Maze of Recollection

Within darkness my soul reaches
Toward the light at the end of a maze
Collecting pockets of forgotten memory as I run
through the many twists and turns
Narrowly missing the dead ends of things regretted and lostThe gaps in the stone walls branch out like paths
of birth and death and after-life, of things that happened and the “If”
The nagging probability of possibility that dares me to take chances

Chances that force me to leave these things behind like forgotten baggage
from the boarding station that could’ve been
but never was

I look down as I slow to a walk out of here
marvelling at the bulging pockets of the coat
filled with shards in the shape of scrapbooking
of things I loved, things I missed, things I never forgot

Little Red

All the eyes dare to see is red
this hunger that is, dares to grow, wishes to be fedThe darkness permeates
the unforgivable surge of anger and the rage
stains the blood upon the ancient journal’s page
The morality-line of the heart is gladly severed
One flower is rotted amongst the few, the whiteness finally levered

UpDate

I’m thinking of starting over with this and getting several “projects” I was doing earlier on track, some of these are:

Abstractions: Sci-fi Cyberpunk Noir started last year. I will try to reconstruct the jumbled timeline beforehand.

2nd Life: A story of memory and betrayal that I abandoned because of other pursuits named after an Earth Girl Arjuna song.

Alternate Symphony: Something made in the Symphonyverse to fill the gaps in the timeline. Very confusing.

So wish me luck, that’s all I ask. In the meantime, check out Randomly Relevant

Futura

Governed by logic
ranked by perfection
sorted by intellectbeauty by numbers
make-up by genetics
fashion by sameness
thinking by adverts

living by cities
helplessness by sedation
silence by segregation
prisoned by walls

reproducing by cloning
sexuality by castration
love by emotionlessness
responding by quoting

Death by statistic
rebirth by digital trascendence

This is you
this is your children
this is life
this is your future
this is death
this is the future
this is the metropolis

Back. From. The. Dead

I haven’t written here in ages. I could imagine myself now, digging all this stuff from a buried chest and sweeping off the dust from once new and shiny, unwrinkled tomes of writing I poured bits of myself into at one time, went I knew that I was rushing and naive. In short, I’m coming back here! Bringing this place back to life and removing (and separating) the weeds from dead flowers is going to be a pain. I’ve started planning to go with short stories instead this time, as well as stuff from that other place. So bear with me, for I am stupid, rush-like, naive and risk-taking.

Mind of Mind

Don’t feed the robots,

because they want you to be them

Don’t feed the robots,

because you want to be like them

Don’t believe the TV,

because they are the robots

Don’t feed the human,

’cause we think he’s stupid

Songlyrics: Chameleon

On I walk on my own

shedding this thing called skin and scales

and path of color behind me,

stretching from afar and away.

Episode III: Medulla/Forgot-Me-Yes

She was here, the one I called Maria. She was still alive! I’d thought the war must’ve destroyed her, but I was wrong.
“Waaait! Wait for me! I wanna go with you!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, hoping only she heard. Winds of the Plains made my words echo around. She signalled the machine beside her to wait up.

Episode III: Medulla/Intruders

I heard these voices inside his heart; the heart of The Drugged and Fallen one, the one who nearly caused my own tumbling into the abyss where my body would have rotted.

Episode III: Medulla/The Pleasure Is All…

The cult member was dead; it sent a