Anger, Resentment and Despair October 1, 2008

Anger and resentment. Two very dangerous things. A deadly combination.

Once a phial of anger is poured into a pool of resentment, the mixture bubbles over. Steamy fumes of uncontrollable emotion emerge.  They twist and spiral in the dark air, slipping through fingers struggling to regain control. The residue left behind is despair. And those unable to control the fuming emotions either sink slowly into the thick blacknes of despair, or find another, bigger pool of resentment to pour even more anger into.

If they are able to control the fumes of emotion, the fumes flow into a crystal phial. Once they have been bottled, the phial emits a glow of happiness. And all others who see the glow smile and are envious. They are not aware that the pleasant glow of hapiness and contentment are false – merely a screen as to hide the real contents of the phial.

When too much is put into that single crystal phial, the strong crystal eventually shatters. The fumes break free, disintegrating the shards of clear crystal, consuming the glow of hapiness, leaving behind only darkness and emptiness. And in this darkness and emptiness, a new spring of resentment emerges, waiting to swallow yet another bottle of suppressed anger.

And so, the darkness grows thicker and thicker, and endles abyss of bubbling springs of resentment and anger, steamy fumes of uncontrollable emotion, swamps of despair; the only pale light coming from a single crystal phial, glowing in pretence, waiting to explode, releasing supresed anger, feelings, bringing forth a rain of sorrowful, lonely, unseen tears.

Life’s choices July 29, 2008

We must choose the gates we open, the roads we take

Life is made up of choices – many choices
And we must choose from the array of choices given us.

For each choice opens a new gate
And each gate opens to new paths.

Beyond each gate lies a crossroads
And there we must choose yet again the path to take,
The road to go by.

This road then must we walk – long or short, smooth or rough
Anf by and by we come upon a happening

Whereupon choices are yet again presented us
And we must choose from the array of choices given us.

Thus must we choose the choices we make
The gates we open and the roads we take.

Until comes that day, when, in our wake we find
The road that leads to life divine.

By this road, we know, though hard, uneven,
We will come upon the gates of Heaven.

-Gloria

Concerning Humans July 28, 2008

Concerning Humans.

Humans are such predictable creatures. Insatiable by all means, they compete with each other in the meanest of things. They live in little groups or alone, rarely in large colonies. They do have cities and civilizations, though. But listen to me, I write as if I am not one of them!

Yes, i am a daughter of the Race of Men. And perhaps I am proud to be one – a daughter, that is.

Yes, Man still discriminates between male and female. Males will always consider themselves higher, better then the ‘weak’ females. And we women, we will always claim that we ‘know’ that we are better – in almost everything – so there is no need to proclaim this loudly to the world. Let the silly men think as they will, let them fight their manly battles, while we women better occupy ourselves and our time with more productive works.

Men (boys that they are), say that women talk too much. Women say that men say this because they cannot understand what they are saying.

Men say women are much too complicated. Women say men cannot comprehend their intelligent minds, and hence, men are idiots.

Who am I to argue with the wise ones, I who still live with the ones who raised me?

All men are sons of women, and all women are daughters of men.

-Gloria

Introduction July 28, 2008

That Love is all there is,
is all we know of Love.

I don’t remember where I read this quote, or the person who said it. And yet, these simple words caught my attention like none else could that fateful day. I was writing the last scene for a FanFiction story which involved a character’s death and burial.

I ‘carved’ this inscription on the imaginary headstone of his imaginary grave, while his imaginary mate wept imaginary tears. In the midst of all this imagination, one thing we all know is – emotion is not imaginary. If it were, then perhaps we would not have readers. For if emotion and feeling were imaginary, then so would be Love, and if Love is imaginary, then does it exist at all? And if Love did not exist, then we are merely meagre creatures roaming this Earth without purpose, awaiting the time of our deaths. We would not be human. For Love, and Love alone, pure and innocent, makes us human.

—–
Why must I give you an introduction about myself? It would serve no purpose, for almost all of you who read this, surely, will never meet me, nor I, you. I could write lines and lines of witty lies about myself here, and none of you would be the wiser. And to what end? None, really.

I will leave it at this then, and let this do as an introduction. After all, to meet a being is not the same as to meet a person, and still, to meet a person is not the same as to meet that person’s mind.

-Gloria.