Poem – Bored

I’m bored of the same grey skies
The four walls I’m trapped inside
I’m bored of the same old bullshit I do during the longest hours of my day
It’ll be the same anywhere I go, this is not for me
I’m bored of capitalism, how we need to toil away to make a living, no, to survive
I’m bored of feeling tired, exhausted and spent
Bored of feeling grateful and guilty for the little success that I have
I worked hard and now I want to rest
I’m bored of having to lie about what my goals are
I’m bored of the world killing itself, of permanent injustice
I’m bored of feeling this constant anger that makes my skin crawl
I’m bored of food tasting the same, of bad wine, of costs rising, of global hunger and poverty rising like plague
I’m bored of apathy and scared that I’m getting it too

Resolution

A new year, a new blog entry, although I haven’t added anything to it in a long time I feel like writing now, probably because I once again lack the inspiration to add anything to my writing projects, and I need to write. Maybe I should be less hard on myself because over the last month I’ve made some progress in my writing and did what makes me happy, it’s okay if I haven’t spent the last few days working on something I enjoy doing, yes it’s alright.

During this time of the year the talk is rife with resolutions, I never previously made any that I can think of but this year I decided to make one. To hide a little bit of myself when I meet new people, too many times has my sense of humour or unwillingness to play games was misunderstood. I am firm believer in being myself in all situations or at least I was, when you meet new people and you are yourself with them at all times and they come to care for you, that care should be genuine. But what if a part of your personality pushes someone away or frightens them too soon, before they really know you? Or gets you in trouble? Are you then being false with some people or is natural not to reveal too much too quickly, rein a part of yourself in?

I’m genuinely stumped, I realise how revealing too much too quickly can lose the aspect of mystery, but starting to care for someone while they’re behaving under false pretences can be painful, when you know someone and hidden aspects of their personality come out to make you realise just how little you know about the person. It’s probably impossible to know the answers to all of those questions when meeting new people because everyone is different but what is the best formula? To proceed with caution or throw yourself deep straight away?

Ending suddenly

I see you running towards the future
Hurling through space, delirious with age
But I not knowing my way
Took careful steps to blindly lose myself in emptiness
Without a way to return to yesterday I kept on missing out

I see you running, yet you’re flailing
As your wings are failing
So find a way to take me away from all of the mundane
Taking a breath after breath of this stale air
And waking from star filled dreams
Isn’t the way to be
Life should be free

Live another day, cry another minute
It’s all okay, it’s all forgotten
Now who’s to say what we did was wrong?
We simply never synced but only clicked
We gave our lives, the only thing we had to give
For imperfect harmony
Our love ending suddenly

Ghosts

In the world where ghosts are everywhere
I still don’t care
They’re like pollen everywhere
I keep ignoring, I don’t care
They wail and scream
Hear their plight
That’s nothing but delight!
Hear that? Where there is no silence but demise
It drives right through me, arousing my suspicions, awakening my senses
Their panicked plight strokes me inside and I gulp it down like a tiny pup
So you don’t care?
Pretend to be all that you must, but they aren’t supposed to dally here
Up to heavens or down to hell is where they all must go
And what of us? Shall we disperse and go to where we came from once, the place beyond all hell?
Hush demon, that was no home of mine
They never tire only whine in pain, leading to my despair, look at their tears flowing
So lithe and draining
No home of yours? You’re worse than me, pretending to be moved by their suffering, at least I’m honest
I don’t care
You lie, I care it’s true
What’s keeping them, who is torturing them?
How can I snap the chains bounding them?
Oh ghoul relax
Their tiny hands convulsing, their wrath unspeakable
In the world where ghosts are everywhere, undetectable in plain sight
No ascent is possible
Descent improbable

Prometheus has landed

I’ve thought of many ways to start of this opinion of mine but couldn’t think of a sufficient way to do it so…(there are spoilers below).

Prometheus has landed, and like many many people I couldn’t wait to see this film, then came what I have been dreaded – disgruntled viewers. I tried my best to keep what everyone was saying as far away from my ears as possible but it was hard to do, the general view was that of disappointment, and so with my expectations lowered I went to see Prometheus on Monday night.

The biggest problem this film had was the hype or maybe how impossible it was not to hype this film, this prequel to Alien, Ridley Scott’s return to sci-fi genre after a long time. But thankfully I didn’t find it extremely disappointing, it was far too good to be disliked but I’m not obsessed with Alien so perhaps it was far more difficult to disappoint me than your normal Alien fanatic. The film was enjoyable, it didn’t blow my mind like I expected it would after watching the very first trailer, but I appreciated what I was seeing. It dared to ask many important questions like “Why are we here?” it attempted to answer them without giving much away too; this for me was where the disgruntlement came from. It left me wanting to find out more which could have been the whole point of the film, it’s about two films away from Alien itself so the possibility of sequels is very much alive, would that be a good idea is a separate question. In its opening weekend it made $51,050,101, total life time grossing has been counted as $148,991,714        so far, based on how well it is doing in the box office the succession of the film wouldn’t be a mad idea, but will it be worth it?

