Via Vision

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

Tuesday, January 25, 2005


A time comes in our life where meaning escapes our grasp. Tirelessly we grab at moments, things and emotions to give us the meaning that we are looking for to make it to the next day. But our realization of the pretense always catches up on us. We can only pretend to be fine for a while until the pressure crushes us and makes us explode.

How much meaning can one gather in their life to make their life meaningful? Is it the recycling of known things that keeps us sane throughout our lives? At what age during our life would the meaning of our life be clear to us? Without meaning there is no reason to exist. Slowly life becomes a puzzle with an unreachable solution as we calculate the purpose of our existence. It’s easier to forget you exist than to realize you do. Realization of existence places an unknown pressure on a person. Only a person who has reached that level of self-awareness can relate. Time, money and things of the world seem to be all meaningless, for everything we desire can be obtained and offer shallow pleasure.

Is there a lost link that gives us meaning in our lives? That lost link would change the way we process the world and the way the people of the world process us. When one comes to a realization that the only thing worth living for is the people and not the things that temporarily stimulates just a few of our senses would the world we live in change. The meaning that we have been searching for was always there. We have become so preoccupied with ourselves that we didn’t realize that the answer was always with us.

When its over

Dull days are dreadul. The sun refuses to shine and the day is cold. People’s displeasure with the weather is expressed with their morning greetings. Sluggishly the day passes and work is more monotonous than the day before. If only the sun can shine and warm the chill hearts of the depressed.

Unlike other days in which the sun can warm the earth, in winter the sun is powerless. The great ball of fire loses its strength and only through artificial means can the lost heat of the sun be regained. Cold wind makes the stubborn cry and the burns naked skin. Rubbing and cuddling are the few means in which the poor soul can stay warm in this dreadful weather.

Luckily, winter doesn’t last forever. Well atleast not here. Spring is due and the cool rain would melt away the snow and wash away the freezing cold days. Trees and plants would regain their glory and the earth would return to its beautiful green. But even spring has its days where the sun hides its face. Gradually the warm days would be upon us and this would be great, even if it only for a while.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Thoughts with Greater Understanding

Purpose without knowing direction seems hopeless in a world with many streets and avenues. Greatness within the humility is only seen by the humble and not the fake. Time seems so short, but yet it slowly passes by as we eagerly wait for the next day. Loved by many, but the loneliness isolates the love that is transmitted through the air. Understanding beyond the norm is the curse of the immortal unto the mortals. The end is drawing near, but its distance feels as if it’s increasing. Blindness caused by sight focusing on the wrong things would lead to destruction. Yearning to be free, but unable to find oneself is useless. Destiny without knowing the path is the fear of the destined. The end without ending is the termination of time. Immortality a realization that all things that are mortal would come to an end.

Blissful Fire

Fire is so pretty. The way it flickers and violently runs with wind on those breezy days. Its so hot and so dangerous, yet there is an urge to touch. Feeling its warmth isn’t enough at times. Feeling the heat is almost enough but not quite. Feeling the wrath of the fire is the real desire.

Being burnt is not a pleasurable but memorable. It’s the scars of the burns that stay with us forever. Sometimes we need those scares inorder to move on with our lives. These scars of pain and suffering while being the stepping-stone for some, are the crumbling of a stable foundation. The choice is yours and mine. To play with fire or not to? Is there progress from the burns or is there loss? There is only one way to find out.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Sleep its cold

With a filled stomach, my eyelids slowly drape my vision. Intoxicated with sleep I swerve back and forth trying to stay awake. Today is cold and Time is taking a ride on the snail’s back. Caribbean sun and Caribbean heat burns into my mind as I frequently fall asleep. Comforting rest is calling me. The weight of digestion is wearing me out and sleep is the only solution, without a doubt.

My head feels heavy and the tall green grass hides me from the midday sun. The old tree that guards the public swimming pool walked across to shade me. Several chills run through the capillaries of my skin and my body begins limp with weakness. Sudden jerks of awareness and the suns yellow light become white. Sharp neck pains turn the round sun in to white blocks of fluorescent lights. Exposed skin burns with the coldness of the day and not with heat of the midday sun. The air is warm and humid, but the dry and flaky skins pull me out of the tropics.

Must stay awake for I am at work. The bed calls yet it is so far. One small nap is all I need and desire. My urge to curl up on the carpet floor rises, so I sit with my eyes rested as I fight the after lunch beast.


The cold chill of outside can freeze your heart and soul. Eyes water as the winds blow. Cuddling together, we try to contain the warmth needed to stay alive during the harsh winter. The coldness feels as if it would never end. Brightly the sun shines, but it is unable to warm this part of the earth, that is crying out with frosted arms for the forgotten heat of the sun. Snow falls gracefully towards the frozen brown grass, littering the ground with its holy white. Spring is nowhere insight and nowhere to be found. Until the sun regains its heat, I am stuck with frozen toes and a frost bitten nose.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

As a Child

As a child, your mind is so playful. Thoughts of fairies and magic carry you to imaginaries worlds beyond reality. It was so much fun playing make believe and thinking out of the box. One can even say that a child always thinks out of the box, because they have not been conformed to the world’s thinking as yet. The ideas of riding clouds, visiting the villages of fairies, elves and dwarves were so exciting. Being a child enabled me to have fun with boring and uninteresting objects, because the power of imagination was so strong. A simple box became a house, spaceship, castle wall or anything that can be imagined.

