snails, in furnaces, in places where you would never expect to see a fallen angle. Meaning, everywhere, 'cause I'd bet you would never expect a fallen angle at all, would you? Maybe one day, it will find what it is looking for. Maybe it won't. Maybe you'll see it searching your life. Maybe. Strange be the ways of angles, more so an angler fish. It's consciousness at high noon, blazing, burning, still searching, and yet ever tender.
Have you experienced it before? This upsurge of life, a desire to know, a rush of exhilaration, a burst of adrenaline. I believe they called it "Love". But what I want to know is who's they?
It still does not know. It still searches. It searches inside the hearts of humans, in the shells of snails, in furnaces, in places where you would never expect to see a fallen angle. Meaning, everywhere, 'cause I'd bet you would never expect a fallen angle at all, would you? Maybe one day, it will find what it is looking for. Maybe it won't. Maybe you'll see it searching your life. Maybe. Strange be the ways of angles, more so an angler fish. It's consciousness at high noon, blazing, burning, still searching, and yet ever tender.
Have you experienced it before? This upsurge of life, a desire to know, a rush of exhilaration, a burst of adrenaline. I believe they called it "Love". But what I want to know is who's they?
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Hierophant (5)
Popular. That's what all those kids out there in secondary school think. Appearances. Fashion. Conformity. Cognitive resonance, not dissonance. Aesop's Fox and the Sour Grapes. Remember? Old story. But one that applies. All of them trying to fit in, with their magazines, boy bands, girl bands and such meaningless things. Ever wondered how it all began, this desire for lesser cognitive dissonance?
No one is ever original nowadays. One person says that he enjoys a song, and the other person will just say that he enjoyed it too, for he does not want to be labeled, "different" or "weirdo". And then, everyone picks it up, just because everyone else enjoys it too. Where has creativity gone? Out to lunch, I hope, for then he may return soon. Yet, you must remember, time is an illusion, lunchtime doubly so. So find your spark of creativity today, and not be like all those mindless zombies out there. Trigger your synapses, engage your senses. No, I'm not saying to try drugs.
Just don't do something because everyone else is also doing it. Play some music that you've always liked but never dared to say so because no one else has ever heard of it. Don't be afraid. Write witty things, draw cool things if you're artsy-fartsy, just not "cool" as defined by fashion nowadays. Never let the masses tell you what's "in" and what's "out", follow your own likes and dislikes. Play Tetris, play Pac-man, have the time of your life with reading, and don't let them call you a "nerd", 'cause that's a derogatory term. Geek is so much nicer. Whistle self-made tunes, and don't let anyone get you down because they find it abnormal. Accept feedback, constructive feedback, but don't ever let someone just go straight to your face and start hating it because it's "out".
Don't stick to old definitions or pronounce words wrongly because everyone pronounces it that way. Or you could be weird and pronounce things your way. Make new borders. Explore your life, see what's missing, get a pet rock, pretend to have sub-personalities for fun, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you hold on to you, yourself, your consciousness, your individuality, what makes you you. I admit, I have been guilty of this before and I'm not saying to hate anything that anyone else likes, I'm saying to have your own taste. This may sound just like an advertisement, but I'm telling you, Reject False Icons.
No one is ever original nowadays. One person says that he enjoys a song, and the other person will just say that he enjoyed it too, for he does not want to be labeled, "different" or "weirdo". And then, everyone picks it up, just because everyone else enjoys it too. Where has creativity gone? Out to lunch, I hope, for then he may return soon. Yet, you must remember, time is an illusion, lunchtime doubly so. So find your spark of creativity today, and not be like all those mindless zombies out there. Trigger your synapses, engage your senses. No, I'm not saying to try drugs.
Just don't do something because everyone else is also doing it. Play some music that you've always liked but never dared to say so because no one else has ever heard of it. Don't be afraid. Write witty things, draw cool things if you're artsy-fartsy, just not "cool" as defined by fashion nowadays. Never let the masses tell you what's "in" and what's "out", follow your own likes and dislikes. Play Tetris, play Pac-man, have the time of your life with reading, and don't let them call you a "nerd", 'cause that's a derogatory term. Geek is so much nicer. Whistle self-made tunes, and don't let anyone get you down because they find it abnormal. Accept feedback, constructive feedback, but don't ever let someone just go straight to your face and start hating it because it's "out".
