Friday, 11 October 2019

Planet


I’ve been here, since the dawn of your time. Walking amongst you, breathing the same air as each one of you. Tainted by your imaginations, your machinations, I’ve smiled and cried at such events within this time. Now, upon this day, I’m struggling as I can see my future.


I’ve witnessed the birth of a thousand sparks, the death of a million memories, as well as the moments that scared and scarred my very skin. I’ve seen all of it, everything, every dream, every shattered embrace and more.

I’m now within a place that I thought I’d never reach. The dissolution of an entire race, coming to an end, to awaken towards a new environment and emotion. You’re changing, becoming something different; be the moment good, or even a hesitant bad, it shall come to pass.

Within moments, the second that I could interject another wavelength of thought, I’ve gestured the will to change the path for all of you. Destiny, on the other hand, cannot be denied. Whom, or who am I, to state any objection? If a man, woman, or whatever you seek to call yourself upon this very day, seeks oblivion through whatever source imaginable, then so shall the moment commence.

My interjections, notwithstanding, shall never be entered into any conversation, past, present or future. My role, my entwined conscience, is to watch. You shall vanish, fading into the very energy you once arrived from within. The two, can become the three, no matter the consequence, situation or selfishness. Life continues, as shall I, as your smile vanishes and your very warm touch crumbles to nothing.

You are, above all, vacantly obsessed with wealth, fortune and the looks and views from another. Trapped, within a storm of your own making, never to be free until you open your fist that’s filled with gasping pain. Self-worth, the indulgence of your pride, being the un-doing of all accomplishments.

Hold each other, embrace your fragilities, and hold the hand of a person that needs to be held. The accomplishments that could be achieved are near limitless, if only, for a moment, you’d all work together to become something more. Rise, stand, open your hearts to each other and embrace the very notion that you are all connected. Each one of you. The dilution of travel, the gender of becoming nothing more than one.

I hear each of you breathing, expelling your very emotions over everything you touch and inhabit. Like a disease, you could all cure so many ailments if it were not for the divide. Segregated by lines, colours, ideologies and other facilitated understandings. Two arms, two legs, one heart, a mind of thought and lips of emotion. This and this alone, is the only understanding that each of you require.

Nothing more, everything less, the understanding of life and how transient it is. Believe, in yourself, understand the others around you, appreciate and never demotivate. You can all be so beautiful. There will always be differences, which should only be held close. This makes each and every single one of you unique, as well as wondrous to the imagination. You strive to be accepted, which leads each of you to comply, to be segregated, to be manipulated by the items and thoughts we reap.

For me, for each of you, strive, grow, become, resist the temptation and stand tall with every single person around you. I need you to change. I have seen such beauty within, around and upon me. I’ve felt your tears touch my skin a trillion times, the silent, painful, breaking of a person amplified over so many seconds, over so many moments and hours. It breaks me, hurts me, with my own anguish becoming nothing more than the sadness I can no longer tolerate or accept.

I do not wish to hurt any of you, as you are my children. Born from me, the very air I create giving you the life needed to exist within your own small spaces. Widen your view, open your ears and hearts, engage the power that has been suppressed from the teachings of other and strive to understand. I am your planet and I am in pain. Listen to me, before the very day, you’re removed from me forever. I will die, one day, from sun fire or the frozen emotion of space. Until then, each of you, all of you, can find another path, to save my very life.





Tuesday, 8 October 2019

Cold


The cold clambering frost tried, as much as it could, to move into her blanket but it was no use. Her heart, still beating, managing to survive most of life’s harsh words, kept on pumping the way that it wished to move. Each beat, powerful, defiant, no longer willing to withstand the bitter and cruel world outside.


She’d withstood, endured all the damned idiotic pain within her world. Empowering, lasting, embracing her pain and often suffering emotions. She held the blanket closer to her body, feeling the warmth and grace of its tender inflections. This was her safe zone, her place, her mood for the moment that ensured her safety. Words, above all, often knew a way of working their way through any and all defences.

She’d heard all of them. Many of them. The put downs, the reasons, the fault to which she often unknowingly took the blame. She was this, maybe that, as her mind and emotions simply agreed to make the words stop. No matter the bruises, the verbal or physical, she knew that the images and respirations would endure. She carried on. She always would.

Sipping the small cup of hot chocolate, closing her eyes as the warmth entered her body, she reflected upon her life, her world, her emotions and more. This place, this moment, was one of those seldom found explanatory, exploratory, escapes and sanctuaries. She smiled, as her eyes opened to the world in front of the window. The icescape world, the beauty of white, the purity and refresh of the land, calmed her. Although she didn’t adore the cold, she surely embraced a scene such as this.

Her self-confidence, ever so slightly shattered, with the various words and deeds becoming her norm. Reprogrammed, re-purposed, to ensure another’s emotional vacancy remain intact, she’d learned to finally say, ‘no’. She’d pushed away the moments of pain, to deny his pleasure inflicted upon her with harsh abundance. He was skilled, acquainted with the verse of words that escaped his mind, with his heart probably being left alone from a young and tender age. The spoilt spoiled person, wreaking havoc upon another.

Each time she’d tried, she was set to fail with his type of support behind her. She felt her own self-doubt infect, reaping away her energy to succeed within her life, unable to find that simple little belief that she needed. She’d watch others thrive or, even, smile as they did the simplest life tasks with ease. The self-doubt turned inwards, focused her thoughts into the cold, chastising melodramatic drama of angst and tears. She was, to her own eyes, worthless.

The cold followed her, calming her inner demons, until the day she finally started to listen. Each word, analysed. Each circumstance, reflected upon, until she finally and dramatically said one simple word, ‘no’. Other words were eventually raised from within her inner monologue, ‘no way’ and, ‘no chance’. She started to rise. Slowly, surely, each step upon the icy ground moving her forward.

Upon a cold day, a shallow day, void of emotional connections or sympathy, she finally said what she’d wanted to say for the longest of times. She calmly explained, exclaimed, that she was no longer willing to endure the pestilence of another’s failing emotional mind. She proclaimed that emotions were gentle, sympathetic, tender and kind. She stated that feelings were precious and that they were to be cared for, held, and embraced with the most tender kisses imaginable.

She, this person wrapped within the warmest blanket, had finally escaped the emotive ups and downs, with one brave, final, emotionally vacant explanation. She stood. She left. She moved forward but would never, ever, forget the cold she’d endured year after year. She, again, smiled, knowing, realising, that she’d finally and bravely, found her own cold safe exterior that would protect her precious, burning, healing heart.

