Extinguish

I stub out the cigarette and stare in silence as the embers slowly fade, leaving me in complete darkness. There is no escape from morbid thoughts, and I cannot help but think that this is how it all ends. Someone will watch the light in my eyes fade into nothingness. What once was, will be no more. A lifeless pile of cold flesh and rotting bones crumbling into dust. Someone very dear will ooze moisture from their face and vow to never forget. And one day their memories will turn to stardust, dissolving from their fingers and toes into nothingness.

Stardust is men who fought bravely, women that loved fiercely, children whose laughs echo through the wind. It is broken hearts and slayed limbs, silent melodies and blank pages, colorless dreams and an empty hourglass.

And yet I get this strange feeling that I am but a mere spectator. Yet there remains a tiny, fragmented, futile hope that as stardust, we are immortal.

Breaking patterns

I have a little nightly ritual. I turn off all the lights, put on some Warren Zevon, light a cigarette and walk around in my underwear searching for some inspiration. A pitch dark house fascinates me. It puts my brain on a hyper-imaginative mode, especially after alternate doses of Murakami and high fantasy IF games.

But this night knows it’s going to be a long one. There’s that appalling number 25 looming bright, an impending quarter life crisis, a sudden fear of death, a bucket list getting longer by the minute, some thousand books to read, a hundred things to learn, and the seconds ominously ticking away…

I used to wonder about people who have spent entire lifetimes perfecting the making of a shoe, or a watch, or bread, for crying out loud. Didn’t monotony hit so hard back then, or is it just generations getting more restless? Perhaps those people are the ones who finally understand the deeper meaning of life, not us soul-searching nitwits who will never really be satisfied.

As for me, I know I will always be making and breaking patterns just to create news ones all over again. It’s almost scary that I’m this easily fooled by my own ever changing self.

In the past two weeks, I have developed a new pattern. I wake up at exactly 7:38 am, and it always interrupts an exciting dream. It amused me at first, but now it pisses me off. Perhaps, sleeping at 5 am will break that pattern…

Science? Or a metaphysical reality? 

I think the time has come to decide what to believe. I could believe that there was a purpose for this Universe, and that human race is indeed closer to finding the answers, which are, at the moment, mere theories. Or, I could choose to be stubbornly naive and say that the only things that exist are the things we perceive in this sensory world, believe that we will never find those answers, and thus turn my back on the philosophical questions of existence that have haunted me as well as our entire species, for generations.

After years of research and scientific experiments, are we any closer to knowing if there is any God, or if the Universe had any purpose whatsoever? Do scientists or non-atheists honestly believe that one day either a God or a purpose will suddenly reveal themselves to us, after resolutely ignoring the beseeching cry for answers raised by our species for billion generations?

I don’t think so. Perhaps, all that is going to happen is, The Last Human (so to speak), is gonna end up with an enormous amount of researched, well-written hypothesis. And he’s not gonna know what the fuck to do with it.

The Last Human will then take his last breath, and life will flash before his eyes, not just his own but of the billions of generations gone by, of all the people who gave up their lives in the quest for answers, searching for meaning. Even if there is an afterlife and even if we do learn the answers after death, truth is that no Human will ever have penetrated into this mystery.

Some people say that death is a mere inevitability, and that the spirit lives on, taking another life form. But, remembering one’s past life has always been beyond the ability of a mere mortal. If we are to start each new life as a blank slate, without a memory of the soul’s prior existence, what purpose is there to believe that death is only for the bodily realm? It seems like a mere consolation for those fearing death, the thought that we don’t really die and that the soul lives on.

So, I choose to be stubbornly naive. I think we only get one life, and if we don’t live it to the fullest, that’s it, we’re dead. I cannot say I can ever turn my back on the philosophical questions, I but right now, I choose to believe that the answers are not gonna appear miraculously; rather, there’s a possibility they will never be known, and we will be left shooting in the dark.

Evolution: Infinite or revolutionary?

We study the miracle of evolution from a single cell in which someone breathed life, to more and more complex organisms with powers so advantageous it would almost seem magical if you saw it happening. Once you get past those questions of ‘Who is our Creator’ or ‘Did we ourselves create this world from nothing’?, then you become brave enough to look to the future and wonder if we are still evolving or are we the last on the chain, the most advanced species there can ever be.

And the answer is disappointing if we consider ourselves to be the most evolved. True, they say that the next evolution is revolution in technology. But I feel that’s just evolution of mankind, not man himself. Technology is improving by massive strides, but at the end of the day, man is developing further on something that was man made in the first place.

Wouldn’t it be true evolution, if a couple hundred years later, man begins to evolve through his own spirit and inner sanctity? Imagine the man of the future, answering questions of existence with certainty; answering questions on the history of evolution, the Big Bang and the Universe itself, by diving deep into the memories of this infinite universe that gave us life – this colossal database as yet unexplored. Imagine man to be so powerful as to bend the 5 elements of the earth with his bare hands. Imagine man to be able to communicate without speaking; a language of this universe, spoken and understood by not only all species on this earth, but even those existing beyond the boundaries of our current knowledge.

I am wholly supportive of a technological revolution; after all it only goes to prove man’s power of intellect. But I refuse to accept that this is the only evolution there will ever be.

Demons

Your past is carefully locked up, demons and all. It makes you feel stronger in the now, knowing there’s an iron door between your two worlds. You have never once opened that door, though the demons are rearing to have a go. You could never face them yourself, because you were never strong enough for that kind of thing.

Such doors are never meant to be opened alone. That world comes into discourse only when you can rely on the strength of someone else, the one who coaxes you to face your demons.

I open that door

I see it; I see those red eyes now

Staring intently, sensing my fear

I tremble on the doorstep

You give me a slight push

And I cross the threshold

 

They don’t attack all at once

(Yes, ‘they’ are more than one)

They wait for me to choose my opponent

I start with the oldest, the weakest

And as my triumph slays fear,

You look jubilant, from the corner…

 

I move on to the others

The ghosts & the vicious ones

I raise my sword and shield,

But it is stronger, it hits back

I look to you for help

And see you cowering, terrified

 

I stare in shock then comprehend,

My demons scare you more!

They have unified, ready to pounce

I realize I am alone in this fight

A moment of panic, a scream

I need to get out, “get out now!”

 

But you have still not moved

As the monsters strike, I flee;

My fingers slam the door shut

Divided again, my two worlds

But now you’re in there, locked in that room

Locked within my past

Time

 

Time is what we need

If it never slipped from our fingers

Wouldn’t it be man’s greatest inventions

If he could only hold time?

“You earn, you travel,

You read and even love;

You sing and dance,

You laugh and eat merry;

Why are you discontent still?

What would you rather be doing?”

 

“Something worthwhile

Something, worthy of time”

 

Wishing Well

Saw a wishing well
And threw in a dime,
Said let’s take a walk
Let’s go back in time

So we turn back the years,
Beyond reaches of pain
To happy days as kids
Dancing in the rain

There’s me splashing puddles
And Curly’s scraped his knees
What an age to just have fun
What joy to be so carefree

Why go back, let’s stay right here
Let’s hide inside this borrowed time
Where love, like us, is innocent
And lovers don’t need to rhyme