chaotic good

i will burn in hell for my sins.

i am a sinner. and for that, i will burn.

shortcomings and crippling transgressions. it's still sin.

not one person is righteous. i know that. especially me. i have sinned countless times. i have wronged everybody. be they innocent or deserving.

and who am i to be the judge of that?

i am aware that no one has the right to punish evil, even worse, with another act of evil. yet i continue to punish the wicked with my wrath.

i am relentless. and i cannot feel remorse anymore.

i have wronged the innocent with my unrighteousness, and poisoned others with my veniality. i have abominated the righteous and damned all others, because i have unwittingly convinced them into seeing things my way.

i will burn in hell for my sins.

i know i can never be forgiven. and i know i will have to live with that.i'm trying to buy my way into righteousnes. but in doing so, i am doing more harm than good.

i try to go out of my way to assist others, protect people's happiness, execute righteous undertakings, spread wisdom and good advice to people in need, give hope to those who need it, shed light on other people's lives, and promote good will every chance i get, in hopes of winning at least an ounce of grace or forgiveness.

but i know a million good deeds will never erase a single bad deed. worse, i display wrath to those who i deem guilty.

i may be an angel to some. but i will still burn in hell, for all eternity.

absimilliard and the illuminati

[absimilliard's adventures part nine]

seven o' clock and the alarm freaked.

i got up, rubbing my eyes. i kept them shut hoping to get as much extended shuteye as i prepare my suit just before i head for the bathroom.

i turned the television up and kept the bathroom door open so i can hear the news.

same thing everyday, i guess. nothing's changed.

after trying hard to make myself look decent enough to pass as a gentleman, i head out the front door and walk to the bus stop.

i ride a bus, and as usual, i am met with traffic.

the traffic lights don't seem to light green anymore. i spent what seemed like an eternity worrying about the time, and what my boss would probably say about me being late.

i get off the bus a block before my office building and made a dash for it.

i notice that the lights have changed a bit, as i ran towards the elevator yelling "hold the elevator please, thank you!"good thing they've changed the damned lights. it used to be so dark and gloomy. we could do with a little more luminiscence here.

i pushed the button for my floor. i checked the display, floor checked out, got out of the lift.

hmm. light's changed on this floor too.and then my eyes widen.

"what the f...?"

i remember pressing the correct floor button. but why is everything different?

i ask the security personnel if i had the correct floor. yes, he says.

"okay.. but what the f...?"

i ask him a few more questions, and he tells me that the company residing on this floor has been here for three years already.

baffled, i got out the building as fast as possible.

i ask around and the people don't seem to remember anything else remotely resembling my old company. all they know is that this other company's been around long enough.

i sit on a bench and ponder about what's going on.and then i ask another person just before i left for home.

"yeah, i used to work for the same company you're in, about a month ago. but i got me a new job. say uh.. listen, i'm in a little bit of a hurry, okay? here's my card. you can call me at this number. tomorrow morning would be a good time."

i was up all night wondering about what happened. i can't seem to figure it out.

i call the number early morning, and it says that the number i dialled is out of service.

"what the hell is going on? i've been completely duped!"

it's a conspiracy, and everybody's in on it!

loving an idea

people fall in love with an idea.

not with the person. because people, are made of ideas.

and soon, they will want to shape that idea. and that's why some relationships don't last.

we keep thinking that, like an idea, a person can and will be shaped.

and that's why some infatuations can turn into dismay just as easily as falling out of love.

they say you go to bed with the superhero, and in the morning when you wake up, you find yourself with the alter ego. and that he.. or she.. is human, after all. complete with all the flaws.

a person's epic appeal and charisma disappears after you've known him or her enough. be it an eight year marriage, a two year accord, an overnight romp, or just a two hour talk.

though we try to convince ourselves and other people that it's the person that we are in love with, it is untrue. it's a lie. it's just the idea of all of it. it's the idea of romance. it's the idea of a perfect partner. it's the idea, of a perfect relationship. it's the idea of falling in love.

it's the idea, of love.

wonderful as it may seem, it's just an idea.

love.. is no more than just an idea.

kingdom of hate

[absimilliard's adventures part eight]

i remember during one of my travels, of a diseased place.

sick, beyond imagination. the name of the place, is earth.

as i walk the streets, i see people shooting each other. in alleys, people are getting mugged. sirens are endless and deafening, and vehicles crash into each other once in a while due to reckless driving.

everybody is shouting at each other, and everyone is sarcastic. racism fills the air. gang wars, riots, and mutineers are all over the place.

the sidewalks are littered with bodies, injured men, women, and children. victims of their own reckless hate.

televangelists are all over the television stations, spreading hate and hypocrisy. every religion teaching discrimation against non-believers.

all news are bad news. they're all about wars.the system has collapsed. the government is non-existent. and the laws don't reside.

anarchy. havoc. chaos.

looking up, i see people jumping off roofs. planes gunning down each other, warchoppers firing missiles with reckless abandon.

everywhere i look, people are dying.

a blinding light flashes for about ten seconds. i hear a loud explosion. seconds later, the ground shakes. as i look over the horizon, i see a mushroom cloud rising upwards to touch the stratosphere.

