Life is about Giving

We have to love each other for that is the only thing we have in life. We must care for each other for that is the only thing that keeps us alive. 

Always pay it forward. Give to others more than that which is given to you. Smile and laugh and make people happy. Talk to that person in the corner of the room who has no friends and you might find he has the most beautiful heart you can ever get to know. Compliment where it is due and always be truthful. If some things bother you do not lie, but be honest and explain what you think has to be changed, this way people respect you. Show affection to your family and friends. Be spontaneous and do not be scared to surprise people with gifts or good gestures that show how much you care about them. For would life be worth living without people to care for? 

Talk more to your elderly and listen to what they have to say, for they may have spent their life silent so that you may have the right to speak. Donate to those in need. Volunteer and help wherever and however you can. Make sure not to neglect those people that consider you a friend but you have been ignoring for a while. Treat everyone as equal. Be humble in your deeds and seek happiness. Trust people, but more importantly, be trustworthy. 

Live to give to others the life which is given to you. Only then can this world become a better place. 

Your Destiny May Keep You Warm

Loneliness

To be lonely is to feel lonely. Being surrounded by individuals, laughing and seemingly having fun does not necessarily mean we can't feel alone. To be alone is to be filled with doubt and fear. A smile, a hug and a sweet word can only alleviate the pain of loneliness but it cannot extinguish it.

Loneliness is an experience we all have to go through. It builds us, make us aware of what life really means. Of what we really want from life, of all that which we consider dear to us. It comes into us like a crashing wave that ebbs and flows with the passing time.

A man surrounded with people is a lonely man.

A thinking man who is silent is lonely.

Only a man that does not think is silent and not lonely.

On the Way to The Other Side

Respect, trust, affection. Why is it so hard to find all three? To express these to someone you care about? A person you have known for very long, yet a person who you still have to learn so much about. The struggles of every day, the pain of all these thoughts eats me from inside.

I stare blankly at the floor as the lights of the tunnel rush by. They look at me and I smile back. I wish they could understand but it seems they don't. I follow them like a sheep typing tirelessly as I strain to veer my mind away from it all.

The light of the night, the sound of the rails and the doubts in my head.

Metro, 25th March 2013

To The Wonder

How could I look at god and not be angry? How could I look at all the suffering and not be angry at god? No perfect god would allow such misery. No perfect god would allow such chaos in the world. And do not tell me that god has left man to be free, so that we may choose between good and bad and live a life of our own. If god is truly loving, why did he create a universe in which pain is present? That is to say that god is passive. 

To look at life as a struggle for survival is a more of a sound option. Only man is an entity who can truly love, who can truly care. It is only us who can help our own kind. Be truthful to your own life. Prayer cannot help anyone, only action can. Never be passive in the face of evil or misery. Being passive is as if you do not exist and life is more then just observing, it is about being part of that which happens to you and your fellow beings. Life is about learning about our origins, about learning how lucky we are to have evolved into a self-concious being. It is about being pleased in the happiness of others. It is about respect, trust and affection and about love. 

We do not need a god to live a happy life and have a purpose. The reason to live is life itself. 

Be happy.

Help each other. 

Care for others. 

Experience a journey to the wonder! 

A Moment For Myself

All I needed was a moment for myself.

So I left for a walk, hands tucked in my pockets, earphones in my ears, not giving a care in the world. People passed by and all I did was slightly look at them not really noticing who they were. I sat on a bench looking at the trees and the birds, listening to music. Then I walked a little more to feel the breeze in the air as I increased my pace to the rhythm of the song.

The clouded skies, the setting sun and I, all by myself, for a little while.

Nightmares

I wake up at the middle of the night, dehydrated, knowing that my brain is not functioning properly and I am dreaming weird stuff which somehow make me feel threatened or scared. This has been happening quite often recently but I usually just go back to sleep and forget all about it. Two nightmares which I've had in the past few days were very strange indeed.

The first one involved pencils. I dreamt about going for a biology practical at University in which we had to draw some animals. When I opened my pocket I found out that I had forgot to sharpen my pencils. I tried to sharpen them with a sharpener that turned out to be damaged. My pencils' tip ended up breaking all the time and I got really stressed out about this, to such a point that it was a nightmare. Yes, these are the nightmares I have. 

