Thursday 7 October 2010

A Few Smalls

Ok, I didn't write this one, but I thought it especially apt that it couldn't be looked over. It is a quote by William Henry Channing. Has a rather poetic charm...a few of us could learn from it's philosophy too. Myself included.


'To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common - this is my symphony.'


It's one of those 'if you have to ask' quotes. Also, one day I swear I WILL actually finish a story off. I started to write this next bit purely because I had an image in my head of this dark, grizzled bastard on some hill-crest with vengeance in his heart...the hill-crest belonging to a wasteland of gore and brutality. I tried a few directions with it, but this has hit the back-burner again. The working title I had in mind was 'sin', but I think I might turn this into a graphic novel instead.


'To truly understand sin, one must have first passed through it.

In my own obscurity I’d often dealt with the more negative forces of nature, being handed on and goaded into a role that I feel I wasn’t entirely born for.
            Waging wars of prejudice upon weak minded puppets used to be my sport; until I became one myself. I’d slit the throat of the snake tongued liars and sever any thread of corrupt justice meted out arbitrarily without even a glimpse behind; not a second thought. But as fate would weave it, I turned into mine own enemy; the very thing I’d loved to hate.

            It stinks. The rain only tends to make it worse…and here, it rains continuously. The morose grey gets its daily downpour, but it doesn’t bother me. You get used to it. But that smell…that smell you can never get rid of. It’s a mixture of blood, piss and defecation.
            That’s all this place stands for now. That and sin.

            I can hear the chimes ringing. The chimes of death himself. I hear them always.  They grow louder when the cadaver is close. He’s been on my trail ever since the day I chose to end the life of my lover. It’s some strange quirk of the universe; purge an untainted soul and indefinitely deface yours. Then he comes for you.
There’d be no point in trying to seek penance for the deed. It’s been done. What’s asking some paranoid superstitious fool for forgiveness going to do when I’ve got the biggest of bounties on my head? It won’t return her to me, nor will it end my grief. Nor will it keep the figure in black from tormenting my dreams and casting his grim shadow across my path. To escape him, I must escape myself.
Azure. This place will never change. A cess-pit of scum, whores, rapists, paedophiles and debased creatures clumped together in the interest of appeasing every disgusting habit and desire they’re capable of in their short and pitiful lives. I often imagine every one of them with a self destruct button on their foreheads, and if it were so I’d press them. Every single one. It still wouldn’t bring her back, but it’d make them leave. That’d be enough. 
There’s supposed to be law here, but it’s a corrupt and flawed system with leaders who have their filth-ridden fingers in every crime syndicate imaginable. In order to survive, you must take the law into your own hands or be down-trodden by the various thug gangs and democracies that thrive and breed in Azure. Their lives must expire before your term has finished. This is the only way, but this harsh reality is unpredictable when choosing its victims; its playthings. The innocent, should they truly exist in Azure, are too; expendable.
This is the only way.
Ask her if you meet her beyond. And pray tell if she forgives me…
This is Azure.'

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