| June 16th, 2020

Long, long ago was a boy who lived inside his head,
It was a world of countless tales, a million trinkets, half-sung songs
and a fire of a thousand hued flames to keep the world away
For when he stepped into the world, he missed the warmth and comfort of it
and often fled from the shades of life to its embrace

I wonder if I could say one thing to that lonely child who lived inside his head today,
What lesson could I teach?

The world is what is known, what is unknown, and what is believed

Philosophy is pointless
Many important things have no point

Potential is a thing that is unknown
but is believed
Thus it is the world
until it is known not to be

You think your desert safe
for there is no one else there
but the oasis holds your reflection
and that demon awaits

Those that love you fear for you
and those that fear you
will hate you
even if you fear for them

These are the things that were unknown that I now know or believe

But there is one thing that is true

There is a profound emptiness
in measuring
the length and width
of a beautiful thought

It’s just funny the way life echoes and echoes and echoes… Whim becomes premonition, patterns extend and flow… the tempo separates sorrow from exaltation… breath out worry and breath in joy… and stories swirl around you ready to be plucked from the air.

In The Beginning

| December 5th, 2017

“Who are you?” She asked, finally.
He was a well dressed young man, in red and black. Everything about him was non-distinct, not too tall, not too thin, or fat. Dusky skin, wavy black hair. Only his eyes were remarkable, pale and warm, and yet cold. She knew his face, his eyes so very well. She’d seen them many times
“An interesting question.” He said after a pregnant pause. “I offer you The Truth.”
“About Jesus? What if I’m not Christian?”
The young man cocked his head to the side, a small smirk crept on his face. “Well, perhaps I can offer a different truth.” He effortlessly walked past her and sat on her sofa. “Ever have a dream, that felt real, and yet you knew couldn’t be?”
She sighed. “Are you saying that I’m dreaming?”
“No,” his tone was gentle, but firm. Like a professor teaching a first-year student. Was he really so young? He didn’t seem to be, not anymore
“Don’t you think it’s odd that I’ve found you everywhere you’ve gone? In Paris, or Tokyo, or Athens, or Istanbul? How is it that you’ve lived so many places.”
She thought a moment. The realization was oddly cold.
“I’m dead.”
“Yes,” he took a sip from a glass that hadn’t been there before. “In a sense. You’re no longer subject to The Rules. You’re free.”
“So this is heaven?”
“You could say that,” His smirk turned into a smile. Warm, and cold.
“You can do whatever you wish, fly, be a queen of nations, nothing is denied to you. This is a world of your will. Free will.
“But here is The Truth, in this place, there is only you, and me. And I’m leaving soon.
“You can stay, and do what you wish, make what you will, but know that it is you, and only you here.
“You can return. Be alive. Live by The Rules. Forget. Die.
“Or you could choose oblivion. Some do. Most do not.”
Her eyes were wide for a moment, then she sat next to him.
“So, is there a God?” She asked, innocently.
The man shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”
She looked around. “So, there is no one else. Nothing else. Just me, in my own little bell jar of existence.”
“Yes,” he said, after swallowing another sip.
“How could this be Heaven?”
“I never said it was,” This was the first time he didn’t look her in the eye.
“So, Purgatory?” She sighed. “Or Hell.”
“Not necessarily. It is your will, you decide. Some choose punishment or pain.”
She stood. “Wait, if this is a place of free will, wouldn’t telling me that compromise, that whole concept?”
The man smiled again, bright and full. “Yes, that is a paradox. There are many.”
“No conscious being can exist in a world of absolute logic. Some choices, have been made.”
He took her hand, gently. His touch was warm and somehow cold.
”Understand this. You can ignore me for a while, or banish me for a time, or even choose to forget. But you must know The Truth, and I must tell it to you.”
She took a deep breath, gave him back his hand, and moved to the floor, sitting crosslegged.
“I think I understand. You may leave now.” She bid him, closing her eyes.
The man stood and gave a small nod. “Until next time.” And with that, he left.
She sat. Thinking. Contemplating. Anything was hers, everything. But it was hers alone. She could conjure companions out of the nether, but they’d never be real. She could fool herself for a time, but he would be back to remind her.
Return? No, she couldn’t bring herself to live another life. She had had enough.
Oblivion? It just seemed a waste.
She sat for countless moments, meditating. Then she had a thought. There was only one way to escape.
She felt herself expand, beyond the limits that she knew, beyond that which could be defined.
“Let there be light,” she whispered, one final thought before she ceased to be, and surrendered to Creation.
And he watched as the wheels of creation spun. Faster and faster, as they created the shape of all things. Stars lived and died. Worlds were born and faltered. Empires rose and fell. Artists, Poets, Warriors, Teachers, Philosophers all living, breathing, dying, pondering.
All with notions of the force that created them.
A thousand spirits, perhaps.
Or maybe a dead, but dreaming dragon.
Or a great, and powerful father.
Or a mother.
Yet, he was there through all of it.
The first creation and the last,
The Son.
The Adversary.
The Bringer the of The Truth,
in a sense,
The Bearer of Light.