We have this heart, do we all?

WE have this heart and we don't know what to do with it. When we constrain it, it rebels. When we set it free, it gets itself and you hurt. We have this heart and we don't know what to do with it. How can we learn to cooperate with this heart? How can we live in peace, in one piece maybe with a little chance of happiness here and there? What to do with this heart so restless, so young no matter how old and tired you are? 

This heart throws you off course, into a ditch by the road you made for yourself. Yet, you have to get up, pull yourself together, caress that heart and go on. 

How one can learn to deal with that heart s/he hardly knows, understands? This heart has its own entity, own space in you, claims more and more as it aches.

You cannot get angry with that heart, you cannot hate it, you cannot blame it and you cannot leave it behind. In the end, no matter how much it hurts to have a heart, you have to own it.

Make it your own.


Billy the Kid

The time to go

What do you prepare when the time to go approaches? Do you cook a meal? Try to cut a deal, with devil? What do you do? Throw away your watch, throw away your TV? What else can you throw away? 

You remember those friends you accused with horrendous crimes mentioned in the law book of friendship. You remember how unfair you were, how mean and selfish and wrong. You cringe.

You remember life and all within. Do you feel relieved to let go or stressed in the failure of it? Do you remember everything or just the aching, maybe some happy moments, lingering.

You remember music. How good it was to you! It was the only thing that understood you, you understood it. It was always in harmony. Do you care for a last piece of music before you went? No, you wouldn't dare, because you know more you listen, more you want to stay. It is better you go. One cannot live on music.

But you need to reach out to be reached at. Reach out. Breach. Beach. each. itch. You need limbs to reach out, you need arms and legs and hair. You cannot reach out with just a heart, shattered in pieces.

The time to go is when you know there are no more corners to turn. When you see the vast emptiness in front of you. When you no longer feel the heat or the cold. When you no longer look outside your window, for whatever reason. Happy people don't look outside their window. 

You are not happy though. Are you?

Billy in the Kid

Munch with alternate version

the silence is beckoning, once again, the cold face of fear takes over my soul. I shiver. I tremor. I cringe. I ask: Will I be able to pull it off this time? Will I be able to do it this time? As much as I feel fearless now, I know it will creep up on me once the moment is there. As much as I feel I am capable, once the moment is there, I know, I may, I would, I could chicken out. 

The cold breath of fear, my friend, freezes your air. You find yourself choking on to your dream, on to your fantasy, your reality. How do you beat the fear? How do you win? How can you prevent it from the ruin?

I have this very precious thing in my fragile hands, shaking. I don't want to give it up, I don't want to let it go, but I know I cannot taste it while my hands are clenched on top of it, but I know once fear smells the sweet smell of what I am holding, it will claim it. But until then, I will keep my hand closed tight on top. I will make sure, fear will not have its name written all over it. 

Until then, 

I will hide it. 

Until tomorrow.



Billy the Kid

Then I open my hands, just to take a peek at the beautiful thing I was holding, and I am rendered breathless. It is gone!!!! How could it be gone? I had my hands over it, all this time. Where could it have gone? I had my hands over it all this time.

What did I have in my hands, all this time? Did I even have anything within my palms? Did I mistake the warm breeze with that beautiful thing? But I was sure, I had seen it, I had felt it. It was there. It must be still there. I still can feel its warmth and weight, I just cannot see it. I want it back, you hear me devil, who snatched it off of my hands and hopefully will return it back without selling it...

I want my precious possession back. I want to see it back. Because the fear is gone. Because fear cannot touch it this time. Because this time, the warmth it radiates will melt my heart, and finally set me free.

I want it back, hear me you devil!!!!! 

You got me into this mess, you get me out!

Billy the Kid

How ready we are to hate?

end is where we cannot see the road bend, no curves ahead, no more straight lines. End is near my friend, my only friend, the end.
Are we ready to let go? Are we ready to show the other how to leave? Everybody leaves if you show them how, you sneaky bastard!! They won't even know that they have been shown, they'll just leave. Everybody leaves, my friend, my beautiful friend, in the end, if you show them how...
Love is not an emotion, it is an ability, just as leaving. If one is not able, we'll enable him. Everybody leaves if you show them how and we will show you how. We will show the bread crumbs to the ones that failed to follow the map, the guidelines, the orders and such. We will let you leave and you will never know..... for sure.... if you have left on your own or we had let you go.... but when the time is up, the time is up... there is no more space for both of us in this little bodice of mine you have been living in. I am leaving and you can stay if you'd like. But remember, nothing will be the same once i am gone. Everything will be different and different tends to be better...

for better tomorrows...