The second one was a bit more weirder and disgusting. I remember that I thought I had been sneezing because of dust in my room. Then I looked at my book very closely and on it I see a little critter with very small little things running around it. At closer inspection I realize that the object is a pseudoscorpion (basically a scorpion without a tail) and the smaller companions being his babies. I also felt my throat soar and then I looked at the bed on which I also found this arachnids lurking about my sheets. Then it struck me that the sore throat was a consequence of pseudoscorpions living within my windpipe. I figured out that they had been growing inside me and they were building a colony and I was worried I'd develop an infection of some sort. Figure that out for me please.

Anyhow, I'm sure that these conjured nightmares of pencils and scorpions are nothing more than the result of a tired mind. I feel that it is the least my brain can throw at me and then saying, 'Hey, you need to calm down with all this crap you're trying to make me suck up!'.

I agree but I'm sure I'll be having nightmares for years to come. 

Music is Magic

Today I woke up early and before I left to University I decided to open my desk's drawer. There I found my mobile headphones which I hadn't used for quite a while and I took them with me. On my way to campus the roads were barren. I turned on the car's radio and the sound engulfed me. I could only hear the engine revving and the music in my ears. It was a moment of bliss. 

When I arrived at the semi-deserted University I put on my headphones and turned on the same radio channel. I sat on a bench staring at thin air listening to the sound in my ears. I hadn't had a moment for myself like this in a while. A couple of people that were sitting around me occasionally looked at me and I looked back at them with a smile. For a few minutes they were only a figment of my perception. My brain was totally focused on the melody beating through my ears and all I could sense was the sound and the cold breeze of the morning touching my face. 

The sunlight shone over the buildings to my North across the valley floor. I looked at them and shook my head ever so slightly to the magic surrounding me. I had become one and whole with music, which at that moment was the only thing that really mattered. 

A Kindling Soul

I create a world from the remnants of my soul. From sadness I build self-comfort. From pain, reassurance.

I slipped away into a dark alley in which I found the peace I craved for. There I found myself. 

How could I be so blind? How could I not hear him crying and weeping? I made the people around me the core of my existence, and I got lost. The essence of my being eroded into this physical realm.

In the darkness I see a child playing with toys. He is smiling, his eyes ablaze with wonder, his soul emanating purity. I touch his shoulders and it all implodes. The walls cave in and the darkness consumes us both. 

And there I sit looking down at the floor, eyes closed. On my side a green seedling pushes through the black soil. I turn my head to look at it and it all comes back to me. 

Set on fire, a spirit of all that is and all that was burns across the plane of this realm. I watch as it feeds upon the darkness. It is warm and I'm comforted. 

The pain is gone, sadness devoured.

Long Ago and Far Away

Far away across the universe a rock tumbles in the void of space, racing towards Earth. 

It is the 27th of September. 

The early morning sun dawns across the lush green fields, the shadows of the trees and the chirping of the birds decorate the streets as I walk towards campus. I exchange smiles with friends and and we talk about the trivial problems of our lives;the upcoming scholastic year and the struggles which we would face in the next few months. Little did we know that these would be the least of our problems. 

I was asked a question once, "Do you believe in fate? Might we be living a pre-determined life?". I have always gone against the notion of destiny, but there comes a time when certain events and particular choices make you believe that everything happens for a reason. It's as if there is a superior force controlling us, a master-plan to guide us. What if I said no? Or what if I never met that person? Surely, my life would be different. 

Across the yard there is a shallow pool of water, the aftermath of yesterday's storm, and floating on it is a brown leaf. It slowly drifts with the wind in the light of the new day. The leaf once hanged from a branch that was part of a beautiful tree. This started off as a little seed in the soil and with time it grew into a majestic masterpiece of nature. The water that sustained it had been brought to our planet billions of years ago on space-rocks. Their sheer number created the oceans that harboured life, which eventually evolved into plants and lead to the creation of that little seed, that is now reflected in this dead leaf on the water's surface. Life is a cycle and so is human existence. 

