Hold your fire

Do you remember your childhood fantasies? They would perhaps now seem like pure and untainted dreams, more vivid with light, in a time when the future seemed without limit. Almost like being in love. And you’ve been in love, almost everyone has.
It’s not that I’ve never fallen in.. I’ve felt that hormonal surge, that particular longing, that feeling of comfort with someone else. I’ve felt that many many times and I have memories to prove it. Not flames, mind you; not flames anymore but embers with it’s comforting light.

But to love, to really love.. I don’t really know how that works but I’d imagine that one must let go of everything one knows, of everything one holds dear, one must open ones self up. Love after all, is the grandest emotion of them all. Many layered, varied ingredients give varied levels of the same emotion, Never easy.. I know, but if you want to feel that fire, you have to risk getting burned.

Boomerang

I used to keep my emotions in a wooden box but they kept escaping. So i wrapped my emotions in clingwrap plastic and lead foil but they still managed to find a way out. I locked my emotions in a wooden box in a velvet pouch and i put the pouch inside another wooden box… Didn’t work, never does.

Throw the box in the river, bolt the doors, pull the blinds, cover your head with a blanket… You can try to fool yourself into not feeling anything but what you cast away will surface again, come back sliding under the door, filtering through the blinds, tap you on your shoulder, look you in the eye and flash a big toothy grin.

Some people are like that… The less real the object of their desire, the more real their obsession. But that explains nothing. I have real desires, i have no obsession. I own them, they do not possess me. They are at all times under my control… a controlled loss of control. I cant fight it but I can have it punch me with velvet lined, cotton & bamboo fiber padded boxing gloves.

Blinded Vision

Beauty as it is often said, is in the eye of the beholder. What if the beholder cannot see it? Is it a blessing or a curse? Beauty after all, is rooted in truth and the truth maybe an ugly sight indeed. The truth makes no excuses, allows no compromises, provides no comfort. Perhaps then, we should protect ourselves from the truth…. be blind to it.. if you see what I mean.

Perception is everything, opportunities are all around us, Riches and rewards beyond our wildest dreams. But, we are blind so we cannot see, so they do not exist.  The only reality we can possibly inhabit is the reality we create for ourselves. If we wish to change the world around us, we must change the way we look at it. Take a chance, have blind faith, leap to depths unknown, face an unpredictable future. After all, if you aren’t living on the edge, are you living at all? Or do you just exist?

Lock Stock and 3 Smoking Paragraphs…

                                                   **WARNING: Smoking is injurious to health**

This and an X-ray picture of somebody’s wasted lungs is what you see on every pack of smokes these days. Creating awareness they say. In my mind, clumps of tumors bloomed; soft pink lung tissue took the appearance of charred firewood; grotesque tubers, oozing blood and spore jelly, spread like mushrooms across an unsuspecting lawn; arteries withered like tendrils of parched orchids; clots resembling rotten tomatoes , each clot burning and emitting faint wisps of smoke after combustion.Eugh!!

To non-smokers, it’s an enigma why anyone would smoke, yet the answer seems simple enough when we station ourselves at that profound interface of nature and culture formed when people take something from the natural world and incorporate it into their bodies.

Three of the four elements are shared by all creatures, but fire was a gift to humans alone. Smoking cigarettes is as intimate as we can get to fire without experiencing excruciating pain. Every smoker is an embodiment of Prometheus (He who stole the secrets of fire from the Gods and shared it with mankind and had to face eternal damnation for the same). Smokers probably smoke to capture the power of the sun, to pacify hell, to identify with the primordial spark, to feed on the marrow of the volcano. When they smoke it’s probably not the tobacco they really want, it’s the fire. There was a time when such devotion was as good as worship, the fire dance, a ritual as ancient as lightning. Does that make smokers religious fanatics?? You must admit there is a similarity (or not ). My take on smoking?? I have none….. But the idea of putting the x-ray on a pack of smokes I think is downright RETARDED!!!
A smoker’s lungs can be compared to a virgin sacrificed in godfire.

P.S: This is a re-post of an old blog entry. Too brain dead to come up with anything new

Week-ness

So many choices in life, so many variations for each and every thing. Being a man I find myself attracted not so much to any particular choice but rather think that there is more than one thing to try;  and I want it all. For some men, the thrill of the hunt is both their blessing and their curse, the bane of wives and the boon of escort services, they are simply addicted to variety. We want not this or that, but this and that.. and that one there.. and there, that one looks good, this one tastes good…. The fun just never ends.

Don’t you wish you could have your cake and eat it too? Doesn’t every man secretly wish to have each and every woman in the world pining for  him and yet have a monogamist, loyal, devoted relationship with each and every one of them?  Well, maybe he can.. it may sound unfair or even abusive, but if he can find the right person and if he doesn’t let their feelings get in the way, he can be unfair to his heart’s content