Those days are now gone. The mind of an adult is so restrictive and politically correct that is sometimes obscene to imagine. Why did the beautiful imagination of my childhood disappear? Why must the world be so cold and rigid? What cause us to change? There is no room for imagination in a world of adults.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Tears of Redemption

Softly the wind blows through her hair as she stands on the natural pillar of rock that stood several hundred feet high. The clouds blanket the view of the earth, and all that could be seen are the tall pillars that were able to pierce through the cotton floor. Trees with thick brown trunks and deep green leaves, held on to the rocky pillar for their lives. A small puddle of crystal clear water stood in the middle of the plateau, mirroring the grey sky. As she neared the undisturbed puddle, her white clothing clanged to her body with the free ends flowing gracefully in the wind.

Her journey was coming to an end. Climbing the pillar to the puddle of depression was a task she had never dreamed of undertaking in her youthful life. She knelt at the edge of the puddle and gazed into still water. As she looked at herself, her reflection of her beauty began to blur as tears filled her eyes. One drop and her pains would fade away. One drop and the puddle of depression would bring light to her darkness. From the opaque vision, her teardrop slowly pulled away from her eyes and fell towards the puddle of water.

A sudden wave disturbed the perfect mirror when her teardrop touched the water. Small watery hands reached out and grabbed her head. She closed her eyes and the hands buried her face into the water. Echoes of voices repeated,

“Open your eyes.”

Carefully she opened her eyes and to her dispair, all of her pains and sufferings were revealed to her. Her soul wept bitterly as she felt her life slipping away.

Suddenly her head was pushed out of the water. Quickly she gasped for air as her head flew back looking towards the sky. She looked around confused as to where and why she was there. The pillars of rocks decorated with small stubby trees towered above and around her.

“I must have fallen asleep,” she said.

Then she began to make her way back home, totally unaware of the why she was there and what lead her to pillars of rocks.

The Unseen Force

It cannot be touched but you can feel it. Gradually it seeps into your soul and makes you whole. You can feel the softness of its pressence and the comforting warmth as others shares it with you. Life is breathed into your nostrils because of it. Hands of assistance are outstretched to aid others because of its power. Contagiously it spreads across the globe and changes the lives of everyone that it encounters.

Love is the unseen force that brings us together and keeps us a live. It’s the force that we feel but yet we cannot touch. Love has no visible form, but we can see the effects of it as we go through life. Without love, life would cease to exist. For it is the unseen force that bonds all living things together and the force that make us care about the existence of others instead of our own existence.

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Wise Children

Children with words of wisdom are nothing but children. Men with words of wisdom are wisemen. That’s what I am told but my understanding is different. We are all young and we are all children. Wisdom comes from both the young and the people we call old. Realising that wisdom is independent of age is a realisation that normally comes at an age near death. Wise children are able to come to that realisation long before their death draws near.


Well, it is my fault. I buried my head under the fertile dark loamy soil. Everyday the creatures of the earth salute me, but I refuse to acknowledge their support. The surface is so close but yet so far. If only I can pull my head out of the dirt and see the sun’s light. It is all my fault. Time has slipped through my hands as a fool trying to catch water with a strainer. Should I remain buried in regret or should I strive to the top with the little time I believe I have? I open my eyes and all I can see is darkness. The moist dirt rubs against my eyes as I try to look around. Rapidly I blink, causing my polluted tears to free my eyes from the roughness of the dirt. I can feel my fingers again and I feel a cool breeze flowing on the earth’s surface.

“Its just my head that needs to be freed”, I encouraged myself. With my hands pressed flat against the soft dirt, I carefully pull my head from the ground. It was so easy to break free, yet I waited so long. The dirt above my head slowly slides off my head and my watery eyes and dirt fill mouth and nose are finally uprooted from my place of comfort. My nose begins to burn and I cough out the sweet saliva soaked soil from my mouth. Then the rain began to fall. The God of all creation has sent the waters to purify me from my foolishness and the filt that I have been one with for the longest time. The pouring tears of the father quickly wash away the dirt trapped in my eyes, mouth, nose and hair. I am clean and I could now breathe and see clearly. My eyes is still burning with the smaller particles of the ground,but atleast I can see more than the darkness that once comforted me. The clouds part and the sun’s rays eat the water off my skin. Finally, I can accomplish the things that I had put off in the past. No longer shall my head be rooted in the futile ground of procrastination, for I have uprooted myself from its soil. With burning eyes and runny nose, I look forward to better days.

