Silent questions.

A broken man questions to understand.

So I understand what place of pain a man strains from to ask why a God mighty in battle, that protects his children from harm sits still as armed men walk in his house and murder his worshipers.

A broken man questions to understand. But a foolish man takes a stand from a position of ignorance.

Rocks Cry.

I know rocks cry when we take machines to them, breaking off it's skins till only a puddle is left where strength once stood.

Blessings.

*May you ride on the back of lions, the Krakan, and lightening bolts.

*May the back of crocodiles rescue you and your kin from drowning.

*May pythons fold as pillows for your sleeping head.

And when you go hunting with blunt tools, *may the waters release a sharpened set to aid your day's toil.

Blessings.

When men seek to curse you, *may dragons swallow and spit their curses back at them. Now. And forever.

Eight Questions.

Why does the cock flail, running away from his pending death after it's head is already cut off?

Why is the man resisting the temptation on his lip when the nipple is already grazing his infant's lip?

Why do we accept the medicine for the dead man when his grave is already celebrating an anniversary?

And why?

Why does this flower flail in the wind as though protesting its death at sundown?

Why do we refuse to live?

Why do we refuse this life thrust on us?

And when do we start living?

On Choosing.

It is a human failing that'd make the boy decide he could do better in choosing.
So he'd leave his first for the newer, but would find years after;

*that newer is no better than the first.

*That age would make newer wither too.

*And childbirth would make newer more a mother than a lover as it did the first.

This Love Thing.

It is different every time, this love, thing.

You meet the boy in your teens and it was love too. That innocence, that first time at everything, the palpitations and the sheer stupidity of everything else.

Grown people knew it wouldn't lead to much, that life would happen to you and this thing you feel will wither, or fall. And they are often right. 
For, sometime after your various graduations, first jobs and new people, it'd die. But it was love too. Just a different kind from what you know now.

Now, love is sitting next to someone you once loved, holding him down because you know he is having a breakdown and the only good you can do is not sleep until he is better.

Love is knowing that your partner is scared, possibly for life, and recognising this, intentionally picking up all his shrapnel and splinters along the way hoping to patch him up when he needs it.

Love is now also companionship and lifelong plans, learning your lover's illnesses and walking on a care plan together.

Love is responsibility and subtle head nods too.

For some, Love is recognising that he is not only yours too, that you aren't that special after all. He is yours and hers and his mother's too.

Now, love is meeting broken people, and fixing inches of their lives one encounter at a time because you can't fix them, really. You can do just this much and hope.

Now, love is different things and nothing.

Tide.

We are all chasing mavericks until we tire from it, and get ready for the waves in the tide.

I have been waiting.

Crumbs

These days, there is often food in my bed and a drink on my bed rest. Not good for my weight gain.

Sometimes I wake up to ants crawling on my arm because the popcorn bowl is often never really empty and the crumbs from sweetened biscuits call on other beings to me too. This is the reward of nutritioning in bed with movies (and the occasional PowerPoint slides I make during idea burst). The last time I'd done this was with Merit. I kept her TV and now I pointlessly have two TV's in one room.

I try not to think so hard.

Yesterday, I found a product I'd been looking out for the past year. Jergen's, 'hydrating Coconut' 'dry skin moisturizer'. I am not picky with products usually. I'd use any cream that does not lighten or tone my skin.

Anything is fine.

Vaselines are great.

My mother says I abused Vaselines as a child. I'd empty a whole bottle of Vaseline on my body, take a stool to the sun and sit out while calling myself a shining Queen. This is funny until the 20th bottle BTW.

Back to the cream; I had bought this 'hydrating coconut' Jergens a year ago because I really love coconut, you know, and found that the moisturizer took well to my skin too.

The texture of the cream itself was just right, not so shinny like that Nivea moisturizer in the Blue bottle.

Thinking about it now, I'm unsure if I liked the product for myself or it was transfered inference from my older Sister Jane. I remember she'd gushed about it and had mentioned how it was so great you could moisturise anything with it ( I put a squirt on my hair and felt my strands jump I swear), so maybe I liked it because she did, I don't know. But after that first bottle, I returned to the shops to buy more but never found it until yesterday. I had to catch myself from screaming when I found that lone bottle on the shelf.

Well, that's that.

You realize now that you'd been reading all these hoping to find a conclusion that sums up my thoughts conclusively right? Now that you know I am not going to do that for you, what do you do?

Conquer: On Lies.

A lie undignifies it's peddler.

A liar loses dignity when he is found out.

A Deity's prayer;

May our sleeps come in breaths and our beer gourds in the morning.

                                 For those whose toes will curl anytime soon, I wish you babies!