Click to Listen


Friday, 4 October 2019

Think


I think of you, in those small silent moments, when life manages to give me a second’s rest. Your smile, your face, your warm voice that used to hold my hand no matter the occasion, place or time. You were always there, even when I was bare, lost, emotional and hiding. You, above all, understood me.


I think of you, when I hold my emotional insides together with anything, everything, that I can find in that minute when I’m lost. All the strength, all that passion within me, expressed from the years of your silence when you wanted to say so much, but said so little, with mountains crashing into small hearts at the thought of your sadness.

I think of you, when I just want to give up. To throw myself to the ground, proclaiming that I’ve failed, forever more and the day today. You’d never let me fail, you’d always wish for me to stand, as that’s what you’d do. That’s what you’ve done, over all the years and abandoned fears held within. Your courage, that steadfast resolve, meant more to me than you will ‘never’ know.

I think of you. Often. Always. Forever, until there’s no-one, or nothing left, to remember you. There’s no doubt that I’ll see you again, one day, someday, with the moment of my own eyes closing for the last time, being the next time I smile. I’ll see your face, hold your hand and give you the biggest most amazing hug that I’ve saved.

I think of you, the same way that we all think about that loved one that’s no longer here. The person that’s loved us from the very second we appeared, until the moment we held your hand on that final day. Two times a day. Three. Maybe four. Possibly even ten times. Twenty, it matters not, as you’re always there. Each time I place a foot in front of my other foot, I think of you. It’s inevitable, it’s impossible not to do so, as I am, and always will be, made from you.

I think of you.

Monday, 30 September 2019

Paradise


Paradise, that indefinable place that’s different for all of us, is the worth to which we aspire and welcome. From the very moment we’re born, we’re shown the way of the world, the words to use, how to act and what to aspire for. It’s the knowledge, the wisdom, the desire and more, that’s bestowed upon us generation after generation.


For some, holding a hand can be the only paradise that they’ve secretly wished for, fought for, cried for and bled. Such a simple little gift, the smiles returned, the moments that burn, in our hearts and minds, as a reminder that the warmth of another can keep all of the fears, further tears, at bay until that final day.

For others, there’s the desire for wealth, that stealth to somehow be above the others that surround you each and every single day. It’s a silent desire, as no words need be spoken as you drive that extra special car, to that resort or place that overlook so very, very much. The fine wines, the grand designs, all there for the taking if the world would just give you, I, them and us, a simple easy chance.

For the many, or should I say the few, as we truly do not know, there’s another form of paradise. Silence. To hear no other voice within their mind, the pure ecstasy of silence. Pure, refined, the lifelong struggle to calm one’s inner self. The rampaging and ravaging words that seldom offer relief, the nasty, submergent, notion that some how you’re simply, easily, not that good enough. The air you breath, a gift, that you barely even register as you push your own head into the dirt of life.

For the global love within all of us, there’s the small patter of feet. The baby, or puppy and cat delight, filling our world with love’s abundant life.  Each throw of a ball, each nudge of a hair filled paw, or the laughter of a child’s heart can remind us that we’re not alone. No longer, no more, as we’re with a purpose and live forever more for that one ideal. It’s beautiful, it’s wondrous, living for another life upon this very world.

For me, at this very second, there would be no other greater paradise than every single person working together. I’d ask us all to forget the lines upon a map. To forget the wars, the arguments, the petty colour lines and the temperature of our skins, as that’s just one of those things that hasn’t changed since the dawn of humankind. I would strip the wealth from the world, the garments, the expensive jewels and abandon false idols. The solitary notion that, to advance, we’d have to work together, to improve, would be the only fashion to which I’d weave. I’d crush the combustion chambers to which we bind our lives, instead looking to the very sunshine that brightens our days and lips.

But that, above, is just a crazy notion of a paradise that can never, ever happen. Instead, as a fall back, I’ll just accept that the only paradise that I would achieve would be the hand of another upon mine. That’s achievable as, just in case we’re still not on the same page, it would take a worldwide catastrophe to change our ways and even then, it would be an impossibility. Paradise, for all of us, will have to wait until the very day we realise that our next lives, may not even exist. Heaven help paradise upon this very world as it will never, ever, arrive within my lifetime.

Sunday, 29 September 2019

Soulful


Lying upon the soft bed sheets, with the window open to the world outside, her thoughts simply kept on doing what they often did. Taunting her, annoying her, speaking words that simply tried to crush her dreams and ideals that she’d like to pursue. She didn’t wish to think this way, as she did truthfully believe in the word ‘fate’, the word that often seemed to ignore her just as her future was within her grasp.


Time. Again and again, that time had eluded her far too much. She’d often feel frustrated, annoyed, but that was like an old friend visiting to say hello once again. The familiar face, the same old same old, words or rhyme and idiotic reason coming together to keep her warm. She looked out into the dark sky, the half moon possibly asking for her thoughts to change, as her heart seemed to beat within her very ear. She consoled herself, reminded herself, that things could be far, far worse. She was warm, healthy, fed and living a reasonable life. She, of course, wanted more. A lot more. The sorrow, deep, expressive, once again pushed aside.

She would never say that she’d been deprived, as a youngster, as she didn’t know what she’d missed as it was never there. She simply wanted more, more love, more harmony and, just maybe, someone who actually adored her. She let out a small laugh as she reminded herself that her taste in men, would never quite manage to get to that ideal. Her platitudes tired her yet, right now, she could not sleep. She’d count sheep, but there were far too many beautiful stars to count. Her eyes became heavy, for a brief second, as her breathing slowed. She closed her eyes and, suddenly, felt the air brush past her body. She opened her eyes, as her shock flew to her heart, causing the beats to quicken as her mind caught up to the situation. Upon the balcony stood a man, with pure white wings.

She hunched herself into a ball against the headboard, as the spectre smiled. Unable to remove her gaze from his, she said nothing, remaining silent as he stepped into the room. He was, despite the fear, panic and possible threat, beautiful beyond compare. A statue of the perfect man made real, within her reach and bedroom. She controlled her mind, not quite understanding her raging, idiotic thoughts, as he stopped a few inches from her bed. She wanted to smile at him, maybe even run to the bathroom to check that she looked presentable, despite the situation, but that also defied belief.

He raised his hand in a calming gesture, as he spoke, “I’m not here to hurt you!” he said, with such a calm and comforting voice. His words were like the softest music playing within her ears, connecting to her heart and imagination. She bit the side of her lip, to see if she were sleeping, which only hurt. She’d watched enough films to realise that he must be having some type of effect over her body, as well as mind. She simply could not take her eyes away from him. Muscular, taut, the type of body that she’d only seen a few times, but never managed to get into her room to do all of those things she loved to do. A dream or not, she remained curled up, safe, hesitant to move. She’d scream, but the chances of anyone hearing her, were remote in such a location.