Don't stick to old definitions or pronounce words wrongly because everyone pronounces it that way. Or you could be weird and pronounce things your way. Make new borders. Explore your life, see what's missing, get a pet rock, pretend to have sub-personalities for fun, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you hold on to you, yourself, your consciousness, your individuality, what makes you you. I admit, I have been guilty of this before and I'm not saying to hate anything that anyone else likes, I'm saying to have your own taste. This may sound just like an advertisement, but I'm telling you, Reject False Icons.
The Emperor (4)
"Move along now, slave! Your flesh is not fit for even the lowliest of hounds to chew!"
The slave was whipped and struggled to redouble its pace. It carried a jug, seemingly heavy and filled to its brim with something. The slave's hands were blistering and were a bright, sore red. The jug must obviously have been extremely hot, and the slave trudged towards a fountain filled not with water, but blazing, boiling blood. As it poured the blood into the fountain, a thing appeared from the fountain. Something horrific. It's features were vaguely amphibian, and was reminiscent of fishes. It's face was pointed, with no nose and its mouth opened to reveal impossibly sharp teeth in its dreadful visage. Its body was hidden under the blood, to the relief of the slave. The slave, recognising it, quickly bowed down and kowtowed to it.
"Begone, vermin." The creature hissed, spitting scalding blood at the slave. The slave hurriedly scuttered away, leaving the creature behind with a stranger whom he had never seen before. The stranger seemed covered in bandages, yet did not seem wholly real.
"See, power is to be taken and not given. If you move along blindly, someone else will lead. If you lead, the rest will blindly follow. Power is what matters here on Arcaz Du, not money, not looks, not anything else."
The stranger kept quiet, content to listen to the creature's ramblings.
The slave was whipped and struggled to redouble its pace. It carried a jug, seemingly heavy and filled to its brim with something. The slave's hands were blistering and were a bright, sore red. The jug must obviously have been extremely hot, and the slave trudged towards a fountain filled not with water, but blazing, boiling blood. As it poured the blood into the fountain, a thing appeared from the fountain. Something horrific. It's features were vaguely amphibian, and was reminiscent of fishes. It's face was pointed, with no nose and its mouth opened to reveal impossibly sharp teeth in its dreadful visage. Its body was hidden under the blood, to the relief of the slave. The slave, recognising it, quickly bowed down and kowtowed to it.
"Begone, vermin." The creature hissed, spitting scalding blood at the slave. The slave hurriedly scuttered away, leaving the creature behind with a stranger whom he had never seen before. The stranger seemed covered in bandages, yet did not seem wholly real.
"See, power is to be taken and not given. If you move along blindly, someone else will lead. If you lead, the rest will blindly follow. Power is what matters here on Arcaz Du, not money, not looks, not anything else."
The stranger kept quiet, content to listen to the creature's ramblings.
Monday, June 7, 2010
The Empress (3)
An intricate chessboard lay on a wooden board, its pieces positioned as though about to play a game. The pieces were carved with exquisite runes and sigils, giving them a mystical feel to them. The pawn held not a sword or any weapon, but rather carried an olive branch in his hand. The rook was literally a bird, just not a rook but rather, a dove. The knights were on horses with riding equipment. None of the pieces carried weapons.
The queen was particularly masterful, and caught peoples' eyes. The queen was pregnant, not bloated and disgusting, but peaceful and gave out an aura of contentment. The queen's hands did not hold their customary sword, but gripped her stomach lightly. The queen was smilling, and seemed to contain within her spring. All who saw it suddenly knew why the old adage was constantly stated, that patience is a virtue.
The king extended a hand towards his wife, lovingly and tenderly. His sword was replaced by a book entitled in small but beautiful words, Friendship. The bishop looked benevolent, and seemed to counsel the pawns on the virtues of peace. All in all, the set removed all war-like aspects of chess and replaced it with contentment, as if the two nations of black pieces and white pieces were close friends.
The queen was particularly masterful, and caught peoples' eyes. The queen was pregnant, not bloated and disgusting, but peaceful and gave out an aura of contentment. The queen's hands did not hold their customary sword, but gripped her stomach lightly. The queen was smilling, and seemed to contain within her spring. All who saw it suddenly knew why the old adage was constantly stated, that patience is a virtue.
The king extended a hand towards his wife, lovingly and tenderly. His sword was replaced by a book entitled in small but beautiful words, Friendship. The bishop looked benevolent, and seemed to counsel the pawns on the virtues of peace. All in all, the set removed all war-like aspects of chess and replaced it with contentment, as if the two nations of black pieces and white pieces were close friends.
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