02/03/09

Feb. 4th, 2009 02:13 am
jack_babalon: (Default)
[personal profile] jack_babalon
Numb fingers shiver on cold plastic keys.

Pounding at a wall of ice with my fists here. The chill of it burns against the knuckles. Eventually they begin to bleed, when they do the blood sticks to the ice so that each strike tears a little more skin from the bone. It doesn’t matter. The words are behind that wall. Not dead – sleeping. Think twice. Look again: The well isn’t dry, it is frozen over. Stare down it long enough and your eyes will cast their own light to see the bottom with. Beneath the surface auburn shadows move – an aquarium of restless silhouettes – if you can find a way to break the surface you will be able to feed off them. Their meat will warm the trembling muscles calm. Their flesh will kindle the belly’s fire against a damp nausea. The heat of their lives between your teeth will keep them from chattering.

All it takes is a single crack.

Keep going.

There will be pain but that is an advantage. It will feed you when inspiration will not.

Fatigue will grind you down… but from within and slowly at that. A poison of your body’s own weakness. Remember then that all poisons bring with their passing their own unique visions and revelations. Tame the will to accept these dreams that come without sleep and travel through them to your destination.

Next the fear will find you. The wolves circling the dwindling campfire. The drool glistening with moonlight from their grinning jaws. You will hear them growl all the thing you will never be – remembered, loved, counted. This is their promise – that the distant dawn will greet only your corpse and nothing else of you will remain. Be brave: Teach the wolves that man bites back and the reach of our claws go beyond our grasp.

Most treacherous of all though will be simple weakness. The bed of a good story left unmade, never writing back to a good idea, allowing the candle of a beautiful thought to burn in an empty room. The snooze button life, five more minutes chipped away from a time that is not forever. Press forward, don’t walk lightly around the grave of sleeping pilgrims. Stomp forward through the mud and don’t look down when you do – for there are puddles in the mud and the reflections they cast will lull you into a slumber without rest.

Finally you will reach a terrible silence.

Having been forced to wrestle your devils naked and without any supper you will find in their defeat no glory… but only a vast emptiness that threatens to absorb the tear drop of your awareness into its endless waters. You will at one point reach the promised land and will be able to deliver to your waiting lover the letter you guarded against each and every ambush … only upon opening it up to find its pages blank.

Don’t give up.

While it is true that some knights slay their dragons after a long and costly battle, only to discover that the treasure these ferocious beasts so jealously guarded was in fact nothing more than candy money all along. Be that as it may, it is also true that the battle itself was the real reward and that oddly enough each chocolate coin, though worthless in mere currency, still tastes sweeter than the real thing.

Scream into the silence then…

… as loud as you can, with everything you got…

…until the walls crumble beneath the fists...

... and the words come roaring down upon you.

on 2009-02-04 03:12 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] novadrome.livejournal.com
Inspiring.

on 2009-02-04 11:33 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] jackbabalon23.livejournal.com
Cool, then the post wasn't a waste:)

on 2009-02-04 08:33 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] ammutbite.livejournal.com
speaking of chocolate coins

http://www.afterlifenews.com/a/1385.html

"Phra Payom Kalayano, the abbot of a temple in the Bangkok suburb of Nonthaburi, produced chocolate cookies that resembled the amulets and called them "Four bites." Stamped on them are four of the Buddha's teachings on how to become wealthy.

"I want to remind people that becoming rich is about discipline and hard work, not magical amulets. If it is really magical, why would the monks share it with you and not keep it to themselves and make money for the temples?" he said.


get your own
http://chocolatedeities.com/deities.php
Edited on 2009-02-04 08:38 pm (UTC)

on 2009-02-04 11:35 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] jackbabalon23.livejournal.com
Don't go to church on Sunday
Don't get on my knees to pray
Don't memorize the books of the Bible
I got my own special way
Bit I know Jesus loves me
Maybe just a little bit more

I fall on my knees every Sunday
At Zerelda Lee's candy store

Well it's got to be a chocolate Jesus
Make me feel good inside
Got to be a chocolate Jesus
Keep me satisfied

Well I don't want no Anna Zabba
Don't want no Almond Joy
There ain't nothing better
Suitable for this boy
Well it's the only thing
That can pick me up
Better than a cup of gold
See only a chocolate Jesus
Can satisfy my soul

When the weather gets rough
And it's whiskey in the shade
It's best to wrap your savior
Up in cellophane
He flows like the big muddy
But that's ok
Pour him over ice cream
For a nice parfait

Well it's got to be a chocolate Jesus
Good enough for me
Got to be a chocolate Jesus
Good enough for me

Well it's got to be a chocolate Jesus
Make me feel good inside
Got to be a chocolate Jesus
Keep me satisfied

~ Chocolate Jesus, Tom Waits

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