“What do you want?” she asked with fear, interest and confusion all mixed together. He did, after all, have wings straight from some type of science fiction film or a holy picture.

“Don’t you want more from your life? I could hear your thoughts from a thousand miles away!”

She nodded, once, no longer able to do anything more than listen to each and every single word being spoken. Influenced, inflicted and maybe mildly conflicted, she knew that she did want more from her life. It was obvious. Her day to day meanderings bored her, deadened her joy for the moments that she once found fulfilling. He continued to speak with that glorious voice of his,
“I can offer you everything you desire, give you that charisma, the drive, to seek out your given opportunities and become something more!”

Her mind started to somersault as images flooded her consciousness. The holidays, the cars, the moments and aspiration to be noticed by all, allowed her to lower her defences as she decided to no longer hide herself. She moved away from the headboard, slowly, resting upon her legs directly in front of him, looking into his glorious eyes. “Tell me more,” she asked, with an odd vibrant interest and glee she’d not felt for years.

“There are some people that are meant for more, to be liked more, loved more, with anyone else that has a different opinion being a jealous hater. You… are meant for more. Make the choice, change your life, make it so, and I will bestow upon you the confidence you need!”

Her smile grew, her soul literally warmed her chest, as butterflies appeared within her stomach. She’d pinch herself but, after biting her lip, it might not be the best decision. She nodded, hearing his words, accepting them, embracing them as her own, as she answered, “I accept your offer!” A part of her mind tried to scream in defiance but, as with many choices of desire, lust and life, it was now far too late.

“But you haven’t heard the price of such things?”

She shrugged her shoulders, knowing that she was, more or less, already dead inside. She had a thousand ways to find sanctuary, a better place, but knew that she’d ignore them all for that fast track ticket to the same destination.

“I don’t care!”

“Are you sure?  It’s your very soul!”

She laughed, wondering if she actually had such a thing, after the scenes that she’d witnessed through her life. She’d completely accepted, as she continued staring into his beautiful eyes, failing to notice his wings slowly changing colour.

“Is that all?” she asked with genuine interest, soulfully wondering if such a moment was real.

“Well,” he said, as he pulled at her lingerie strings, his dark black wings further enticing her,  “maybe one other thing!”

She smiled, she laughed, as she then pulled him on top of her as she felt his lips against hers. If a soul was the only reason to have the perfect life, then she’d gladly, openly, truthfully and forever more, give such a thing away.



Sunday, 22 September 2019

Hero


In this life, I do not ask for a great deal. I’m as honest as I can be and, at times, maybe even a bit too honest. I hurt, I bleed, I fall and struggle. But, no matter what happens, I still manage to stand. Always, forever and ever, until my very last breath. I know I can say too much, write even more, even say the wrong words at the right times, but my heart is and always will be, in the right place.


I ask not of you, what I can do myself, within reason. I’ll never be the beauty in this thing that we have. I’ll never own a smile as deep and rich as yours, that type of smile that warms my heart, removes any tears and, in those moments, raises a fire that even I never thought I could find. I’m an imperfect person, realising that I can nearly hold that perfection within my hand whenever you’re near.

I know, I know, major cheese filled words, as beautiful as they are. Maybe that’s why you’re with me, beside me, as that’s what we need more of in this silly mixed up world. That remix, of sorts, the day to day becoming more about the time together. I love you. Always have, even when I didn’t even know you existed. I believed. I knew. I damn well knew.

I recall that day when I heard you crying, about something that you thought was ever so silly. You’re human and, in that moment, I realised that there is pain behind those eyes of yours. We don’t get here without a few knocks and punches to the heart. Heck, that’s why I kiss you the way I do. I’m trying to get through to those scars, one simple little kiss at a time.

I’m here, you’re there, which means that I’m going to stand beside you for as long as I can. I’m not going to lie, to say forever, as that’s not very realistic. My forever may end tomorrow and, until then, I’ll do what I can.  Take that bullet for you. Pull you from a car crash. Hold your hand as the world falls around you. Dance, if you wish to laugh, hold you close, when you need to love and more. I’m not supposed to make you tremble, unless my name is upon your lips. I’m not supposed to make you cry, unless you’re saying, 'I do!'

In this life, I do not ask for anything from anyone. I’m as honest as I will be and, within moments, maybe not enough. I laugh, I smile, I fly and fight. But, no matter what happens, I still manage to love. Always, forever and ever, until my very last breath. I know I can say too much, write even more, even say the wrong words at the right times, but my heart is and always will be, in the right place.

However, if I were to ask one thing, as silly as it sounds, I just want one thing from you. I just, simply, wish to be your hero.

Click to Listen

Insatiable


She sat in her bedroom, her eyes closed and mind doing what it wished to do. She’d denied her instincts, as well as needs, for the longest time but enough was enough. That knack, that ever-present way of placing herself into the most idiotic situations imaginable, rearing its fine head once again.


That denial, the closed doors within her body that had started to give way to what she wanted, finally fading as that name appeared upon her lips. He knew her, knew her to a degree that annoyed and, at the same time, intrigued. They’d spoken for hours, his aloof way of doing things infuriating her desire to know more, far more, with that being the reason she’d wanted further time.

She’d drink him, envelop him within her, literally, if she could. No matter what was said, done or asked for, it was impossible to find that satisfaction she craved. The hunger rising within, embracing her to the point of near despair but, as he’d said, he wasn’t willing to give more than he could. That scent, the way he held her, be it her hand or her entire body, it mattered not as any contact was better than nothing.

She leaned back onto her hands, legs crossed as she sat on the floor, wondering what to do next. Each breath that escaped her lips, seemed to literally speak his name. It annoyed her, becoming each and nearly every thought within her day. She knew, deep down, that such a place could hardly ever be called healthy, but this was what it would be. Kissing, for hours, listening to his voice, whenever she could, enjoying that witty conversation that made her laugh to her very core. Dangerous, to a level that seemed to remove the boredom from her life, she’d honestly ask for nothing more than his company.

She smiled, a little wry and coy smile as she reminded herself that what she’d just thought, wasn’t really the truth. She’d ask for nothing more, until he’d used his body in ways that she’d longed for. She’d ask for nothing more, until he kissed the back of her neck whilst his hands did what they’d done on a few of the previous nights. She’d ask for nothing more, until he’d written his name over every single inch of her skin. Again and again. Over and over, until she’d finally broken her own resolve. She allowed this, all of it, every second and the waking moments of her life had roused the dead and long buried aspects of herself.