I feel a tug on my shoulder and my daydream is broken. It is my friend and she looks worried. I realize that everyone around me has befallen to silence and they all stare at the skies. My friend looks at me and then lifts her head, and my eyes shift towards the direction to which she's looking. 

Up there in the blue satin of the sky is a blazing white rose of light that's tumbling towards Earth. 

Moods

Every now and then I feel lonely and sad. No matter who I talk to or whoever is around, I close myself in a bubble of solitude and beat myself to the core of my being, sucking the life within me to a dried shell of an existential pessimist. Memories rush through me like the the black clouds of rain on a summer evening and drench me with sorrow and grief to which there is no origin. My perspective on life changes and I look at it through a black lens of negative emotions. I feel as if there is no hope and no reason to be.

Then it dawns upon me that single thought of how lucky I am to be here, at this time. I remember about those families that have lost someone dear or about that mother whose child is missing. I contemplate in their pain my pitiful whining and give myself reason to stop such nonsense. I think about all those who have no home, no family. I regret my shameful negligence for being so dramatic when in reality I am so lucky to have all that which I have in my life.

I remind myself about the happy times, the tears of joy and laughter that far outweigh any hardship. And then I shut my eyes and fall asleep and I wake up the next day with a new outlook on life and with a smile. 

Moods are what keep us going, they keep us alive and ticking.

Of Blades, Darkness and the Sun.

The arrow shot from its strain with the power of a hundred bulls skimming through the air, chilling the atmosphere around it as it drove towards its target. 

Across the battlefield a young man dodged a curving blade as it slid over his head. His opponent was swift in his strikes, wielding a sword as long as his height with a dexterity only a master could possess. The young man looked at the woods on his sides. Darkness veered his thoughts into the forest, voices whispered in his mind. The sharp edge of the sword cut into his flesh and he yelled and stumbled. His side was profusely bleeding, his breath now heavy. The sword was swung again, and as he looked at the forest for the last time, the shadows of the woods beckoned and expanded through his vision.

In the darkness fear embodied itself into a spirit of malevolence. A nightmare crept in on the soldier, and grasped him from the neck. He felt chocking. A thousand blades of pain pierced through his brain crunching through the little shards of hope that were left lying around this universe. Battered down to the core the young man lost his grip on life and said a prayer for his last time.

A cold chill swept across his face and he opened his eyes. In front of him the swordsman stood still as if time had stopped, a sky-blue arrow embedded in his chest. His foe's body was engulfed in a prism of ice. The soldier looked up as if to thank the gods and through the clouded sky the sun's blaze cut its way and shone over him. The wound on his side closed off and with a renewed energy bestowed on him by a miracle he tucked at his back for his own weapon.

The silver claymore dwarfed the frozen swordsman as it was summoned from the soldier's back. The soldier pulled it up to the sky and he jumped.

''For Demacia!", he cried, and with a single blow he crushed his foe into chunks of ice that slowly melted in his shadow, cast by the sun standing at his shoulder.

The Chicken

Ok, so the story goes something like this; I got lost, in a park, in Portugal.

To shed light on some minor unimportant details, I was in Portugal for a youth exchange programme, living in a dormitory in a huge nature park with around fifty other individuals, sleeping on inflatable lilos, dying a little each night with the cold, and having the time of my life.

So we were given these humongous yellow gloves and yellow waste-bags and told to go out and clean the park from litter (we were not given any maps). I was placed in a team, and we started off our little adventure. Let's say it all started well and we were busy doing our thing, turning logs, collecting bottle taps and plastic bags. There wasn't much to collect, since I remind you, this was a huge park, and not many people were around, just the occasional jogger or a logger passed by. 

Anyway, after around a half an hour, I got this huge belly craving. Yes, I had to use the toilet, and I was around five kilometers away from this life-saving facility. So I ran back, as fast as I could, carrying a yellow bag full of litter. After around ten minutes of fast-paced walking I arrived and did my thing, and then it struck me. Now I had this dilemma; what to do now? 

Surely, my team-mates had moved on and I could not hear anyone or see anyone from where I stood. So I decided to track back from where I came from, and so I did. After another fifteen minutes of a now leisurely pace I arrived from where I had left, and lo and behold, there was no one! 