Billy the kid

God forbid

This is your life. This is as good as it gets. 
No, it can get better. It can always get better. Not through the more and more expensive Danish furniture you are able to buy, or closer and closer you get to the ring on the hockey games because of who you know and how much you can pay. But it can get better through that little telescope pointing in to the universe you are scared to look. That imaginative telescope so strong, so potent, you are just scared that you may see ‘god’ if you get yourself together to look in to it. That is why you keep it in the corner of a room you seldom frequent and you occupy yourself with hockey games and Danish furniture and rare expensive LP’s that makes you feel you are worthwhile.

But if one of these day, god forbid, you grow extremely tired of that little rat race of yours, one day find yourself amazed by the fact that you are not so interested in sitting in the very front row of the biggest game of the year, you may remember that telescope of yours and remember that it has your name on it.
You may reluctantly walk towards that room and reluctantly approach the telescope and place your eye against the end of it, your eyes lids covering your sight, you may hold on a seconds, give out a sigh, and whisper to yourself “Fuck it!.” As you open your eye, as you let the light sink in to it, as you work yourself to recognize what are you seeing, you sink in to an indescribable fascination. Hence, you don’t see god, you don’t see the end of the universe. But all you see is the back of your own fucking neck. Where do you go from there? Where do you go?

Turn of the centaur

We just voted nay, and nodded and looked away. We did not question, we did not complicate the procedure. You don’t want to complicate the procedure, it always ends bad one way or another. I personally did not even let myself grow a personal opinion about the subject, you just do not grow a personal opinion, you nay, you nod and look away. 
I sensed some had minor objections that held within, unspoken, wisely done, but what matters is it was MOSTLY agreed upon. Mostly. Unanimity has never been a requirement in these procedures, mostly was just enough. Sometimes I wonder how I let myself look over the fact that we have become such frivolous creatures that we just need to mostly agree on a ‘life’, initiation or determination of it. But then again, we had become such frivolous creatures long ago and now we had grown accustomed to its drawbacks, we even consider them commodities. 
Yes, we have lost a lot on the way to our survival, we might have even lost our humanity, but we are still alive, you see, no matter what, we are still alive, and that all it matters. Human or not, we are still alive. Most of us don’t even have the same organic construction anymore that once has defined us as humans. Human is not in the genetics or physicality, or in the character. Human, now, is in the game. You pick a side to fight with and you stick with till the end. Human is just the name given. Of course, one has to have some form of attachment to the name one way or another, say, the looks, the chemistry, the genes, but most of the time these attachments were over or under looked as long as it served to purpose, being, winning. And we have been winning, wouldn’t you say? We have been winning oh so gloriously and celebrating it as well.
It is not appropriate for me to talk in the name of the humans. After all, I may be the one true human left in the party, I still don’t like the kind. I despise the human. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, I am one of the true ones left. There are 3 of us. So I reign this human kind, because I am one, a true one, though I hate it but cannot be accepted in any other party, because I am true. I have been working against my kind for sometime now, wanting to extinct it. I do not tolerate love. Love makes you do stupid things proven over the history over and over again. I forbid love. I do not allow love in my reign. Go to other parties if you want to love. They will let you love. Some of them thrive from love. They only survive through love. They live in the desert and I do not bother with them, hence they destroy themselves with this thing called love. They kill in the name of it, they hurt in the name of it and they will extinct in the name of it and I will only watch. I do not bother with them. They will bring their own end with or without my help. But I will not allow love spreading within my land. I want a clean end for my party, not a messy one that the desert parties are having come at them.
So I am executing all over the land, with or without a reason, hoping one would rise against and overthrow me. But guess what? Nobody rises. Everybody watches, knowing that one day it will be their turn to die and I kill and kill and wait and hope for that one that will rise against. In the end we are down to the core 3 true humans, looking at each other and I realize: fuck. What to do now? I cannot get myself to kill my own blood, my mother and father, neither they can kill me. So here we are, in this abundant land waiting to be milked, But we cannot do anything because we are disabled, we are confused, we have lost the track of our reasoning. We didn’t see it coming until the last member was killed. And when that one was gone and I ordered for the next one to be brought in and there was no sound, no movement that I could catch from the corner of my eye, mom said it:
“I think you’ve done ‘em all.” I think I’ve done them all. What is next mom? Silence. Dad? Silence. It all up to me again and I am yet again answerless, not that my answers were ever correct.
I order we wait. We wait. We wait. Until we forget what do we wait for and who we are. How long would that take?

Homage