She’d often look towards the moonlight, letting light bathe her skin, wondering if it had anything to do with why he was within her life. Around her, holding her, asking her to become all that she could be. She’d smile, whenever he was near, laugh, giggle like a crazy fool, until the very moment he vanished again. It did hurt, the echo and ache of the space beside her, but this was the way of his world and she’d gladly forsake her calm.

She opened her eyes, looking out of the window, wondering what would happen next. If anything. She looked at his face, the covers barely covering his modesty as he slept. He was, to her, perfect. They all had their faults, the men of the world, but this one in particular did something to her thoughts which, in turn, carried her very body to another place. She glanced at his lips, reminding herself of that moment where… . She stopped. She couldn’t take this, she wouldn’t take this, as she moved from the floor to straddle him upon her own bed.

His eyes opened, the foggy sleep staying within his voice as he spoke, “You okay?”

She placed her lips next to his ear, whispering, as she moved herself over him. Teasing, enabling, the appetite starting to build within her. She, simply, did not wish to stop. She’d let her body and needs sleep for the longest time and now, right now, she’d had enough of that aspect of her daily life. No more. “I want you again!”

He smiled, knowing that he couldn’t and wouldn’t even try to stop her if, for some reason, her wish wasn’t his very command. He moved his lips to meet hers and, after kissing her a few times, simply uttered the word, “Insatiable!”


Thursday, 19 September 2019

Various 02

A selection of posts that didn't get finished or I didn't wish to generally post. Not proof read or corrected.
Tempt:
You see, to start, I’d like to apologise. I know that you’re not aware of what I’m about to apologise for, but in a way, I know that you do. We’re all aware, in our own way and worlds, so it’s about time that I let the world know the truth.

I’m me, always will be, almost wasn’t but that’s because I don’t mind changing; if it’s progressive positive change. That’s what it’s about. At all times. Mostly. I apologise, to you, personally and ethically, as I’m tempted by you. I know, I know, honesty can be alarming, refreshing, adopting and warming. It can also be very, very scary. Come on, admit it, the words are hardly a shock when you’re you and I’m the person called me.

How about you face some honesty within yourself, for a moment’s chance! Pass go, collect your pound of heart, go to my jail or simply land on a square. It’s your choice as, if we are being honest, it’s either all a game or something more. Serious, delirious, it doesn’t matter as this is what it’s all about. The world is full of people that may, or may not, like each other. To me it’s all about levels. You either get nothing, a charming smile and a conversation that I’d like to escape, some of me or, if you’re that three in a million, everything.


War:
“All I’m saying is that you have to eventually give in to what you want!” Dez stood there, defiant, speaking to Sam who usually remained quiet at such times. Shaking his head, turning to grab the ammo behind him for his belt, Dez continued, “What are we doing out here? Breaking skulls, riding the wave of shear madness? For what? You tell me Sam. You tell me!”

Sam, placing the knife into his boot’s holster, thought about Dez’s words. He spoke the truth. No man was, as Dez said many times, an island. Self-contained, self-serving and self-sufficient, while ignoring that thought knocking at the side of his mind. He was lonely, he was alone, despite the immense adrenaline filled day job that seemed to be consuming his every waking moment.


Key:

The Long version:
There are many keys within this world, to unlock the safe sitting over in the corner, behind the painting or cabinet. The shapes and sizes, the designs, all made to make opening such places a mystery to some. To others, that enjoy such things, there’s the mystery and knowledge of opening said safe. The mystery unfolds, the notches click, the noises creak, the wheel spins with each designated number.

Life can often resemble a safe, doors being locked, keys thrown away, moments placed hidden beyond reach and more.  If you really think about things, hold the thought within your mind, the hardest lock should always, always, be between the world and your heart. What lies beneath, the thoughts, the emotions, are often tender, hurt, scared from the years of pain and tears. It’s no wonder that many people quickly close their hearts. There’s fear, there’s rejection, there’s the above pain and far, far more.

It’s horrendous, it’s tragic, that others often bare their heart wide open, for all to see. I say tragic as that’s where the most damage is caused. We all need a key, we all need that lock to protect ourselves but how far should we go? Do we reach forward, with caring arms to embrace, while holding everything back, or do we try to simply take each day as it arrives. Only you, or I, can decide.

For me, I’m hesitant, wary, wondering what and where the moments will take me. I’m not quick to love, neither quick to admit that I do, but by the heavens above I’m quick to hold. I’m vulnerable, I’m easily hurt, but quick to recover. I should have a key, but that’s neither here, there, or important. You, however, are obviously important to me.

We reach forward with wide-eyed optimism, heart wishing to smash through the iron bars partially raised to protect ourselves. I can appreciate that; completely, partly, mostly, maybe even maybe. We’re all different, despite all being hurt, or feeling pain and anguish. We’re human, expressing most thoughts with such freedom.

What I’m trying to say, while ensuring I spend as much time as possible adding more and more words, is that I like you. I appreciate you. You have a very busy life. You’re dedicated and I respect that. Admire what you’re doing and have done in life. You’re a Mother, a hard working individual that deserves only the respect that she’s earned over the many, many years. You’re a woman, feisty, beautifully sculpted, eyes of fire and lips of sin. You’re what a Man rarely even knows he should adore.

With all of the words above, no matter what’s written, said, done previously, I do, honestly, want the key to your heart. It’s a precious and tender gift. It’s something to treasure and protect with all of my energy and strength.

The short version:
Take me upstairs and let me... . We’ll bond and, eventually over the weeks, fall in love. Done.


They:
They say, those people, the ones that like to fade into the background. Ever present, ever scolding, the snide remarks and side glances. They’re amongst you, the I, the me and you within our lives. Evade them, ignore them, if you can and when you see fit.

They say that everything should be taken with moderation. Then why love without fear, or hesitation? Should we listen to the baffling dreams and normality of the many designed to silence the few stars amongst us? I say no, never, ever forever, the moderation of our lives be damned and forgotten.
They say, that it’s the punch you don’t see, that knocks you out. I beg to differ as I cry you that deep river, as the punches could be staring you in the eyes and yet, despite this, they still destroy you.


Random:
There are many, many ways to live your life, with angst, anger, the negative views being explored by many and more. We choose, each day, in each way, to live our lives the way we wish to do so. Some explore, some develop, with most stuck within the transitory space of the day to day. It’s what we do. It’s what we know.

There are many people that heal, that actively find the path of freedom, the rhythm of their own lives becoming an essential part of their growth and status. They’re the special ones, the peacekeepers, the serene few, that only wish the best for you and me. I’ve known them, even embraced them, only to let them float away as my own consciousness broke in two.