and then it rains. ash and hail. the whole world is on fire. and it doesn't seem to dissipate with the rain. as if the rain acts only to fuel the flames.

the sun is crimson, and the skies are blood red. and around the sun are pieces of the broken moon, orbiting it like asteroids. every few minutes the fragments enter the earth as meteorites and deal as much damage as they can.

god forsaken place.

so much hate. so much destruction.

sins of the father

i read somewhere that in this life, we eventually become our fathers.

they call it the sins of the father.

they said that the sins of the father, will be passed on to the son.

it seemed obscure at first and i never believed it.

all my life, i've tried to avoid becoming like my dad. i grew up with the knowledge that my dad has always neglected his family, and never gave us emotional security. and that he was psychologically unfit, to take care of the family.

i know time can never change a person.and he never did, change. he's always been the person he is, never changing, always the same. he was a hater. and i too, like him, became one.

i thought i had my reasons for becoming this person. but then it turned out that we've always had the same reasons. everybody does.

i never wanted to become like my dad. i wanted to be different. i wanted to have my own accomplishments. i wanted to be successful in my own way, and i want to stand on my own ground. i wanted to have a different perspective. i wanted to have my own set of ideals. but the more i try to avoid it, the more i become like him.

i will become a person of hate.

in the end, i will be him. and my son, will be me.

the sins, of the father.

it's a damn conspiracy!

i've been pretty much listening to everything people around me have to say these days.

i ran into an interesting topic about puppets and strings. like pawns in a neverending chess game. only, on a larger scale.

and i mean epic.

and here's what i have to say about it. at least, it's what i believe.

the world is shaped, not by social pressures, market forces, technological development, and the tide of history, but by the actions and conflicts of a few shadowy groups operating behind the scenes.

these groups, collectively known as "the conspiracy", are orchestrating world development to suit their own inscrutable needs. they are interconnected with large organizations, which are in turn connected to the smaller groups all over the world like an infinite spider's web. they are situated comfortably at the heart of the web, shielded behind innumerable layers of fronts and shells.

they rarely take direct action. instead, they simply tug on one strand of the web here and there, subtly influencing the actions of other groups, which in turn, influence others, eventually bringing the desired result. like ripples in a pond. like when a small stone is cast into the sea, producing ripples which will eventually lead to enormous waves.

everything, is staged. even wars. these are all waged by the mortals inside the safety of the web of conspiracy.

though the existence of a group that stage-manages the world may seem frightening, it is still not hard to accept. we may have already accepted that fact, though we are still unaware of our acceptance.

there is no "accident of history". everything is orchestrated and manipulated. both coincidence and synchronicity are phantasms, comfortable fictions we maintain to avoid having to come face to face with the awful truth.

disturbing.. but compelling.

it kind of makes you wonder.

are the wars we wage real? or are they all staged?
is world hunger just a plot?
why is inflation out of control?
why.. and who.. killed JFK?
is elvis or hitler still alive like some say?
is our technology merely modern?

be a conspiracy theorist. believe.

otherwise, forget you read this article and go back to your mundane life. i may be just another puppet on a string, manipulated to exaggerate, to make the idea of all of it more unreal. to hide us from the truth.

or.. i'm just a little drunk.

if it weren't my time

i ran across this poem in the internet. i felt i can almost relate to it, because i once wrote a poem about forgiveness, and this is similar in a way that both of them are like asking for a second chance in life.

or something like that. it's complicated.

and it's melting my heart. here goes.

the puppet

if for a moment god would forget that i am a rag doll and give me a scrap of life, possibly i would not say everything that i think, but i would definitely think everything that i say.

i would value things not for how much they are worth but rather for what they mean.

i would sleep little, dream more. i know that for each minute that we close our eyes we lose sixty seconds of light.

i would walk when the others loiter; i would awaken when the others sleep.

i would listen when the others speak, and how i would enjoy a good chocolate ice cream.

if god would bestow on me a scrap of life, i would dress simply, i would throw myself flat under the sun, exposing not only my body but also my soul.

my god, if i had a heart, i would write my hatred on ice and wait for the sun to come out. with a dream of van gogh i would paint on the stars a poem by benedetti, and a song by serrat would be my serenade to the moon.

with my tears i would water the roses, to feel the pain of their thorns and the incarnated kiss of their petals.. my god, if i only had a scrap of life..

i wouldn't let a single day go by without saying to people i love, that i love them.

i would convince each woman or man that they are my favourites and i would live in love with love.

i would prove to the men how mistaken they are in thinking that they no longer fall in love when they grow old, not knowing that they grow old when they stop falling in love. to a child i would give wings, but i would let him learn how to fly by himself. to the old i would teach that death comes not with old age but with forgetting. i have learned so much from you men..

i have learned that everybody wants to live at the top of the mountain without realizing that true happiness lies in the way we climb the slope.

i have learned that when a newborn first squeezes his father's finger in his tiny fist, he has caught him forever.

i have learned that a man only has the right to look down on another man when it is to help him to stand up. i have learned so many things from you, but in the end most of it will be no use because when they put me inside that suitcase, unfortunately i will be dying.