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The long tedious recovery

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The long tedious recovery Empty The long tedious recovery

Post by Laufrey Sat May 30, 2009 5:19 pm

Hector dipped his new old fashioned quill into the small wound on his chest refilling it before finishing the last of tonight's entries, each in a different language and code he'd devised some time ago to deal with snoopy kindred. He was lost in the scratch of the quill upon handmade parchment that had taken him a week to find for the quality.

****

(English)Why do we as young gods treat each other as a dog treats a fire hydrant? To be made ours with a mark and then forgotten unless another intrudes. Are we simply in a phase of our ultimate creations or simply how we exist in a harmony of discordant fruition with ourselves?

****
(Greek)
My anger,
A deadly thing to be sure,
Not uncaring,
For in its caring it only grows,
To coil in its massive depths,
Not unlike a snake or even the great Nidhog.
No wish to crush or even kill,
But to satisfy the hungry urge,
Of inflicting its own pain into others,
To hear the breaking of the body,
Knowing that familiar pain,
Relishing the crumbling sanity of a shattered mind,
Having agonized in the pursuit if something rebuilt,
Laughing as the splintered soul slips away,
Viciously hating the certainty of no more hope,
Except in a shared experience with others,
For it knows far more pain than perhaps it should,
Even understanding death as a peace and rest,
It refuses,
Not for spite,
Because it cares enough to hate and live,
Rather than give up,
The dance is only just been warming up,
Why step out now?


****
(Sanskrit)
Upon a three sided coin I stand,
Sit, stretch, scream and run,
Because I am of one I am and neither another,
Yet for all the mirrors of self,
I reflect into the all of nothing,
For even where I stand is void.


****
(Latin)
Peace in the absence of conflict is a lie.
From the expanding universe,
To the three sided coin of our existence in growth,
All is in conflict from one angle or perspective,
So it becomes to always be in conflict,
Such is the struggle of being.
We can achieve an idea of peace,
But it is only comfort to shades of conflict,
Akin to choosing to be color blind,
For any expansion room must be made,
To grow from child to adult takes sacrifice,
Sacrifice is essential for conflict,
The rock dislodged from its home,
Sp that it may begin the avalanche,
No reason,
No purpose,
Except what is made during and after,
Striving to become no reactionary victim,
Another conflict of humanities struggle,
Breaking the chains of fear so comforting,
That we run to them every time we threaten,
To break them and become our own gods.



After he finished he smiled as the last always brought him a certain joy. He deliberately exhaled as he reclined in the luxury hotel chair of his temporary residence as he enjoyed the sensation itself, plus the amusement it gave him to the tightly wound kindred he'd dealt with. As he closed the book he looked at it's thickness and contemplated how empty it was and the time it would take to write all his material again let alone the books he'd lost that were irreplaceable originals he'd have to write. He pondered the use of a computer, it would be easier plus able to copy let alone back up and everything but then so many more could gain access as well with the tools necessary to break his coding, no this was by far safer. He'd honestly thought of not even bothering but he couldn't be around to teach the worthy all the time, not to mention if he met final death, what a waste if all his work became naught as no one ever knew his insights.

He stored the book in a new travelers bag and set out looking to finally interact with the cities Kindred, no sense in dragging it any further.
Laufrey
Laufrey


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