Heartbeat

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Do I look like I have won a battle in my dreams or something? (Photo credits to Ekamil Razali)

At times I find myself blungeoning deep down into the abyss of deeply-crested emotions.  My self is lost, fully submerging into an array of resounding heartbeats that pierce through the ear canal with as much pitch as the sound of gunshot.  As I descend, countless questions bombard my existence, some so easy I could simply hurl them back wherever they came from, some so difficult they nearly crush me with all their weight.

In all the mania of drama, yes, I am in reality, hurt.  Tired of the predispositions I have been placed in.  For no one knows not what I long for.  There exists this consistent battle between the silent heart and the beautiful mind.  Sometimes, the heart wins; sometimes, the mind.  Sometimes the heart and mind find a way to work together amicably, amidst all battle – and that, I tell you, that is a very funny thing.

Which is so because they have to please the Soul, a wondrous piece of art, mere atoms framed synchronously in position.  For the body is to live.

And when this occurs, gallant music orchestrates out from within the Chambers of Life, through the arteries, all the way up to the Pineal Gland, where the Soul sits.  His Eyes gaze forbiddingly, as if he had been forced to wait for the answers for too long.  His Ears catch the first notes of violin softly humming from far below.  Slowly, gradually, the harmony echoes through the empty space of flesh and blood, filling the entire abode of humanity.  As if the battle has been won.  It has, in its own way.

As for the Body – She triumphs.

Red Scarlet

The Blietzkrieg

Past midnight; really early, and it is a little more than a half-moon tonight.  A glass of chocolate caramel sits melting away patiently beside my books.

Thoughts scurry along the intricate wires of the charging station, awaiting their turn to be discharged to outside air.  Boxes of conciousness containing unspoken words swoosh along the neural tracks.

As I wade through the blurry pool of dreams, thoughts, fantasies, and feelings, and aims and goals, some left hanging unfinished, a few pleasant, and others with various degrees of disgust, my Chamber of Life pumps blood throughout my body. Upon my exit from the very first box, an array of bullets are directed towards me.

Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng.

Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng.

My shield.

I am fortunate to have it on for some form of protection, though it is still in steady, albeit gradual, growth.  At present, it is creeping upwards over my skin – one day it shall, with absolute certainty, envelope the whole of my physique and engulf me in the Flames of the Moment.

In the sepulchral silence where I now stand, the Chambers of Life thumping ever so diligently bringing full-Blood zest to the exercise of all my wont.  My heart is still with overflowing zeal, for the eagerness of exploration to as high up and as deep down shall experience some form of continuation in my journey through the earth.

That the body seeks success and the spirit satisfaction of wisdom I cannot deny.  It is through weather-beaten paths the march shall prevail till it reaches the summit of what-not, personal achievements.

The jet sitting in the center of the hall, with all the artillery arranged in rows beside it – that I shall board and take off to greater heights.

I have already switched on the engines.

Red Scarlet