It’s a tragic world, a suffering world, where the memories haunt and the words repeat. Again and again, each day, each morning, the noon, as well as the night, we pierce our own hearts with the words we really should leave behind. The past, the future, both objects of desire, betrayal and longing. Apologise to the universe, say the words out aloud, hoping that the words reach their intended destination. Find peace.

Find… love. It’s the most important feeling within our single, solitary, momentary lives.


Candle:
I can feel the heat, around me, holding me, taking care of the mental bruises exposed from the recent events. Each moment, each word, held together with the thought of seeing you again. I know it’s idiotic, almost senile, that I think the way I do. You cannot hold me, expose me, or stop the coming days and thoughts. It’s life, it’s present, the seconds that threaten my very sanity.

I have cried. I have shed those tears, in private, on the subway train, while walking and right next to your arms. Life bores me, ignores me, as I bathe within everything you are. Maybe I’m not normal, possibly forgetting that you still hold a part of me against those lips of yours.

I gave far too much. The usual and typical story of the modern day. I craved you, desired you, wanted to have you in so many ways and, upon the day that you finally let me indulge you with my fantasies, it was almost as if you knew exactly what I wanted. I remove the word ‘wanted’, replacing it with ‘needed’.

It has been fifty nights since we last met, to exchange those heavy kisses that you pressed against my body. You thirsted, you excelled, and I matched your desire with ease. You asked me, you begged me, to express myself so many, many times, with my smile acknowledging your wishes. We moved together like we were dancing within the soft sheets. But fifty nights, apart, abandoned, has damaged my very understanding of your words.

We spoke, we expressed, we exhaled all of our darkest, deepest wants from each other. The simplicity of words, the honesty of basic desire, all brought together as we did the very things that came naturally. Your skin, against mine, holding me, guiding my arms around you


Cured:
Standing there, admiring, watching her, he viewed the way she moved and looked. She was splendour itself, that magnificent crescendo that filled his heart, body and mind with such tremendous thoughts. Then, of course, there were the feelings. Those riotous moments, where he could swear that he could so easily lose control. He was, above all, her man.

He didn’t truly care about the day to day, the sustaining glass houses that they all lived within, as she was absolutely everything. His focus. His worth. He could, possibly, find another, ten others, a hundred more, but there would be no use to such things as she just knew what to say. How to say it. With a smile, with savage eyes, a just tongue, or even just a silent look. She was, to him, the half of a complete world.

She was standing just across the street from where he stood, looking through a shop window, minding her own business waiting. Waiting for him. He wasn’t late, as he wouldn’t do such a thing, but arriving early afforded him a chance to see her in a different light. Beautiful, serene, the power within hidden for none to see. He knew her, wanted to know more, with each day bringing forward a new reason to smile.

The years had flown, moved away with the clouds of time. They’d flourished, learnt from each other, enjoyed each other and, above that, simply helped each other. The kind words, the expectations seldom appearing, the respect flourishing and more.

She was wearing a dress, not too tight, above the knee with sandals. Apparently, to his delight, this was the current fashion trend of the current year, month and possibly day. She had that vibrant flair for her clothes, matching, with his ever-approving gaze. He’d even, at times, offer positive suggestions for that ever important three colour rule. He got it. He understood these things, as much as he could.

Monday, 16 September 2019

Mindful


I’m aware, fully, independently, soulfully aware of what’s happening around me and within. It’s a stark contrast to the calm, serenity filled existence, that I’m used to. No issues, no paths needing to be followed and no quandaries to explore. Free, fulfilled and nothing much more.


Then there’s you. Just you. All you. Everything about you. I just want to ignore all of it, everything, every single little nuance of who and what you are. You’re that button that begs to be pressed, you’re the thought that lingers after exclaiming my ignorance. You’re the disorder within my very, eloquently, decisive structure and routine.

There’s a moment, the realisation, when and where you realise that you have a tight grip upon your emotions. That sterile subconscious that’s suddenly and irrevocably level. The balance within all things. The moment of moments. The pacification of a lifetimes struggle. I’m there, been there, returned there and more. Through that, experiencing that, means you’re more than aware of your surroundings.

I mention the word surroundings, like it’s some kind of special gift, but all I see is the solitary wisps of you within my mind. I want to look away, look out into the world, but I’m becoming trapped in an unravelling travesty of indulgence and dreams.  There’s something happening and, truth be told, I don’t wish for it to stop.

Maybe I should focus, force this into the world, face and view the moments head on. I’m not one to run away, from anything, despite hiding on occasions as I wait for my thoughts to procure the needed strategy. Often, or not, it’s then too late but at least I found the way. That path. This, on the other hand, is not a path. It’s all about you and you.

Swept away, the sea defences raised so very, very high, yet nothing can stop whatever it is that we’ve started. I’ve felt and thought you next to me, upon me, around me and more. We’ve broken the envelope that holds the story to a thousand events. It’s wrong, but right. It’s dark, it’s grey, it’s whiter than white with all of the other colours about to get into this very crazy mix.

I could say one word, ten words, or even write this, but it’ll never be enough as words simply will not do. I don’t want to speak, right now, as I’m aware and I’m realising that I’m losing something of myself. The therapeutic fear of falling for another. The imaginary meditative state we can reach. It’s all there. It’s all in the moment.

I’m not sure what could happen, or will happen, if I seemingly let myself float away into this space. The unknown, the known, both at the same time, the same old same new, appearing in front of my very eyes.

I’m aware, fully, independently, soulfully aware of what’s happening around me and within. It’s a stark contrast to the calm, serenity filled existence, that I’m used to. No issues, no paths needing to be followed and no quandaries to explore. Free, fulfilled and nothing much more. This is all a make-believe moment, just in case, imagining what it would feel like to fall for someone. Ever mindful, of what might one day, actually be.

Saturday, 14 September 2019

Moon


Ezrielle curled his fingers around the thick brutal chains, as he smiled at her. He was strong, very, very strong, but maybe this time she’d manage to contain him. Control him. Keep him at bay long enough for the current events to expire.


Wishful thinking, the notion of control possibly proving to be her ignorance in place. Naivety at play, the previous events escaping her mindful thoughts, or just her way of playing those sweet vicarious games of hers. He liked them. All of them, no matter the moment, circumstance or notion. He’d play them all, with vigour, expectancy and far, far more.

His fingers grasped the chain hooks, bolted to the floor, the two inches of pure steel and concrete keeping him at bay. Tightening, she watched as his arms tensed, along with every single muscle across his lascivious frame. She’d possibly find his perfect body disgusting, if it were not for her entire body screaming for his attention. She needed him, all over her soul, body and mind, which is why she did what she did. She hated his control of her, despised wishing for his kisses, his attentive nature calling to her in the middle of each night. She’d wake, yearn, ask and surely, receive.

