target season

the restless ones have awoken. they are all savvy people, and they are very courteous, but when it comes to reaching a common denominator of understanding, it is a ruthless and direct process. a singular answer suffices for a multi facet function and that is the only way to go about making sense of things. i call that keeping faith, and riding on it for at least there is progress in everything when understandings are brokered.

when faith isn't enough, and it seldom is enough, you can always sleep and start again. life is a difficult game if you want to look at it from a detached waypoint, and even doing many things may not level you up. progression is all about perpetual learning, and when you stop doing that, it has realised your humanity. everyone has a number, and everyone knows many things, but who will be the next king or queen in a community? i believe that it is target season, for those who survive do so learning about their probable death. for those who get buried, well they learn even more for that's how low their level is. for those who do the shootings, they are in for a treat, but for the eventuality that we realise the humanity of it all: who's hands are clean in a harsh world? it is target season. bang bang.

a few hats

i'm sorry and that's my hat. please don't take it badly for black stripes are my thing and it is obvious you do not share this sense of fashioning. here's a combination for which anything else loses relevance and no amount of focus in any number of words in any book or rhyme will suffice in my selected passion. or at least what my "no's" selected for me.

there is the "trying very hard", then there's the "denial dan" and finally the self realisation that a good idea on paper may never get the recognition it should have. though it was not for a lack of trying, and it was not about patience, or brashness, only that chemistry never happened in a passionate mock tail. denial dan got nothing out of his desperate attempt to create any relevant synergy out of despair. again, it was not a black or white thing, only that the synergies created were of a platonic indifference mutually. p.s. to say the least, i am ashamed that my preferred hat is not that of a sky blue, or a belligerent yellow, for those are so beautiful and wonderful that not liking them should be outlawed. but hearts are strange, and i am made so by mine. luckily, there are so many hats to be worn by those who appreciate the finer things and choosing between just a few hats will do for me. maybe one of black and blue stripes!

D-

i looked on as it possibly drowned in the floods. the tides had come fast and furious, and the torrent was relentless. even so, you would have expected it to have put up a fight against the harsh elements. well, it did, and brave it was, with an effort that belied its slimey small stature. it stood its ground. well it stood on a leaf in face of terrible winds but frogs, as hoppity as it was, also had a limit of what they could endure in a perfect storm. it could learn if it survived, but there would be many inevitable scars in any outcome. in seconds after the rescinding of tides, the waves from the back grew 50 feet above the ground and swallowed poor frog, amongst many things, from the pond it loves so much.

only after hours of churn and spin did the waves relent, easing into a muffle, and in between spat some green thing into the sandy remnants of the cove miles away from a pond elsewhere. there seemed to be no sign of life, and the skies bemoaned the sadness of the loss of many a small thing. then that same sky saw glistening eyes open slowly from that otherwise green limp body. needless to say, the sun, peeking through pillows of grey, rejoiced! blue skies worldwide smiled in casual drizzly tears. in tomorrow's grace, the land of day had thereafter warm lights and bright blues. And of course piercing dark blues of night.

happy enough

in all the delusions and illusions going on inside, reality and fiction seems intertwined. which reality am i awoken to, for one is endless with possibilities, whereas the other is marred in commercialism. all the folks i know, including myself, are entrenched in pop culture and all its cravings, and that is something interesting, until you realise even activism is but an extension of pop culture weaving its way into people's whims. no one ever has a staunch ambition to be someone significant in the narrowest of understandings, nor does anyone know what is the difference between wants and needs. we have all perished in that world lit by pink and yellow and green and blue and red popsicle lights, being manipulated in the slightest of ways perpetually.

i have been made comfortable in a world of zero accountability, and why not indulge in this wondrous thing? we have only what's left of perspective, and if that is gone too, mayhaps it is for the better of everything to be aligned to the world we have built. holding on to things of value, or people, seem so heavy and burdensome, whereas something new is always welcome in this era. we see the flaws we are taught to see, and we ignore everything else to be the rightest of understanding of a thing possible. it is so predictable i am abhorred by my own humanity, and very aware of this structural deficit in the hierachy of which the mind works. it has to be fixed, for if appreciating someone means we only appreciate their perceived goodness, then that is not a concept coherent with humanity. we have to overcome this mentality of hating things we don't understand, because everyone is different, whereas systems remain the same. if we want to make things simple, that is fine, but loving people shouldn't be such a tedious reflex. what the fuck is wrong with this brain that cannot adapt to overcoming it, but only to avoid and abstain from it. shouldn't obstacles be overcomed rather than avoided? perhaps the brain functions fine, but the mind wants to be in an artificial level of which humans cannot comprehend, and that may mean loving everything, for perhaps that is a politically correct ideal, and always overused and watered down, but this should not be the case in blanket. however, i realised that i can only love things once i understand them, rather than hate any of them, so perhaps that is the key. right now, my understanding of people enable me to be happy enough, but how long can that last? i understand them less, and some even negligible. curiosity never made love to a cat, it shall only be so in crazy time. :)