Giving not a care in the world, I opened another yellow bag and starting walking again, looking for little pieces of coloured materials that did not blend very well in their environment. I remember I walked by an abandoned football ground and tall spiky grass that looked as if it wanted to eat me. There was also this constant mashing sound of the gravel under my feet when I followed the four metre wide track. 

So I walked, and walked and walked, and still, there was silence. I came to a point where I thought I might be found dead, on a tree, at night, a week later, but I knew the park was closed and more or less in the shape of a circle, so I figured out that if I kept walking I would go around the circumference and find the dormitory again. Then I came across the periphery of the park, a huge metal fence by which the track continued uphill, and so I marched.

Around another five kilometres in the remarkable encounter happened. To my right I heard the woods rustling. I stopped. Could it be a bear or a wolf? - I thought. I tensed and waited, and it jumped out!

A chicken. 

Yes, a darn chicken! The beast looked at me and I stared back at it. A clash of wits ensued and we stood there for eternity (around ten minutes). It clucked, and I growled, and I won the battle. The chicken turned its back at me and started walking away to the North where I was headed, for it could not get back into the woods on the right or escape through the fence on the left, and I followed it. We walked quite a lot together, this fellow chicken and me.

On the way I saw a huge yellow mushroom growing on a dead tree, and the chicken waited anxiously to see what I was doing looking at that fungus as if trying to guess whether I wanted to trip on it or something. Walking forward, I met this man with a chainsaw wearing a mask (face-protector) cutting grass on the other side of the fence. For a minute or two he stopped mowing and looked at me (and more specifically at the chicken) and then carried on his work. I bet he was quite baffled by the scene.

Anyway, the story ends when on my way North on the horizon I saw a person. It was someone I recognized - a Portuguese - and one of the participants. So as we encroached towards each other, the chicken in the middle, always a couple of metres away from me came a point of suspense. The chicken was now caged between a fence, the woods, and two people. What the cluck should I do? - thought the chicken.

The response was the craziest thing I've ever seen. As the distance between the beast and her enemies became too small for tolerance, the chicken screamed like, well, a chicken would, fluttered its wings, as if it had a fit, and flew away into the woods (yes, it seems chicken can fly).

In the end, I found my way back to camp, following this weird Portugese guy, feeling insecure all the thirty or so minutes of walk back.

But at least I met a chicken.

The Girl in the Dark

Her silhouette left a black stain on the sparkling velvet of the night sky. She kneeled forward, reaching gracefully for a dead leaf floating between stars mirrored on the lake’s surface. As spirits of the dark whistled through the forest, the water rippled in response. The leaf veered sideways as she reached for it, and was swept away further into the lake, and into darkness.  Not even the light given off by the lantern she held could penetrate the realm of the night’s shadow.

 Even the moon was scared to exhibit its beauty tonight. It winked from between the army of fireflies dangling from the sky. The stars were her only comfort. They were both a guide and a friend. She knew them very well, and gave them names. There was the Red Giant and the Yellow Snake, and the brightest star, she called The Owl. Then there was the one that never moved. She named it The Sentinel, and the three stars that looked like brothers sitting beside each other on a wooden bench, the Three Imps. Giving names to the stars made her feel at ease at night, so that she could call out to them, and ask for forgiveness and help when the spirits of the dark murmured from the forest beyond the lake.

For in darkness lurked beasts and hungry ghosts of forgotten kinsman. In the lake, she knew, lived the ant-fish, with jaws so large, they cut down trees to build their nests in caves below. And further in, where the realm of the night’s shadow shaped itself into a forest of black wood and heavy mist, slept the seven hounds of Cérese, the maiden of the realm.

 And so it was, that tonight, Ophelia, the girl that lived in the white house on the hill beside the lake, ventured out to watch the brown leaves of Spring as they danced silently down to their sleep onto the waterbed. With a small copper lantern and a small brave heart, as the dead leaf disappeared from her view, she dipped her finger to touch the Yellow Snake, and for the first time in her life, felt the softness of the water of the lake as it wrapped around her finger, like a warm serpent coiling itself around her, inviting her to explore.