February

A year ago the dark February whispered a prophesy and I refused to believe. What was then only a hint of intention and unfulfilled potential, would cast a long shadow under which I still remain today. The fork in the road approaches with undeniable inevitability, and soon, very soon, I will not have the strength to cast another spell that would send the crossroads further down the road.

In the raging storm that is indecision, indifference is a safe haven.

Hollow

If a thought is a circle, then the reality perceives itself through the eyes of the beholder.

January

December

November

The sky is starless. Whatever light remains in the world lurks behind dark and matte grey clouds, so close to the ground and not nearly half-way to heaven. Then, take all this and heaven too, for every being has a limit for coping and my cup runneth over again.

What lies in smoldering ruins; arisings of concern with one's own welfare and the theology of satanistic deeds. Nay, no more, say I.

Orpheus

Standing firm on this stony ground
The wind blows hard
Pulls these clothes around
I harbour all the same worries as most
The temptations to leave or to give up the ghost
I wrestle with an outlook on life
That shifts between darkness and shadowy light
I struggle with words for fear that they'll hear
But Orpheus sleeps on his back still dead to the world

Sunlight falls, my wings open wide
There's a beauty here I cannot deny
And bottles that tumble and crash on the stairs
Are just so many people I knew never cared
Down below on the wreck of the ship
Are a stronghold of pleatures I couldn't regret
But the baggage is swallowed up by the tide
As Orpheus keeps to his promise and stays by my side

Tell me, I've still a lot to learn
Understand, these fires never stop
Believe me, when this joke is tired of laughing
I will hear the promise of my Orpheus sing

Sleepers sleep as we row the boat
Just you, the weather, and I gave up hope
But all of the hurdles that fell in our laps
Were fuel for the fire and straw for our backs
Still the voices have stories to tell
Of the power struggles in heaven and hell
But we feel secure against such mighty dreams
As Orpheus sings of the promise tomorrow may bring

Tell me, I've still a lot to learn
Understand, these fires never stop
Please believe, when this joke is tired of laughing
I will hear the promise of my Orpheus sing

--David Sylvian, Orpheus, 1988, Virgin VS1043

September

History repeating itself. The patterns have become clearer as the last piece of the puzzle fell to its place. To act upon impulse is luring, but I choose not to.

Not knowing what to trust, I embrace the unknown. Not knowing where to go, I stay here. Not comprehending the past, I must learn and understand. Being afraid to look at the potential, I will face the darkness in candlelight.

For the first time in aeons, I am afraid...