In Ridley Scott’s universe we were given life by the Engineers, who later sought to destroy us with weapons of mass destruction and insemination of black goo. What did you we do to deserve such a painful end? Or was the question of not doing anything at all, were we simply created to carry out a task and with that task fulfilled we were no longer needed? Did our progress and destructive natures disappoint our parents to such an extent that to wipe us out was a better option than bear the burden of disappointment, there is another theory floating around. 2000 thousand years ago Christ was born and we on the whole stopped worshipping them and moved onto a different theory of a beginning all together; this was about the time the Engineers began to die prior to their dark and horrible mission. Were they hurt by our change of religion or did they foresee the scope of darkness coming from belief in a single fictional entity? Can’t blame them if it was either of those really, you create species and then they decide to believe in the Easter Bunny instead, I’d be pissed off too. Or did they simply create us because they could and seek to destroy us because of that too? On a whim.

There were plot holes, many of them. A trillion dollar mission, the people who were involved in it appeared not to have been briefed before waking up on Prometheus, how can you then tell if they are suitable if they don’t know what they’ll be up against? Such an expedition would have been surrounded by media frenzy; all of them would have known what they were signing up for. The guy responsible for safety of the crew so easily gives up his weapons; this isn’t much when compared to no one being bothered by going out into an unexplored, probably very dangerous planet without any weapons at all! Because it’s going to be filled with lush pretty soft pillows that won’t hurt anyone, so why carry weapons? Oh yeah, the biologist also tried to pet an alien snake looking creature, would have he attempted to pet a shark too, because it looked oh so darn cute despite the sharp visible toothies?

Character development was something pretty much missing entirely from the plot, it felt like Charlie Holloway was only there to get infected and then to spill his contaminated seed into Elizabeth Shaw, who I by the way found very annoying. Not that sure why Meredith Vickers was there either, unless the whole point of her presence was to get squashed by a giant ship when the impending state of squishiness could have been avoided by her moving a little to the right or the left, it couldn’t have been that difficult Shaw did it. And what was the point in Peter Weyland infecting Holloway? Unless as it was suggested to me that Weyland wanted to see what the black goo did, he through David tried to infect Vickers, no wonder she had daddy issues, and then Holloway who would have given anything to get the answers, so he gave his life to find out what the creators were transporting. The thing that probably bothers me the most is why a man in his 90s was played by Guy Pearce, why were the prosthetics so bad? Was it so difficult to get an elderly man to play Weyland without making him look ridicules?

Timings bothered me too, what were the chances of two scientists, whatever their titles were, finding the path to the Engineers before Weyland died, he was a very old guy but yet clung to life just in time to get a chance at eternal life? Everything just fell into place, the mission was organised in no time as well, in about two years from making the discovery Shaw and Holloway were already there. Doesn’t it take ages to publish a paper, and then have your fellow peers agree or disagree with it? Simple logistics don’t add up. The whole mission was organised because some old rich dude didn’t want to die, I guess wars have been started for sillier things so fine.

One thing about the film surpassed everything else; the best thing about the film was David and Michael Fassbender. Humans were now playing at being Gods, creating life because they could; David was the closest thing Weyland would ever have to a son, just without a soul, which was yet another dig at Vickers. David is so detailed, so very human; he is the only one who has been gifted with character development. He is pained by not being human, by constantly being reminded that he was not human but yet proud of being capable of so much more than a human could ever be. But of course this simply might have been a part of his programming. He looks, acts, even puts on a helmet so the humans or as he calls them “you people” would be comfortable in his presence. There were so many times when I wasn’t sure if he did and said all of those things Weyland programmed him to do and say or if his own personality was developing, if he had his own motivations building, one of those moments was when he said “don’t all children really want their parents dead?”. Was he picking up this behaviour from Vickers or did he want to be free of Weyland. What did he say to the Engineer before getting his head torn off his body? Did he ask what Weyland was telling him to ask or did he think of his own question? So many questions, there is one thing that needs to question mark which is Michael Fassbender’s acting, this was simply superb.

Is it possible that another titan would be soon rising?

Beauty of Decisions

The story you are about to read was heavily inspired by The Tree of Life soundtrack, it is also a redraft of the orginal.

Once upon a time a woman sat in a waterfall, naked and weeping. The tears streamed down her cold face and formed troubled rivers. She cried not because of a broken heart but because her life was forfeited to spare the lives of others. She has done so out of her own free will and because those lives were her own responsibility. She acted foolishly yet bravely, putting others as well as herself in danger.
Decisions had to be paid for, often with blood, yet without them no being was ever alive, it was like taking a breath, gulping it down until you thirsted for more, yet it is only a benefit the free can enjoy. When she was led away to her place of death, in a dress spun of moonlight, she felt like a criminal. It was nothing anyone else did to make her feel ashamed or scorned; her own desire to continue with her life was taking seed, she wanted to continue breathing, in that moment the air smelled so fresh. The tears began then, only on the inside and invisible to the world.
Once a life is bound to another they shine together and then go out together, there could be no change of heart no I love you not anymore. The bond lasts more than a life time, in new lives yet to come the paths will cross and twine together, leading the mind to wonder about the past it didn’t behold. Her bond was not a lover’s one, she swore to protect, like many others, and doomed those she swore to shadow and watch. As her punishment she supported a mountain and replenished the rivers with her tears. The pebbles around her whispered “No crime however accidental should be left unpunished when committed by one who knew better.” She never fought against the painful expression of justice nor railed against her bounds, her death had a place in the world, it didn’t take away it gave. She saw this when the light blinded her outer eyes and her heart stopped beating, she saw it as a moment of beauty, she lost her mortality but gained clarity, and the air, ah the air tasted so much sweeter after she breathed no more. Now whenever she closed her eyes she floated away, the stars welcoming her into a place which felt more comforting than home.

