Driven by no raging, fireborn stallions 'cross the barren heath
Vaunted chariots mire beneath the death throes of the moon.
Beleaguered figures strain against the ponderous fog,
Forgotten wings strapped tight with vengeful chains,
Tempered strength betrayed by mental bondage,
Depraved devotion to righteous, selfless evil.
Welded to baseness by desperate fear,
Ravaged shadows scour the gelid soil
Pursued by relentless ghosts,
Tattered remains of dignity.
Condemned travesties
Surrendered souls
Fallen angels
Broken men.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
High above the mucky-muck, castle made of clouds,
There sits Wonderboy, sitting oh so proudly.
Not much to say, when you're high above the mucky muck.
Wonderboy, what is the secret of your power?
Wonderboy, won't you take me far away from the mucky-muck?
-- Tenacious D, "Wonderboy"
I can't explain it, but I am so incredibly happy right now. I completely dominated my calculus test today, finishing in half the time. Then I remembered that I had to walk home today, because my dad is out of town. I walked out of the doors of the RVC building, and the wind hit me square in the face. And then I laughed. I started laughing almost hysterically, uncontrollably, as I walked, or rather flew across the campus. It took nearly 40 minutes for me to walk home, but I enjoyed every second of it.
While I was cruising through the wide open spaces on the outside of the RVC campus, the wind was my traveling companion, shaping my hair into crazy contortions and washing over my face. At that moment, I felt that the wind was love.
Every step of mine had an extra bounce, every stride a bar of music. I could hear beauty in the silence, save for the caressing roar of the wind. I rejoiced in the incredible exquisiteness and synergy of the sun, the trees, the road, my feet, the wind...
I cannot remember the last time I laughed for the pure joy of life. I meet with much difficulty in trying to describe exactly how I felt. I was there. I existed. The world existed. And then it wasn't quite me any more. I felt simultaneously empty and filled, about to burst. When I laughed, sunlight came out. I was merely an empty doorway between the world and itself, a temporary container.
As I reached my neighborhood, my steps had almost started to turn into skips and jumps, but as soon as my feet touched the off-white sidewalk, I slowed down. And I began to whistle. I hit every high note in every song that I could never do before, and I never stopped whistling until I got home. I whistled several songs I knew and even a few that never existed before I brought them into being. Can there be a greater sense of thrill than at the moment of creation? I didn't just hear the music, I felt it. Even more: I was the music, and my body was an instrument, the most perfect musical instrument in the universe, and the trees stopped swaying to listen. The music arced above and around the houses, twirled around the mailboxes, and planted itself in the lawns.
When I got back to my house, I suddenly realized I had forgotten my key, which would have put me in a rather sticky situation. But, as if to prove to me that today is a perfect day, the patio door was open when it should not have been. I entered, and I shouted the language of delight to the ghosts of all the footsteps, tears, laughs, and stories my house holds. I walked up to the computer, and pumped up the volume on the sweet set of speakers my brother left behind for us as a gift. I put on "What's My Age Again?" and I danced. I jumped. I twirled. I pumped my fist. I felt fluid, unfettered, buoyant. And then I sat down and started writing.
There sits Wonderboy, sitting oh so proudly.
Not much to say, when you're high above the mucky muck.
Wonderboy, what is the secret of your power?
Wonderboy, won't you take me far away from the mucky-muck?
-- Tenacious D, "Wonderboy"
I can't explain it, but I am so incredibly happy right now. I completely dominated my calculus test today, finishing in half the time. Then I remembered that I had to walk home today, because my dad is out of town. I walked out of the doors of the RVC building, and the wind hit me square in the face. And then I laughed. I started laughing almost hysterically, uncontrollably, as I walked, or rather flew across the campus. It took nearly 40 minutes for me to walk home, but I enjoyed every second of it.
While I was cruising through the wide open spaces on the outside of the RVC campus, the wind was my traveling companion, shaping my hair into crazy contortions and washing over my face. At that moment, I felt that the wind was love.
Every step of mine had an extra bounce, every stride a bar of music. I could hear beauty in the silence, save for the caressing roar of the wind. I rejoiced in the incredible exquisiteness and synergy of the sun, the trees, the road, my feet, the wind...
I cannot remember the last time I laughed for the pure joy of life. I meet with much difficulty in trying to describe exactly how I felt. I was there. I existed. The world existed. And then it wasn't quite me any more. I felt simultaneously empty and filled, about to burst. When I laughed, sunlight came out. I was merely an empty doorway between the world and itself, a temporary container.
As I reached my neighborhood, my steps had almost started to turn into skips and jumps, but as soon as my feet touched the off-white sidewalk, I slowed down. And I began to whistle. I hit every high note in every song that I could never do before, and I never stopped whistling until I got home. I whistled several songs I knew and even a few that never existed before I brought them into being. Can there be a greater sense of thrill than at the moment of creation? I didn't just hear the music, I felt it. Even more: I was the music, and my body was an instrument, the most perfect musical instrument in the universe, and the trees stopped swaying to listen. The music arced above and around the houses, twirled around the mailboxes, and planted itself in the lawns.
When I got back to my house, I suddenly realized I had forgotten my key, which would have put me in a rather sticky situation. But, as if to prove to me that today is a perfect day, the patio door was open when it should not have been. I entered, and I shouted the language of delight to the ghosts of all the footsteps, tears, laughs, and stories my house holds. I walked up to the computer, and pumped up the volume on the sweet set of speakers my brother left behind for us as a gift. I put on "What's My Age Again?" and I danced. I jumped. I twirled. I pumped my fist. I felt fluid, unfettered, buoyant. And then I sat down and started writing.
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