I hear it in my ears. They're coming for me. I know what they want already. They want my mind. My one true possession and they wish to steal it from me.
Hunters hunt for whatever they can find, but warriors seek out a specific target. They search and destroy. This little boy stands alone frightened. Panicking. But this boy is smart, he knows he needs to pull himself together if he is going to survive. But he's distracted, the wind smashes at his ears, the rain pounds his body, and time rips away his chances.
He gathers himself, but the noises get louder, distracting him more, until he finally breaks into a run. Branches lash against his face, and the mud from the ground flicks up his back. He takes a right deeper into the darkness. There is a moment of silence as he stops, just a moment. His head is clear. But then he is very aware of the fact that he is being followed and he begins to run once more. He runs faster, but he is small so he tires quickly.
Once more he stopped before they got him. They held him for a while. They nearly destroyed him but the boy was strong and prevailed. The sad thing was, was that he was so close to getting out of the woods when they caught him, if he fought through the brambles just a bit harder he would have made it out into the air. Oh, how fresh that air is. Not polluted with the yellow stink of musky roots filling these rows of giants. The air is what choked him down, it made him weaker. That's how they found him.
I continue to run now, I know how to get out. I know how fast these warriors are. I know how long it will take me to be free from this yellowing mist into the white breezes of 1865. What I find now, is that they may catch up with me before I make it. So I have to run faster, work harder, in order that I may escape this oppression before it takes me further down the rabbit whole. I seek the world of white opulence, and that is what I shall get.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
As It Unfolds
Silence falls among the young as he surveys this tight line choosing his next victim. His boots thud against the hard ground and his belt knocks against his trouser button. Sweat drips from the head of one child, his palms become clammy as the nerves take over him. He moves to him, grinning, he asked if the child is scared. A faint whimper escapes his lips as he tremors in the presence of this overwhelming figure. He looks past this troubled child and nods his head. The whimpers grow stronger and louder, he is grabbed from behind by two men and dragged away. The line of boys do not seem fazed by this act, and continue to stare ahead obediently.
We, as observers, wish to know what holds them there. What pure form of fear keeps their feet rooted to this dusty ground? They are not afraid, he tells us, as if he can hear our inquisitive thoughts. He comments that they are merely obedient to the cause, his cause. Their purpose in life is to be chosen, supposedly, and he is the judge of these young mouldable creatures. How many more will buckle?
I tell you this as I see it. I am not corrupt with emotion. None of us are. We are very true objective spectators retelling what we have seen simply to tell is. The man to my left has a face as hard as stone, unchanging, unmovable. And the man to my right now stands opposite a boy who begins to look down at his bare, naked and dirty feet.
He is taken too by a nod.
The man to my right continues his work. I have seen him walk the line before. He never grows impatient, he will take as long as the situation needs to find a pure one. The purpose of this scene must not be divulged to those in the public. The purpose of this scene can only be known by few. They know, but only for a split second, by the time they have been dragged away they can no longer remember their plight of selection. The boy not chosen will continue on with his life, unaware of this ritual.
It was a surreal image for me the first time I saw it. I looked down the line at those seemingly fearless faces, knowing one will crack soon enough. They all seemed so willing to partake in a life they did not fully understand. It seemed like madness at first. But it was because of this questioning and wondering that I was chosen. My inquisitive nature, pure through lack of emotion, was just what they needed.
I have seen this scene thousands of times now. The ethical questions raised about what we do can indeed be asked worriedly. But we do this because we are aware of the consequences that no ethical problems can overcome. A life with us is a high life. You could barely fathom such a life with us. Sure they try and stop us, who wouldn't? But what they don't know is that we need to be tried if we are to succeed. It is our gateway and the obstacles raised in our way are what lead us to this mighty seat.
He moved into a little boy who smiles. He smiled. We leaned forward, every single one of us. What was he doing? He stood back carefully. He nodded for a third time, but they were unwilling to approach. He smiled at this child. He turned to us and walked back to my side. The moment had past. The right was back where he should be, and this boy had now been chosen. The others will go unneeded. Now I await when this ceremony is repeated after another century, when this little boy shall stand to my left, the man at my left will be at my right, and he at the right shall be right where I am now. The others will look upon me, I shall look upon the line, and the children will look upon their future.
We, as observers, wish to know what holds them there. What pure form of fear keeps their feet rooted to this dusty ground? They are not afraid, he tells us, as if he can hear our inquisitive thoughts. He comments that they are merely obedient to the cause, his cause. Their purpose in life is to be chosen, supposedly, and he is the judge of these young mouldable creatures. How many more will buckle?
