Saturday, April 30, 2005

Simon

To Simon changing between the unconsciousness and conscious states lasted as if eternity was blasted within a second. Like blinking, he was seeing one moment, then not, then seeing again, but the time that passed when he was not seeing lasted much longer than it seemed. It was all very confusing for Simon; it was even more confusing when he woke up in various places with people in white clothes clustering about him and his parents saying this he couldn’t hear. Finally he woke up one time and was more aware than ever, he was moving with people moving his bed down a hall. His whole body ached with weakness, moving his hand caused a sharp pain, which shocked his whole body out of idleness. Letting out a small cry, one of the people pushing his bed turned toward him and softly told him to not move his hand-that it was connected to an IV. Simon nodded and had no idea what they were talking about but decided not to move his hand anyways if it was going to hurt. He closed his eyes and thought about his last memories.
It had been a different day than any other school day. Simon overall hated school. He did very well class but was a very private person (he was also older than all his classmates) and for this he was condemned to an outcast state. Yet that day as he was eating his lunch alone by a tree within school grounds one of his classmates walked over to him and asked if she could eat with him, more precisely a girl came over to him and asked. Even more precisely Sasha Charkov came over and asked him if she could sit next to him. Simon wasn’t shy, just private, and he calmly said “sure” and then started furiously thinking for what possible reason would Sasha want to sit next to him. They ate in silence until Sasha said:
“I think you’re a pretty cool guy.”
Simon was a private person, the year before he had friends, and although he had been alone this year he still had observed the “events” which teens would-in his opinion- stupidly engage in. These involved having crushes, skipping school, gossiping and others which he loathed mainly because all his friends were gone, making him angry at anyone who was able to enjoy the teen drama. He scowled.
“No you don’t.”
“No I don’t what?” Sasha began getting uneasy.
“No you don’t like me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You were though, weren’t you?”
“Well I-“
But Simon was getting annoyed and he cut her off.
“What do you want?”
It was Sasha’s turn to start getting annoyed.
“Look. I don’t want anything. I didn’t even want to come over here in the first place.”
“Why did you come then?”
“Never mind.” And with that Sasha got up and walked away. Immediately Simon regretted getting mad, but he couldn’t help it. In the past girls had come up to him for help on homework. But it still puzzled him why she would come over and ask to eat with him.
Simon groaned in his sleep. Velaho looked up from where he was sitting, then glanced at to Breck but he shook his head. No enemies yet.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

comments-

thanks for all the support-mom/thayer/mrs. branagh/rach/dad :) im not feeing very "creative" at the moment.. i might give it a whack after a bit

Emerlo

Velaho attended to the boy as he passed out. Catching and caring for the body, giving the heart just enough strength to go on. Breck went ahead of the car to make sure all traffic lights they passed were green and then planted a need of haste in the mother. As the mother drove to the hospital, unaware of the boys state, Breck joined in with Velaho as he sung the healing song. When the car arrived at the hospital there was a blur of panic and screams of help when the mother realised her son had passed out. Breck and Velaho stood back and nodded a notification to the two angels accompanying the paramedics. They accompanied the boy as he was rushed into the ER. Whether it was days or hours the messengers did not notice, for they did not acknowledge time when they did not need to. They prayed as scans were taken of his body. They stood against the wall in the operating room as the healing angels (healers who were assigned to the doctors) sang their songs over the boy and guided the surgeons hands. When the boy's surgery was finished he was wheeled into the ICU. In the small room stood Emerlo. Berk's blue eyes brightened, he had fought along Emerlo's side in Germany, he was one of the best influencers. Velaho was relieved to have a third comrade, singing for a failing heart had not been easy and influencers were always helpful in the manipulation of human materials. After Berk and Emerlo exchanged bows, Emerlo asked Velaho the state of the boy.
"The boy's name is Simon Macvey. When he was conscious I detected that his spirit was very strong yet very troubled and distressed. In his body I felt irregular activity on his left lung. The scans showed a tumor and the surgeons have just removed it. Tonight he is very vulnerable to attack so we must be on alert." Velaho said somberly.
"Simon will live then." Emerlo affirmed, and he began tinkering with the IV's going to Simons body.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Velaho