Life of the Good

Being polite is the curse of the wicked. It’s the ideology that is used to enslave others. People walk over you when you are kind and courteous. Who gives a damn about the good people? The people that never notices the folks who are always willing to help? Who really cares about being treated nicely? For when people are treated nicely, they look for ways to exploit the person that is treating them with greater respect than their peers. In the midst of the filth, the good people still flourish and are able to sleep well at night, even though the footprints of their friends, family and strangers are imprinted all over their good soul. I guess this is just the way of the world we live in. Step on those who are kind and caring for they are weak in mind. But in reality, these are the people that keep the world alive despite the evil that surrounds them.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Rain Falls

Drop by drop the rain falls and each droplet collides to ground creating more droplets that disperse in all directions. The rain fills the crevices and the depressions of the earth, creating patches of mirrors that are frequently disturbed by the falling rain. The day looks grey and gloom, yet is the trees look fresh and healthy as their leaves dip with the weight of the collected water. Small streams of water run through the grass like capillaries feeding the once dry soil. The air feels clean and fresh, with all the dryness of the past hour fading away. Cool air rushes into my nostrils and fills me with the delight, as I smell the rain filled air. Moments like these are so precious to me, for it reminds me of the cycle of life and the small part I play in it.

I am soothed by the tapping of the rain on the rooftop and warm chocolate that I consume with every slurp. Sitting watching the rainfall in veranda is so peaceful and complete. The only sounds that resonate in my ears are the gushing of the water and the tapping of the rain’s droplets. Time slows to a crawl and my head feels light with the rejuventating spirit of the replenished air. My eyes slowly close and my soul absorbs the moment. I fall into trans of peaceful bliss until I am interrupted by the silence after the rain falls.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005


The candle flickered in the dark room and the old woman ready to retire walked carefully towards it among the clutter. One quick blow and the candle was out. Small particles of saliva trapped with the fagrance of old breath, quickly spread across the room. Smaller particles of water are found in clouds. These small globs join together to form the rain, which falls to the ground. The earth is filled with rich and fertile soil, which brings life to the plants and supports them during the storms. As the wind blew, the trees sway back and forth holding onto the earth for it’s was its only savior. Leaves waved jubilantly as the wind blew stronger, like an airplane engine ready for flight. Up we go into the clouds as the things of the earth slowly shrink in size. The houses, the people the car all shrank as the plane ascended into the air. The curvature of the earth was more apparent than before as the plane ascended even higher.

Suddenly the earth spanned rapidly and the water and all the things on earth stopped existing. Names of places and cities popped up from everywhere. One finger was placed on the globe and the earth stopped at Africa. Roaming the African plains were the lions and the elephants. Herds of wild animals crossed the plain and the dust of the dry ground rose. Swirling dust like layers of blankets covered the brown grass of the plains. Not to far were lakes of water scattered with white lilies. The lilies stained the dark blue water like a flower-textured sheet. A sudden wave in the still lake and the flowered sheet covered the old woman as she laid to rest.

Monday, January 03, 2005

Life Gem

Life is so beautiful and the things that make it beautiful are not the things you have accomplish, but the moments you share with others. It stains your mind for the rest of your life. These moments are very volatile and can vaporize very easily when things are tough. We must try to hold onto the good memories that we have, for it is the only thing that makes life worth living in the toughest moments in our life. Appreciate the time spent with the ones you love, for the time spent with the ones you love is the most precious thing life has to offer.

The Truth

The darkness that is ourselves,

Hide us from the light of God.

The Ancient of Days has prepared a way for us,

But we refuse the path that would shatter the shackles of sin.

How can I see the misery of others and not speak of God’s love?

How can I not share what I know with others?

The fear of rejection should not blind us from the work we must do.

We should not falter to the coolness of being different.

The veil of religion shouldn’t blind us,

For that day would be the day we follow the path to damnation

The lord is your light

So don’t shut your eyes even though it shines so bright.

Through time your eyes would adjust

Through time you life would transform into what God desire.

We weren’t meant to feel pain or hurt.

We weren’t meant to die or tell lies.

Being brought into a world o sinfulness,

Blinds us from the true image and love of God.

Don’t let the words of your heart guide you.

For your heart hides the truth from you.

Turn to Jesus the savior man

For he would cleanse your heart so that your ways are true

The Sovereign God of the entire universe

Has made a path for us to choose

The path that would bring us happiness and light

The path that is right and just.

Don’t let the end come upon you

When your heart is full of sin and mind is lost to sin, which binds you

For God is on your side

Take his hand

And let pull you out of the sinful quicksand

So that you will be free

The way you were meant to be.

There isn't a Bond

One person stands in the mist of the crowd but the bond between the one is non-existent. Browsing through the catalogue of subjects lead only to displeasure for his taste is different from others. But is it really different or is it that his eyes are clouded by unresolved issues? Willing to join and become one but unwilling to attempt the bond would bring him more unhappiness. Stifled by the norm which has become so monotonous he sits daily pondering the “What ifs”, ignoring the world around. The day, in which he acknowledges his isolation, the pain of loneliness strangles him as he try to understand the reason why. When would he break the chains he created? When would he realize that his environment is what he created? And when would he see that his surroundings can be manipulated by changing the person inside? So he sits there everyday, wasting away his existence by dreaming of being on with another.