I tell you this as I see it. I am not corrupt with emotion. None of us are. We are very true objective spectators retelling what we have seen simply to tell is. The man to my left has a face as hard as stone, unchanging, unmovable. And the man to my right now stands opposite a boy who begins to look down at his bare, naked and dirty feet.
He is taken too by a nod.
The man to my right continues his work. I have seen him walk the line before. He never grows impatient, he will take as long as the situation needs to find a pure one. The purpose of this scene must not be divulged to those in the public. The purpose of this scene can only be known by few. They know, but only for a split second, by the time they have been dragged away they can no longer remember their plight of selection. The boy not chosen will continue on with his life, unaware of this ritual.
It was a surreal image for me the first time I saw it. I looked down the line at those seemingly fearless faces, knowing one will crack soon enough. They all seemed so willing to partake in a life they did not fully understand. It seemed like madness at first. But it was because of this questioning and wondering that I was chosen. My inquisitive nature, pure through lack of emotion, was just what they needed.
I have seen this scene thousands of times now. The ethical questions raised about what we do can indeed be asked worriedly. But we do this because we are aware of the consequences that no ethical problems can overcome. A life with us is a high life. You could barely fathom such a life with us. Sure they try and stop us, who wouldn't? But what they don't know is that we need to be tried if we are to succeed. It is our gateway and the obstacles raised in our way are what lead us to this mighty seat.
He moved into a little boy who smiles. He smiled. We leaned forward, every single one of us. What was he doing? He stood back carefully. He nodded for a third time, but they were unwilling to approach. He smiled at this child. He turned to us and walked back to my side. The moment had past. The right was back where he should be, and this boy had now been chosen. The others will go unneeded. Now I await when this ceremony is repeated after another century, when this little boy shall stand to my left, the man at my left will be at my right, and he at the right shall be right where I am now. The others will look upon me, I shall look upon the line, and the children will look upon their future.
Sunday, May 01, 2011
Racing Days
I wish the Horse and his Boy had an easy choice. But they don't.
Whichever situation they chose will leave them disappointed. Nothing can satisfy them.
Some look upon them and suggest the two will be lonely forever. They say they will never part.
I think the Boy has made his choice.
Whichever situation they chose will leave them disappointed. Nothing can satisfy them.
Some look upon them and suggest the two will be lonely forever. They say they will never part.
I think the Boy has made his choice.
Knackers Yard
If the Horse was old and decrepit then the Boy would have to make the decision to send the Horse away. In the long term this would benefit the Horse because he would be in pain no more and the Boy would know it would be for the best, but in the short term keeping the Horse would be more beneficial to the Boy because he would be able to make more memories until the Horse was gone.
The Boy does not think that the Horse will be happy in the long term if he is sent to the Girl. Maybe in the short term the Horse will experience some euphoria as well as the Girl but the Boy will sit alone sending away Strangers as they come to see the Horse, but he will not be there. For long term happiness the Boy sees the Horse experiencing this irrelevant amount of happiness, that could be equalled by staying with the Boy, as something that would not be beneficial to the Horses life over time, it will be forgotten. Who knows, when the Girl has no use of the Horse who's to say he will come back? Who's to say the Horse and his Boy will be the same together again? Who's to say Strangers will want to ride the Horse upon his return to the yard?
The Boy believes that for the greatest amount of happiness the Horse and his Boy should not part, but he also feels that the Horse deserves a different kind of happiness, his life needs a change after all these years. Who's to say the Girl will tire over time?
The Boy does not think that the Horse will be happy in the long term if he is sent to the Girl. Maybe in the short term the Horse will experience some euphoria as well as the Girl but the Boy will sit alone sending away Strangers as they come to see the Horse, but he will not be there. For long term happiness the Boy sees the Horse experiencing this irrelevant amount of happiness, that could be equalled by staying with the Boy, as something that would not be beneficial to the Horses life over time, it will be forgotten. Who knows, when the Girl has no use of the Horse who's to say he will come back? Who's to say the Horse and his Boy will be the same together again? Who's to say Strangers will want to ride the Horse upon his return to the yard?
The Boy believes that for the greatest amount of happiness the Horse and his Boy should not part, but he also feels that the Horse deserves a different kind of happiness, his life needs a change after all these years. Who's to say the Girl will tire over time?
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