She laughed at him, as he tried to stand, tensing and exerting nearly every ounce of energy he had within his veins. He closed his eyes, pulling at the chains, trying, calling upon his strength to do what it often did. Impress. Normally he’d never care for such things, but she seemed to enjoy his feats of endurance, especially where it counted and, surely, she counted. Insatiable, undeniably demanding, her ravenous instincts breaking through any intentional defences he presented.

That weakness, deep within, needing her more than he’d like to admit. The bonding of both for eternity, the awakening of an eternal connection shared between the rarest of two. He’d walk away from her, forsake her demands, yet he knew that he’d struggle to find another that seemed to light his internal spark. Scorching, burning at his very thoughts, he’d realised many eons previous that he could never leave. His arch enemy, his arc of truth returning to the indefinable conclusion, that no two could ever fuck the way they did.

There was more between them, between the laughter and fornication, an unspoken bond that neither would acknowledge. He’d seen this, witnessed his thoughts upon that singular day that he thought he’d lost her forever. It shook him, woke him from a certain aspect of his born ignorance, never to ever be forgotten. He'd once spent years wandering the deserts of this world, the solitary exclusion surrounding him, embracing him, only to find that his thirst could never be quenched without her lips poured over his.

She laughed at him, again scorning his actions, as he failed to break his given bonds. He smiled, for a brief second, as he laughed a realising acknowledgement. This would not do. He would never be beaten, never caged, pushed to the floor by this very means. Forcing his pride down into the depths of his soul, he reached his anger, for his lust and desire, that smouldering aggressive nature of man. He held it close to his thoughts, allowing them into his very blood and soul.

He opened his eyes, his head bowed ever so slightly, as his mood changed from playful to power defined direction. He would have her, today, tonight, in the next few moments. She knew what was about to happen, her mind informing her body to prepare itself for the next few hours. He would not stop until he had satisfied every single inch of her. He didn’t care about himself, in that way, as this was his mission in her life.

He again grabbed the chains, bending over slightly as he bent his knees. The full force of his legs, the entire range of his back muscles providing support, as he engaged the very core of his emotions. Strength was nothing, without the reason behind the purpose. He felt his passion, his need, his very reason for being and pushed upwards with his legs. Arms, holding on with all of their internal limits, as a second moved away with the sands of time. The chain linkages snapped, releasing him from his bonds. He stood there, in all his gloriously formed stature, looking directly at her. She smiled, then giggled, waiting for her prized possession to thank her for his latest game. After all, at moments like this, the monster within him came out to play with the roaring full moon.


Monday, 9 September 2019

Spiral


Each step, each lumberingly laborious step, loomed ahead of her within the spiral. It had been a few months, weeks, with moments of joy filling her life in a way she thought she’d never experience. She’d smile. She truly would, if it weren’t for the damn stairs ahead of her. Sure, yes, of course, it was keeping her fit and lively, but that wasn’t the point. If there were a lift, she’d take that instead.


At times, on a good day, a very, very good day, she’d jog up the stairs but today was not one of those days. It was one of ‘those’ days. The weight of the world arrived, to her mind, the moment she had opened her burdened eyes. Nothing in particular weighted her thoughts, just the usual, the ever so often notion that staying within the soft sheets and escaping life would be easier. Facing life. Embracing life. Realising that things could be amazing, could be effortless. If only; if that ‘only’ moment roused her thoughts into believing. Anxious, heavy, wooden thoughts betraying her. She just didn’t want to move.

The basis of all things, her ever present thought, of simply not being good enough. Her alarm had spoken to her, after the third snooze, reminding her that there actually was a place that needed her. Wanted her. Called to her through all of the doubt and upturned smiles. He wasn’t a rescue, nobody would be, but for the briefest time she actually smiled, forgetting the thoughts, flying without the constant need and reminder of becoming grounded. It was beauty itself, the grace to which she inspired, to see her own face glow with a glorious smile. For that moment.

Each step, higher than the last, each step a push forward. She stopped, placing her hand upon the rail to her side, puffing air from her lungs as she grasped at her breathing. That momentary lapse in effort as she allowed her body to catch up and recover. It was early, far, far too early, but she had been given the suggestion and accepted in a moment of madness. No make-up, scruffs, just herself, her torturing thoughts and not much else. This is what he had asked for and, against ever single screaming thought within her mind, this would be what he would get.

The questions and taunts appeared within her mind, as she continued up the spiral. She’d found herself, figuratively, metaphorically and emotionally, at the bottom of many spirals. She’d climb from them, reach up from the bottom of whatever moment she found herself within, many, many times and would continue to do so. Through great fear, or so she’d read, could rise the most impressive willpower imaginable. Facing her own fears, her own thoughts each and every single day, meant that she could barely run, let alone hide, from each and every single one of them.

She wasn’t good enough, wouldn’t and couldn’t accomplish this, or maybe that, despite doing so against all of her odds. She’d see people flying so very, very high, despite having to be grounded and attached to her breathing patterns at all times. The momentary flairs, where she’d simply wished to run and escape, haunted her and pushed her to the ground. She denied it all, of course, as the desire to function the same as the people standing beside her, overruled the great big monster within the room of her mind. Haunted, exasperated, the darkness still calling for her at every single turn.

Another step, another moment closer to the door that held so much for her. She’d push him away, if it were not for the way she felt about him. She, again, reminded herself that he was not her rescue, a saviour of sorts, but a safe haven to relax and let her inner self express. The thoughts seemed to dissolve when he held her hand. He, as much as he said he did, seemed to marginally understand. He wasn’t the type to just say that he did, as he was not living within her thoughts, experiencing them, pushing them away when even picking an outfit filled her full of dread.

The last step, the spiral behind her for another day, gone and thankfully forgotten. She stood in front of the door, that fabulous door, the door that allowed her freedom of thought and expression. No judgement, no repercussions, only the odd look when he seemed to know what she was thinking. He had taught her one thing, amongst others, that her first thought or decision to a question would usually be the correct answer. All that followed was doubt, questioning, denial, fruitless and best avoided. The slow thinking versus the fast thinking of life. That thought, after realising that everyone did the same thing, opened her eyes a little. She’d denied her thoughts as much as possible. Her first decision, to any question, would be her guide and that’s why, right now, she was standing in front of his door looking like a hedge had managed to prepare her hair, face and clothes for the day.