There is a way

Before Christmas I went to Venice, a magical place.

When your mood is full of blah

Today is a beautiful day, so was yesterday, and I well, feel so uninspired. The little writing I’ve done lately has to do with working on a draft of a book-type-thing-project that has been alive for too many years without getting any closer to completion. Because I haven’t been able to come up with any new short stories for around a year I’m going to be editing the old ones, some of them do need to be edited.

I’ve been waiting for this weather for so long now, I can’t survive without sunshine but it appears not to have a positive effect on me after all.

Dust

The heat was not yet unbearable but it was keeping sleep at bay, ahead lay one restless night, if not dreamless then it was going to be filled with haunting dreams, where something always lurked outside of vision. A couple lay under a thin blanket surrounded by the thick warmth of the day; the light in the room was coming from a single dimmed lamp, not harsh enough to sting their eyes. Somewhat fresh, slightly cool air was coming through the open window; it escaped out if the open patio door, into the street outside, and back into their window, an unending circle. It was a circulation of life, if this loop was to stop then so would all life.

Joanie readjusted her pillow, no longer attempting to get more comfortable, her hay coloured curls were sweaty, and she pushed them away from her eyes, although there was nothing she really needed to see. Paul, with his wrist under his head, his pillow long ago discarded was participating in a starring contest with the ceiling, with no clear victor in sight he sighed.

“Why does it even matter anyway, in the end all that is left is dust.” Joanie rubbed her forehead, she couldn’t make herself have another cold shower, it would only be help for five minutes and in the process she was going to waste too much water.

“If that’s true, then nothing we do or anything that has ever been done matters. Then nothing matters.” He prolonged the sound of nothing, echoing the ‘o’ as if it went back through the ages.

“Perhaps nothing does matter, most of all we don’t matter. We end up being nothing after all, food for the warms or even worse dust. The only difference is how we become dust.” Joanie drew up the blanket closer to her head, covering her neck. “The paths are different but the result is the same.”

Paul felt Joanie’s discomfort, her words escaped her mouth too fast, her mind was working too fast to produce all of those thoughts, he knew that she hasn’t shared all of them with him, and probably hasn’t remembered all of them. Heat was getting to her, or what he hoped was heat.

“How are the paths different?” Paul turned to his side, facing Joanie, this way he was able to observe her better, see how her face changed when she spoke.

“The difference is in time, how long it takes to become nothing but dust.” She winced. “It’s so much more though. If nothing but dust is left have we ever existed?” Joanie shuddered, a motion that had nothing to do with the weather. “That’s why the thought of cremation has always made me so uncomfortable.”

“If nothing is left of a person it doesn’t mean that they never existed. The memories and possessions remain. Pictures, videos, whatever that person has made or shaped remains.”

Joanie finally looked at Paul, her eyes big and ever slightly misty. “But the human mind can easily be tricked, true memories forgotten, false ones made up instead. It can’t be trusted all of the time to keep a memory alive.” She smiled the saddest smile Paul has ever seen. “And what about those people who have no one? Have they existed if no one is keeping their memories alive? Pictures get lost, files corrupted, possessions and creations lost. But for a long time the body remains, there is proof that the person walked on earth, there in those bones.”

Paul drew up his knees towards his chest; with every word he became more sullen. So many people faded from memory even before they died, if a person hasn’t achieved an unfeasible greatness or left behind great works of art or inventions, did they even matter? Yes, too many people died alone as well, maybe their genius was never discovered, they might have been the last to die out of their close circle or because they were never fortunate enough to have met someone they could share their lives with. After most people have gone, almost nothing of them was left, apart from their bones and rotting bodies, if that was left at all.

They continued lying there side by side; Paul was on his back now, his head at the same level as Joanie’s shoulder, two lovers so close to each other but not touching. Not even thinking about touching. The heat has taken so much out of them, and now their conversation left Paul feeling more tired, wasted. Maybe life didn’t matter, Paul thought, maybe he had no big effect on the bigger world, and a few years after his death, no one would think about him much or there would be no one left to remember him. But this he decided firmly shouldn’t stop him from enjoying life and trying to live.

“Do you want some cereal?” Paul grinned at Joanie, getting a blank stare back from her.

“No, but that left over pizza would be great.” Joanie laughed, and her laughter cleared away all of Paul’s depressive thoughts.

Lost in thought