Via Vision

Thoughts flow like a river and here is the place in which the river becomes a waterfall.

Thursday, December 30, 2004

New Day

With blue skies painted with white clouds above me, I turn to the left and gaze at the green leaves pulling away from the trees in the wind. The air is soft, clean and refreshing with the water gushing through the narrow and rocky stream. Dead leaves sail down the stream avoiding the many leaves that are wrecked along the rocks and fallen tree branches. Sunlight shines on the water trickling off the stream creating fairy dust and, healing the herbs growing from the rich soil of the forest. Ruffling leaves in the wind are the forest’s orchestra and are the soothing rhythm in which my troubles are taken away. Bright yellow and purple flower accented with white spots bloomed brightly as they peek out to look at the sun. Vivid green frogs jumping from rock to rock and then diving into the cool stream water is the parade of the early morn. With my back laid on the turgid dark green grass and hand behind my head, I begin to soak up the early morning sun to prepare myself for the chores of the day.

One Hundred Thousand

One hundred thousand people died from the impact of a Tsunami, yet I feel nothing. News rushed across cyberspace informing the world of the disaster and it’s just read as statistics. I feel disconnected from the reality to the point that isn’t real anymore but just another story.

One hundred thousands bodies scattered on the ground or trapped in rubble is supposed to mean something, but no real meaning can be squeezed from this incident. Three thousand people died and it brought about two wars that killed almost as much as this Tsunami disaster or more. Is this a sign of a much greater war to come?

One hundred thousand brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers are dead and yet from a distance the pain of the family disappears with emotionless reports. The stench of death in the air runs rampant and yet I cannot smell it.

One hundred thousand dead humans mean nothing when the hurt is discarded in words printed on a webpage. Disasters like these become nothing but another story and another death. Death has finally become the norm in society we call the living.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Blank for a Reason

Thoughts without focus swim around in my head.

The frustration of progress or lack there of is blurring my vision.

Time is always on my mind.

Escape for freedom the forbidden pleasure I desire.

When would this agony come to and end?

When would I be able to see beyond the days and into the years?

Uselessness is overbearing

And the monotony is stifling the existence I once treasure.

Happiness is like a long lost love

And emptiness is the friend that fills the void.

Death surrounds me and as the end draws nearer.

But I want to see my accomplishments before the end comes.

Even though there is happiness in the distance,

The fog of recent days veils my future.

What is going to happen if I run free?

Enslaved by the determination for the easy way out is crippling me.

A brilliant mind without focus confuses the thoughts of things which once had a purpose.
Blank and filled with indifference my eyes close for another day.

Unexpected Link

I don’t know why I care but I just do.

I long to be near and with you.

You are able to fill a void that only a few others have filled.

Why is it you?

Why do I care so much about you, when I hardly know you?

It’s easier for me to hate you, but it’s not within my capacity.

Can you punch me in my face and free me from this spell that links my soul to you?

There is reason that I care

But I have hidden it for such a long time that I don’t know what it is.

Let us just be friends

But try not to hurt me for you have a link to my soul.

I don’t how you got it

Or why you got

But you have a direct link to my soul.

Bond by a link that I cannot sever or reason out,

I am left at your mercy.

Even though I feel safe with you holding this link,

I am a bit uneasy if it breaks pre-maturely.

So until the reason for this link is solidified,

Try not to take advantage of me.

For this link is entirely within your control.

Frail Heart

Falling in love is something that I cannot control. The person afflicted with this emotion cannot distinguish infatuation and genuine love. A passion and a need to be around a person aura, eats away my soul. My thoughts cannot be contained within the script of a page, nor can I freely express it these days. Suppressed feelings are the norm of this life or is it the norm for the person afraid of hurt? Isolation seems to be the only remedy at times, for I am unable to hurt others and there are no expectations. Low self-esteem is what I diagnose or could it be depression? With so many choices and avenues, my feelings can be leaky, seeping into the feeling of frustration, confusion or regret. There is almost no way of sifting or distilling the emotion when mixed, but hoping that one dies.

My emotions are distorted. I cannot tell what I am or not feeling. Leaky emotions would always lead to this confusion, but one would eventually die making the mix more distinguishable. What should I feel or allow myself to feel? What is the feeling I longed to feel? Frozen love is meant to be broken and the heat from the broken love would melt away the pain as it flows throw my eyes. I am too scared to feel. To scared of my frozen love breaking. My vessels to my heart are linked to this love and mind is one with this love. If it were broken, my soul would dissolve into the nothingness of the world. With the power of my mind, my love is buried deep within my analysis of logical preservation to avoid mental and emotional death.

I am there

Why be smart when it cannot be used?

Why think beyond the spectrum to make others confused?

The thoughts that once made me whole,

Is now devouring me like mold.

Little by little I try to regain my soul

But my mind continually loses control.

Time is always staring me in my face,

Knowing that I have misused it from place to place.

No control of my future to come,

I look back at my past that I had made glum.

Nothing in the past and nothing in the future,

It is time to change my self-destructive nature.