She gently knocked on the door, her usual way of saying hello despite standing outside many a door for longer than necessary. She did not like loud noises and, due to this, she also didn’t wish to create them. The door opened, as it had done many times previous, as her view was filled with his smile. Those eyes of his, seemed to do something to her, in a way that she didn’t wish to ever change. They saw her, really, really looked into her while so many, many people looked through her. For once, that glimmer of hope residing within, that spark alight, she actually believed that he wanted to be with her.

“Hello,” he said with his usual warm voice, “Come in, everything’s ready!”

She smiled, stepping forward, not having any idea of what was about to happen. The apartment was beautiful, the d├ęcor quaint yet stylish, lived in and arranged for relaxation. Whenever she walked into the room the feeling of calm flowed over, which was a stark contrast to the icy feeling of her apartment.

“How are you?” he asked with that damn smile still upon his face.

“I’m fine!” she replied, knowing that she wasn’t fine, as her thought bounced around within her mind. She looked terrible, her hair wasn’t arranged as she’d like, her clothes a mess, her mood swinging from happy, to scared, to running away after throwing his potted plant through the window. She was, if she were honest with herself, a complete mess of contradictions. She felt her hands start to shake, as her thoughts simply destroyed any beauty that was within her reach.

He stepped forward, holding her hand, as his other hand moved around to her back as it pressed her against him. “I know that you’re not fine, which is perfectly fine, as you’ve arrived here as instructed, yet you still look amazing!”

She laughed. She didn’t look amazing, yet he seemed to see through all of that and insist that she was. The darkness, surrounding her, made her own smile escape her lips.

“Hey,” he said knowing exactly what was happening, “No words!”

She looked up into his eyes, wondering what was happening, as he kissed her. Slowly, very slowly, as he removed her jacket and started to unbutton her blouse. She looked at him as the kiss ended, her body racing, her heart becoming alive within the moment. The blouse fell to the floor, as he bent down, removing her shoes and socks. Returning to her view, looking deeply into her eyes, with that damn smile of his still doing what it did, he unbuckled her belt, undid the buttons on her jeans and slowly, with a little bit of effort, jostled them away from her. Stepping away from her clothes, he reached around and separated the clasps of  her bra with one hand and then, just then, removed the last remaining garment.

Naked. Completely naked, standing in his room, her mind suddenly vacant of thought as her breath explained the warmth escaping from her body. From only just managing to escape her bed, the grounding of her thoughts becoming her only concern, to dragging herself here, for this moment and notion. It all seemed a bizarre and crazy series of events. Her belief in herself, something of an enigma, yet she could stand here, in front of this man, completely naked and vulnerable. None of it made sense, with all of it real and so very, very beautiful.

In one swift moment he cradled her within his arms, her legs over his right arm and her back held with his left. He carried her, across the room, towards the pre-prepared bath. Slowly, gently, he lowered her in. The bubbles, surrounding her, the aroma of freshness embracing her, as she just kept her eyes upon his. She watched as he removed his dressing gown, his taut figure greeting her as she gloriously viewed everything he had to offer. She’d laugh, or even giggle, instead choosing to keep her delight a secret. For now.

Stepping into the bath, lowering himself, their legs finding their place, he motioned for her to turn around to rest upon his chest. She turned, feeling his arms wrap themselves around her, holding her, greeting her in the way that they should always greet.

“If you’re feeling brave, tell me everything about the spirals that you face, each and every single day!”

She smiled, knowing, realising, that this was a safe place, would always be a safe place, with a person that understood. He realised that some struggled with the smallest things, the moments of life, the words that needed to be found.  But no matter what she thought, irregardless of the struggles, no matter how she managed to stay grounded, she’d gladly fall into a spiral as wonderful as this moment.




Thursday, 29 August 2019

Sin


She crossed her legs, becoming comfortable whilst sitting outside the French riviera. Calm, finding the place where she relaxed her body, as well as trying to relax that mind of hers. The thoughts, invading her, enveloping, consistently trying to find a weakness to exploit. That type of thinking didn’t matter to her, not anymore. She’d found a release, a sin of sins to explore. It kept her up at night, at times, while also keeping her thoughts constantly filled. He, him, that person sitting across from her busy reading the local paper, made her needed sins reality.


Excitement, his smile encompassing the very word, the very notion of being completely, utterly and absolutely devoured in every single way. Yet, at no point, would she ever deny any of the moments they’d shared. He’d appeared from nowhere which, to her, baffled her structured, whilst cluttered way of thinking and living. She fought herself, at times, finding any source of shallow negativity to cling to, to embrace, yet the sins upon her skin had spoken a legion of words within.

He was all of her sins, made manifest, from all of the nights, those lonely curled up and cold nights. All of the sins she needed to commit with someone, all of the times she desired someone to be within her, wrapped around her, having her, taking her, freeing her from the everyday boredom of life, drama and idiocy; made real.

She just wanted to feel that sin. She wanted to feel so alive, like she could let go, lower her guard, let someone in to do whatever they wanted to do. If, the next day, they were still beside her. As long as there was that little bit more, she didn’t care what sin was performed upon her body. If they wanted that little bit more, listened to her, held her hand, walked beside her, she didn’t care what happened in private. She was open, freely willing to do every… single… little… thing.

She didn’t mind the bruises, on her arms, or legs, as that was what he was. A whirlwind, a cacophony of absolute lust, desire and need. Again, that did not bother her, as whilst he was being a whirlwind, she was simply being swept away with the moment and then, from nowhere, he would calm. He would be so sensitive, touching her like she’d never been touched before, holding her in such a way that ensured she felt cared for, loved and more than desired.  Then, he would rise again, to literally envelop and encompass every single part of her.

He was a man, she was a woman, and he did not mean to hurt her, at all, but his fuelled moments made her shake, feel, her need sending butterflies to her stomach. She was wanted. He wanted to hold her and never let go, when he reached that point. He didn’t want to stop, never stop, and she didn’t wish for him to stop. Besides, she’d given him a few bruises, whilst on top, feeling, expressing, also not willing to let go of the moment. She even, once, nearly broke one of his fingers. Even though the pain echoed through the room, in that moment, neither stopped, neither giving in to the pain, because when it’s that intense, she simply did not wish to cease the moment.

His sin became hers. She knew that he’d had a colourful life, filled with pleasure and that pain spilling from within him at random moments, but that made his mystery seem all the more sensual. Each word, from his lips, called to her, especially when he whispered his sinful words at the most inappropriate times. He just knew everything about her. Reading each look upon her face, knowing exactly what she wanted, when she wanted. He seemed to have a sixth sinful sense that drove her crazy. She’d never known anyone to use their lips, the way he did.  Vocally, seductively, emotionally and provocatively. His damn sin, being spoken and written upon her delicate skin, as her cheeks felt flush with her rampaging thoughts.

