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BANG BALLS
FREEDOM OF SPEECH NOTHING SHOULD BE IMPOSED
IDEAS NOT LEECHED ONLY CREATIVELY COMPOSED |
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Sunday, November 30, 2008
His Epitaph. This is what was written on his tombstone: For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. Thursday, November 27, 2008
Prophetic. This feel of melancholy is fast fading. As lights twinkled along the busy road, rays of dazzle enticed me. My vision was blurred - a whirl. It was all a starry daze. I stopped, momentarily and pondered if it was light that blinded or enlightened. Light had the power to show man his path, his road of life. But at the same time, light had this duality to it. It could bedazzle for a second and then stun for the next. A myriad of consequences from just a small ray of light. I chose to believe that the lights gave man freedom, the freedom to know that they will never have to live in darkness again. Awfully optimistic, sweetly pessimistic the failure of light, will give man more to hope for. My thoughts flashed by, like bolts of lightning; claps of thunder and the sweet patter of the rain. The rhythmic beat of the falling droplets, gave the silent surrounding a melody, a beat that everything hung to. It was the musical staffs for the notes; without it, music could never be made. In the midst of the storm, all the surrounding went dark. It was terrifying. The unknowingness and anticipation of the subsequent clap of thunder or bolt of lightning left many weary. Just like the heart, who awaits results from the beautify of flowers adorned on young maidens, the splendor of nature; of love, cannot be known. The desire and passion through fiery prove futile in time of awe and penance. This was written in-between consciousness and unconsciousness. All grammatical and strucutral errors were made UNKNOWINGLY. In the spirit of freewriting, I christen this as sleepwriting. I never knew that I had the gift of prophesy. Bless thee for thou hath sinned. Saturday, November 15, 2008
Game for Two. While two can play a game, The two can also play the same game. Monday, November 10, 2008
Mr Jacket & Dr Hide. We all know the timeless tale of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. We know the deceptiveness of man, and his ability to mask potential evil. Prudes know this as hypocrisy, while I, choose to acknowledge it as Emotional or Social Quotients. Honesty is the best policy. But, would you jeopardize your very own security and stability just to be honest? The self-righteous often preach so. And the morally decadent usually fall into reclusion at the slightest mention of being truthful. Don't get me wrong, lying is morally unacceptable, but at times, there are some things that we need to keep secret to ourselves - is this lying? Man is a creature made to survive in a society of others. From birth, he is to conform to the stereotypes and perceptions of culture – which very possibly, is historically influenced. Oldwife tales and senseless superstitions are evidence of history’s illogical grasp on the modern mans’ intelligence. We conform not because we want to, but because we have to. It is not a choice that we make, but an option that has no alternative. The societies we live in form taboos and laws that are unique and indigenous to our communities and us. When we fail to toll the line (their line), we are ridiculed, prodded and even punished. We start to crave for an avenue where our innermost demons can be unleashed; where our socially-perceived-wrongs maybe accepted. This desire grows and we soon start to lapse into a state of deception – first to ourselves, and slowly, the others around us. We convince ourselves that our minor differences and preferences are actually acceptable. Initially, we start to experience the feeling of guilt. It is this guilt that prevents and somewhat restraints us – not the laws or taboos which society binds us with, for it is this guilt we truly fear. It is a tragedy that we can only ever manage to convince ourselves. The Herculean task of changing the perceptions of the others around us often fail upon the shoulders of us mere mortal man. Because we cannot shape and shift their thoughts and beliefs, we start to discover us escaping from reality to do-the-deed. We build a façade where no one can penetrate. We flout the rules and break the laws. We knowingly do what is wrong. We no longer feel guilt. Soon, we are engulfed by this inability to feel what the conscience speaks. Right is not wrong, and wrong probably right. Our moral compasses start to get confused and we fall prey to these failings of man. We shroud our darkest secrets and perversions in the darkness of our shadows. We tell no one of it. It is our little secret, a secret between myself and I. Nobody knows, and nobody should. We start to form another persona, our very own Mr Hyde (feel free to call him whatever you want, he is after all, your very own Frankenstein). Our community knows us as Dr Jekyll, and we work to preserve such a perception of ourselves. We put up a front that concurs with what is expected of us. We do good and refrain from evil. But when the world has its’ back turned, we unknowingly unleash the tyranny of our Mr Hyde. These small bouts of Mr Hyde remain invisible to the watchful eye of society. Our potion that catalyses this change is our desire for difference and unconformity. Should you embrace Mr Hyde? No. Should you fear Mr Hyde? No. Mr Hyde is something we all have in us. We have dark secrets we want to keep exclusive to ourselves. There are little bits of private information and fetishes we want kept hidden in mystery. It is perfectly acceptable to want privacy. It is when Mr Hyde starts to overgrow and overshadow the Dr Jekyll in you, should you start to worry. Self-restraint is something Dr Jekyll has, and Mr Hyde, an obvious lack of. There is always a Mr Jacket in our closet. Don it when necessary, but never fall prey to its’ prowess for it will lead you to corners where Dr Hide will devour your soul. |
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