His eyes twitched as he scanned for opposition. His mouth grew into a wary smile as he saw a car approach. Two little lights along with a large bright light gliding next to it. It began to rain and he descended down to earth approaching the car from the rear. Using the rain as stairs and stepping stones he ran up next to Breck. Smiling he nodded to his comrade. Velaho was not a beautiful angel, in fact he was quite ugly with blotchy yellow skin and stringy long brown hair. He was not a fighter in the ranks but a healer. His clothes were rags as he frequently took the human form of a beggar. Despite his ugliness, he was very wise and was one of the brightest to shine. When Breck saluted Velaho and the two continued after the car in silence. Breck was very well built, with freckled skin, short orange hair and white clothes. He was assigned to protect the boy in the car. When Breck saw Velaho next to him, he understood that this was a serious case. Rarely were two messengers of the LORD assigned to one boy, especially a soldier and healer. Velaho then spoke.
"This boy is very ill. I have spoken with the LORD and I am told there is to be one more to accompany us."
"Do you know the name of this brother?" Breck answered.
"All that I know is that he is an influencer and is not from this place."
"An influencer. This task must be of great importance, how ill is the boy Velaho?"
"All in good time my brother. Patience."

The boy in the car winced and he held his side. The boy was short for his age and with blonde hair and green eyes he was very handsome. At seventeen he did not have very many friends at his school. Two of his best friends had moved away the year before and it has been a difficult sophomore year and now he was sick. He didn't know what he was sick with yet, their local doctor had told him and his mom that they should go to a bigger hospital for a better diagnosis. He groaned as he passed out in the back of the car.

Monday, April 25, 2005

Breck

Breck looked down and tried to find the school where his new reward was. Up in the sky the view of the land all looked the same. Suburbs. How on earth Americans could handle it he never knew. Singing a song and raising his eyes to the sky he did a little dance. Oh! How he had craved this assignmet and finally he had been rewarded for his works. He looked back down onto the suburbs. This time instead of cement and pavements with cars rushing past, he saw light and darkness. The overwhelming greyness and flickering of lights troubled him immedietely and he began to understand why he had been assigned along with so many others to work for the cause. No worries though. For the LORD was always victorious. He leaped of his perch and glided down to one of the buildings which was filled with bright lights flickering off and on. He had noticed the place by the surrounding darkness trying to suffocate it. He landed on the asphalt with a twist of balance; years of riding and dancing in the wind in praise payed off as there was few who were blessed with flying in such ease and celerity. He ran a bit and then leaped on to the campus grounds. He walked past the teenagers who were talking and shouting while climbing into cars going home. He looked around as the teenagers walked around him, completely oblvious of his presence. Suddenly his eyes brightened and he thanked the LORD for he had found his reward and his reward was filled with spirit and a house was present.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

had a relapse..bad at rehab..ruins everything


well ive figured out my outfit.. wadaya think? lol
i cant find the book..so i wont be able to write about some things i thought about "such-n-such" so I am just going to ramble if you dont mind. And since its 1 am..and other reasons..im going to be very sloppy in my writing/grammar/spelling..because eventually youll get used to it and not mind...so whats the point? ok well theres a point..but im ignoring it this morning

I've decided to dye part of my hair a blueish after it grows out just a bit more..so i can match saras red hair problemo (which i completely disregard as cool and not a problem..but eh..the problemo word just flowed) oh! you know what i liked about C.S. Lewis in his book? Was that he would think while he wrote. One paragraph he would be writing his thoughts and then say "no..actually..thats wrong" I love that because i do that all the time...speaking my thoughts to God in the dark..ill be talking and just talking..and then find my reasoning is all a bunch of a crap..or ill be writing in a diary (ye i actually have a diary where i dont publically broadcast it..amazing huh?) ..and ill be writing my thoughts to God. Wrestling in a written text form you could say...and i'll find myself wrong, and i find it a waste to spend 30 minutes writing something only to find it totally blind and stupid..so i leave it incase i make the same idiotic mistake again. Earth wind and fire will wake me up really easily in the morning..but after that ill just sort of doze..and its not really relaxing. Pain sometimes makes my days feel almost unrealistic..dreamy sorts. No. Not the drugs..im all but begining to become immune to their effects unfortunately. Just the pain will numb my other sense so that living is all surreal. I barely notice temperatures these days...ive only noticed its gotten warmer over the past 3 months because i begin sweating when in a t-shirt ..ye a dream... but then.. what is real? This life could all be a dream or a thought in the minds of our soul...and for some of us just a begining to something else.
But that thought alone just blows my mind into countless scenarios and possibilities.
everyhing is so complicated. or is it? hehe you can take someones mind and just completely whack it out of shape if youve looked at a smilar mind and found its weaknesses and strengths. the laws regarding human communication is really simple..just a matter of figuring each one out.
the days fly by...i squirm about how everything just happensthese days..i dont look at the clock on my computer..only when i check the date or someone asks me do i notice it..otherwise i tell the time by what time i took my pills..or how long ago i took my pills...
im going to go to bed now...i feel sufficiently tired and worn out..and in enough pain to wake up to arouse slumber upon my body.

now listening to: my voices in my head charge God with not coming up with a more elaborate plan..He could've at least made it possible for me..to.. somehow win the lottery ..or meet the President..or Colin Powell....but nope..I get to meet exciting Dr. Kennedy!...AYE CARAMBA!