He looked up, from the newspaper, with those dark eyes of his. Her body, her gloriously worshipped body, felt his eyes upon her as she witnessed his sin wash over her. She would never, ever, have this any other way. She would sin all day, all night, repeating that sin until she could hardly breath, as a world without sin, would literally be a sin made real.

Wednesday, 28 August 2019

Worthy


Jacob looked through the glass casing, wide eyed, full of wonder and intrigue. Eventually, one day within his future, the Crown of Crowns would be his and his alone. The majestic ideals of a mere child, with the excitement and honest innocence shining through his wondrous smile. His nose, being as naughty as it usually was, ever so slightly pressed against the glass. His eyes filled themselves with the view of the diamonds, spread across the golden surface. Magical.


Stepping back, ever so slightly, his inquisitive nature got the better of him as he asked the same question, he’d been asking for the last few weeks, “When will this be mine?” The guards, usually silent, carried on with their duties of standing very, very still, until, from the corridor, appeared his Uncle. Jacob adored his Uncle, the mystery of every single conversation, forcing his young mind to think of moments he might not have considered.

“Master Jacob, on this very day, I can finally answer your question. That is, of course, if you can answer mine?”

Jacob, throwing his arms around his Uncle, beamed from ear to ear as his imagination jumped into thinking mode. He loved the tasks that Uncle brought to his eyes and ears. He’d learned archery, staff fighting, sword play and more, whilst being mentally challenged by his Uncle’s wisdom of life. Each task, each moment, a chance to learn and explore, to acknowledge that any physical training required more than action, but thought as well.

“Uncle, what is the question?” asked Jacob, his small heart beating within his chest as he wondered. He, after all, adored the Crown or Crowns and wished to accept the gift without delay.

“My sweet Jacob, my ever-wondering Jacob. Are you worthy of such a gift? The Crown of Crowns?”

Jacob bounced from foot to foot, his innocence being of a boy that had not yet seen the world for what ii truly could be, which Uncle adored and loved. Uncle, of course, had been given the task of slowly bringing Jacob into the world, teaching him, guiding him, to ensure that he reached his teenage years with wisdom as well as the obvious wealth. Money meant nothing, to a man such as Uncle, without the knowledge and wisdom of what to do with such monies.

“Of course I am Uncle, it’s destined to be mine?”

Uncle shook his head, smiling as he did so. Kneeling, his face the same level as Jacob’s, he knew that the first answer would not be the correct answer. Power, in any shape or form, was a precious and dangerous force to hold within any person’s world.

“My Dear Boy, that is not the correct answer. Come back tomorrow. No words, right now, leave, think, return tomorrow at this time and you shall answer the question again!”

Jacob, with a fading smile, wished to say so many things, provide all of the cascading reasons as to why he felt that he gave the correct answer but, instead, he simply did as requested. This moment, his Uncle’s words, were to be held close to his thoughts. Any person could fire an arrow, aim to release the wooden artefact to bestow a consequence upon another, but the reason behind firing the arrow, was all that counted in the scheme of all great things.

Uncle watched as Jacob slowly, ploddingly, walked from the room. “The wonder of innocence” he said, being whispered under his breath.


The next day, Uncle waited, standing next to the Crown of Crowns. It’s elegance, understated, regal, filling his eyes with pride and fortitude. The grace at which a king wore such artefacts, had always filled him with pride. The splendour and magnificence of it all, enamoured him in ways that he may never understand. From around the corner, Jacob appeared, running with glee and certainty, “Uncle, Uncle, I think I have the answer!”

“Calm yourself Boy, relax your breathing and in your own time, clearly state which you wish to say!”

Jacob calmed himself, closing his eyes as he slowly breathed in through his nose, then out of his mouth. He could feel his heart, bashing against his chest, start to calm and relax. He opened his eyes and, slowly, started to speak.

“Uncle, maybe I’m not worthy of the Crown of Crowns. I am not. But I would accept such a gift without question!”

Uncle shook his head, smiling as he did so, “Return again tomorrow, young Man.”

Jacob looked thoroughly confused, almost annoyed, his mild anxiety appearing across his face. He, again, stilted his tongue with respect for his Uncle’s words. He’d thought about his answer for hours and hours. Barely sleeping, wondering and wishing for the correct answer to appear. Once again, despite his efforts, his gift was refused. Turning, slowly, he once again begrudgingly walked from the room.


The next day appeared, the hands of time reaching the desired moment, with Uncle once again standing in the very same spot. Today, he understood, would be a day of days. Uncle knew that Jacob had a keen mind, a solid mind, for such a youngster within a court of jesters, schemers and play artists. Jacob would be all he could be, one day, a day upon a calendar that would soon arrive.

Jacob appeared, again, walking hesitantly around the same corner. Uncle’s head tilted to the side, ever so slightly, as he wondered what was happening within this young man’s mind. It wasn’t often that he’d seen Jacob like this. Reflective, stilted, not quite sure of himself. Either way, the conclusion would soon appear.

“How are you today, Jacob?” Uncle asked with care.

“I am okay Uncle.” Replied Jacob.

“Do you have a suitable answer for me?”

“I do uncle, I do!”

“Then let’s hear it boy, time waits and awaits our decisions.”

Jacob bit his lip, as he looked down at the floor, starting to slowly speak. Uncle could tell that Jacob didn’t like the answer to which he had found but, thankfully, Jacob accepted the truth of such things.

“I am neither worthy, or unworthy, of such a Crown of Crowns. Gifts are given, accepted and appreciated. Especially one as precious as this.”

Uncle smiled a deep, caring smile, the lines upon his face showing his love and appreciation for such an honest and down to earth answer.

“Correct, my boy. None of us are worthy of such a gift, be it love from another, or a Crown of Crowns. To think that we are worthy of anything, is but folly filled with vacant grace. We must earn such things. We must earn the love of others. The Crown of Crowns signifies that you will be loved, such is a ring of marriage, but before you can truly appreciate such moments, each of us must prove ourselves to be worthy!”

Jacob smiled, as he’d finally found the answer, with Uncle’s words resounding within his heart and mind. “Will I ever be worthy of Love, Uncle?”

“My boy, we are worthy of our own love and, through the grace of actions and deeds, we may all one day be worthy, of the love of others. This, and only this, will keep you grounded. Earn, respect, appreciate and listen. This is the path to love. This is the path to being worthy, of the Crown of Crowns!”

Jacob jumped up and down, twice, his excitement once again getting the better of him.

“I shall try to be the best person I can be, Uncle, I shall listen, just as I listen to you!”

Uncle nodded, “Jacob… be worthy my Son, know your worth and be worthy!”