Even though I am aware,

I am scared of the things I should not fear.

One step after and another

I neared closer and to closer to my life long future.

With my eyes close and my head straight

I would not fall to the distraction bait.

Nearer and nearer I encroached on my new life

For the time meaningful spent, would bring me light.

My eyes squint and my hands quiver

For I reach the life I have always desire.

Destin to Die

We look at animals fight and laugh, not at the fight but the silliness that caused the fight. Yet we are unable to see the absurdity of wars that brings death to the next generation. How can we call ourselves civilized when we purposely destroy one another? Idealist am I? No! Seeing things for what they are is my gift to this world that I love. Push away the biases and see things for what they are. The foolish mind always bends according to the fallacy of illogical pressures such as color of skin and ethnicity. When would the time come when the men of this earth would move away from their barbaric nature and become more civilized than the animals we laugh at when humping their mate? We are a defective race that is desperate need of help. Pride has blinded us to the point of madness, so we no longer see our actions for what they are. Is this the reason why religion materialized in this world?

The same religion that promises hope and love, in addition to divine intervention, has brought about just as many deaths as the wars between nations. Reflect on the actions of man within our short existence and you will see that we are self destructive and insane beings. The core of the all this internal corruption within our society is the lack of perception and understanding of self-preservation. Individualism is the destroyer of every community of intelligent living beings. The more individualize we become the more selfish the community. Individualization is equivalent to the cells of the body attempting to work on its own, not realizing that in the process it would not only die but would cause the body to die. It is time for us to use the essence and the core rule of life, which is to live for others and not for ourselves. But in a world where we are taught to think only of ourselves, such a task would be near impossible. The human mind is defective and would always fall to warped interpretation of self-preservation.

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Loser's Dream

So much time is spent daydreaming and hoping for better days but like myself, we sit and do nothing. Why do we desire things that we are not willing to work for? Unsatisfied with the accomplishments of the past we dream of the success of the future, but how can we look forward without acknowledging the past? Satisfaction of the things that have been acquired is the food of the successful person. Only when one can appreciate what they have accomplished can they accomplish more and reach their ultimate goal. But its easier to dream and whine about the problems of today. It is easier to blame others for our failure. Sometime it is comforting to see others fail and sometimes we get a warm homey feeling condemning those who were able to take the initiative to move forward. What causes this self-destructive hate? Are we born to aspire but not acquire? Are we so blinded by the norm of failure, that we no longer desire the better days but dream about it? The taste of success is relaxing, for the sweat that preludes it were sweat of determination. Unlike money, time is spent whether we like it or not, we just got to learn how to spend it.


Several punches to the stomach and the pressure of the spoilt food descend slowly and painfully. When would I get the time to be relieved? Sitting and typing my dreams into the zeros and ones hoping that one day these thoughts that flow through my minds then to my finger tips would be more than just arbitrary thoughts of my young mind. Rubbing my dry eyes and feeling the dry burning sensation of previously scratched skin I continue to type. The pressure of the spoilt food has subsided for now and my thoughts begin to stall. Small discomfort begins to churn around inside my body as lunchtime draws near. But these churns are not churns of hunger but churns of spoilt food. The food may not be spoilt but my body refuses to keep its indigestible remnants.

As the pressure increases, my head feels a slight pulse of pain and I begin to jib my feet rapidly. Before I knockout, I got up and head to place of decontamination. The release is good and the pains of poisonous fluid have been displaced. Life is good.

Muddy Life

Getting through the muddy terrain in our journey called life is hard. Sluggishly you wade through the thick and heavy brown substance hoping that you would eventually reach to solid dry land. But the sun makes a grand appearance today. The mud, which was once thick but fluid, is now dry and hard. You’re stuck. Your limps are now bounded to the earth and your progress has come to a halt. The days are hotter and the air becomes so dry that your sweat doesn’t have the opportunity to bead down your face. Bad breathe and strong body odor is worsen as your lips and skin prunes to the intensity of the sun. Dehydration begins to take control and you only day dream of better times as the mirages of oasis taunts you.

Without warning the dark menacing clouds race across the sky. There is no light and the only thing that can be heard is the growling stomach of the storm. The air begins to cool and the wind begins to blow, feeding you the dry and dusty ground. One drop falls. One drop crashes and spills when it hits the ground. One drop is the call, the call of millions to come. No tapping can be heard, for the earth is like a parasite feeding on the water of life. The shout of freedom roars in the distance. It grows louder and louder, as the drops call forth its brothers. Cool spikes of water begin to penetrate your body, healing the cracks of the earth and your sun burnt skin. Tongue outstretched like starved baby bird, you begin to taste every drop of life from the pouring heavens. The roar of freedom is upon you. Drenched in the clear and refreshing liquid of life, you’re energized for the final fight. Pulling and tugging, twisting and digging, you fight your way out of the softening earth. You eagerly emerge from your prison and run free like a slave with broken shackles. Run to the solid ground, where the earth wouldn’t fail you. Run before the prison reclaims your soul. Run, for it is your only hope. Run for you have been given a second chance.