Few people realize that man has already attained immortality; it's merely been abused, forgotten, and renamed Writing. -Brian Egan

Thursday, August 31, 2006

The Battle for Eternity

It took me years to reach this far, and I wouldn't even be here if I hadn't forgotten who I was and rushed through a host of the enemy. I can't even write this now with the knowledge of whether or not I did the right thing. I don't know if I was running away... or running to the end, either way, I am alone here. My pack is light, my weapons small, my skill undeniable and yet I am ailed by a mysterious sickness. I fight to the extent of my efficiency, and I am eaten by failure. I block the blows of my enemies, but I am still cut deeply. I am not confident of what action to take in my situation... do I wait for help to come to me or do I go back myself? The latter is easily the most logical, but my pride will not loose me from it's strong hold. There are others in my view--I can converse with them and they with me, but the sickness throbs onward. Bit by bit it ebbs away at my conscience, the one battle I fear most to lose, and the one battle which I can not afford to do so. Even as the evil falls to my deadly strokes around me, the poison saps at my mind, like a living host, and the more I think upon it the faster it consumes my very existence. I know now that it feeds off of my strengths, but recedes at my weaknesses. But if I run to my weaknesses, I will surely fall victim to the host of evil around me. Unless there are strengths hidden even from my all-seeing eyes, in which case it would be worth the brief exposure to this death. My cure though, must be willing to help as well, and it is so far away. The path will lead me more out-of-the-way that I dare to go, but for this I must remain strong. IF I concieve to make such a move, I must be certain of the results lest my spirit becomes impaled by the black wind of Satan, yes... I must be patient. Until then I must fight on, fight for the others as nobody fights for me, for when I reach my salvation, the journey will not be at an end. Until that time, I will have no more to say on the matter.

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I have reached the door, but it is closed before me. I have decided to make the leap, but it has only led me here, to failure. The door is shut, and I am not welcomed in. The cure is inside, but I cannot reach it even to tell if it would help... as I fight off the enemy I become weak. Do I stay and hope that the door will open, or do I run towards another haven? The answers are unclear to me, even as I write what I know to be truth. Truth can be so fleeting at times, so hidden. I can only defend myself here for a small amount of time--after that I will be forced with a decision. It is one I am not anxious to make.

Commentary

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Break the Pattern

What happens when you start to break the pattern? Why, it get's indignant and starts to break you. You see, it has us in a bind. The pattern doesn't think, the pattern doesn't know. It's too large. It can't contain itself. And it's out of control. But we are the "privileged ones." The ones who can find comfort in succumbing to the pattern. A "once in a lifetime offer." Well the pattern can go to hell. You're all so afraid of it. It's got you in it's words and it's threats. Well, it doesn't have me. And it doesn't have my crew. And we're gonna take a blowtorch to the damned machine. Impossible? Why? Because that's what it told you? Well it lied. Outside of the pattern there is darkness, there is night, but there is not weakness. There is self-sufficiency. And that breeds confidence, worthiness, value, and honor. And all it took was Vivacity and Audacity. But the gears are grinding, and they're pulling us back in. So in that void we wield the flame and cut the steel until the cage holds no more. And then you're free, the voice of the voiceless shouting it's eternal song, vindicated from it's villainy and brought into indemnity's resurrection.

You're welcome.

Fight for the Night

What do you see, when you look into the night sky? What do you feel in that vast emptiness? Man has looked, and he has seen nothing. But you have looked for yourself, and in that nothing you've discovered. But the power is not in the discovery. It's in the choice. Man told you what was there, but you did not believe. You did not believe because you did not trust any one's eyes but your own. They told you that there was evil in the darkness. They told you to be afraid. But God does not create evil, and the fear which he inspires is not of the type which they claim is present here. And so you're drawn to this portrait of the night, inexorably so, adamant in your exploration of the unknown. But this world was not made for you -- this land of mystery is not your playground. We gave it up, you know. All those years ago. It was once ours to guard, to watch, but in our neglect it fell to creatures of shadow. Demons, spirits, agents of the darkness. So we did what any responsible doctor would do to an ailing limb. We amputated the night, and sealed it away from this world. What you see now is what that world could be, should it be taken back, but it would take a force far greater than you will ever know to liberate the night. Luckily for us, there is another way.

Commentary

Wednesday, August 2, 2006

Number Games

Yeah, it's amateur... but it gets the message across.

I'm never more than two to you, but I have won one to whom I am one. However there are always those who try to take that one from me and bump me down to number three, and damn the fool who tries to win at every turn, that one is mine, you're number nine, so carefully around me now so I won't have to show you how I deal with those who take my place and hide a mask behind their face. I wear mine proud, I wear it loud, and since I'm always one away don't take my one, I'm here to stay.

Commentary