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

paranormal

..the spiritual unknown..angels, archangels, cherubims and seraphims...beasts and creatures confined to the spiritual realm..dimension .. ah so intruiging
ill talk about the song playing..some other time when i have more time
you find me repeating myself? sorry

ill leave you with something C.S. Lewis joted down in his notebook-which became the book A Grief Observed..he wrote:
"I once read the sentence 'I lay awake all night with a toothache, thinking about the toothache and about lying awake.' Thats true to life. Part of every misery is so to speak the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer"

oooh so sweet are the words which you identify so well with.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Coming out of the Darkness

It pulls you down, "give up, its so much effort" it says
But you breath, you take a breath for those standing near to you
Every breath is a hundred strong Bulls. Trampling your thoughts and troubling your mind
It's relaxing and its hell. All compressed and cooked well.
Swelling, bubbling your mind is mine. I claim it and try to breath at command.
But it's so much more easier to just not.
I'm naked, exposed beneath the blankets. I do not care I am relieved.
"No!" I say, to myself and breath.
I wish i could tear this mask away from my face.
Fly away afar from this place.
No time for blundering, i breath again. It's so much effort. So much effort.
As my mind conforms to time. Earth time, our time. I open my eyes.
All around me, familiar things. I close my eyes- a slow blink and I wish again that I could go.
I breath at command, from somewhere near. Some nurse or mom, some voice in my ear.
It's so hard, im relaxed, just let me be! But yet again I breath as we take over he.
Who am I? I am conscious, Kris' that is. I am awake, sleepy but here, his body.
His body. His body has been meddled with, troubled, I fear.
Too late, I was shut out while this attrocity took place. Too late, but i agreed to be shut out.
Breath! A command that makes me sick and tired. To breath when everything, all around is wild.
I get used to it, the body and I. We become Kris and he talks through "I".
I hate this. Fighting to breath, when i could surrender.
I could surrender and flow so relaxedly. Life would go on. Just without me. Thats ok...
Sighing. I breath again. I start to talk. "Why do I fight this feeling? this feeling to give up?" I think, I talk.
I laugh, i bite. Chocolate from the nurses pocket. My mind whirls. It dances and swirls.
I'm alive..yea, no more feeling of giving up. What a shame- I liked it so much.
Breathing is constant. They take pulsox off. I heave myself up as my strength rushes around.
I remember why I live.
"My body, this lean carrion that still has to be washed and fed and have clothes hung about it daily with
so many changes.." -Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis
so many changes. The strength that rushed through and around me. A strength that is not my own, or is it.
Aha! The strength of my mind, my will. My thoughts. My dreams and ideals! Energy that feeds my soul.
and all it was- just some blackout drugs.
I shall return to my reading, I really just needed to write out what it feels like to come out of anesthesia.
...maybe one of the reasons I live is to write. For if I were unable to write, then I might die. But..hehe
"Man proposes, God Disposes."

now playing: The Nutcracker Suite by Tchaikovsky

Saturday, April 02, 2005

"When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading." - Henny Youngman

Well! I've started reading again...this time I think I'll try and bring a book along wherever I go..get into the habit of being a bookworm again. I have a rather large book list to cover too. I'd post it all..but I'd be boring and this place is for writing not to bore..thats the other blog. So I'm going to give you some quotes from the book I'm reading for the third time:
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'Engle:
The spoken word is one of the triumphs of man and i intend to continue using it, particularly with people I dont trust. -Charles Wallace (character)
We are such stuff which dreams are made on. -The Temptest quoted by Mrs. Who
To action little, less to words inclined. -Hores quoted by Mrs. Who
What grievous pain a little fault doth give thee. -Dante also quoted by Mrs. Who
La coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaƮt point.
or
The heart has its reasons whereof reason knows nothing. -Mrs. Who (who likes quoting in different languages, plays and dead writers)

A Wrinkle in Time...a great book..but only for those with great imaginations.