Action And Reaction. What do you see over that hill? Is the horizon there or is it just a line? You should walk to where the sea meets the sky And find where infinity and completion meet.
The Fact of Remaining. Before it happened there was nothing apparent. I was unaware of the frailties of the human condition and the impotence of my destiny as my encroaching future became present. I boasted that no-one could oppose my nature. I was the God in my own world. Until that day. Lightning pain..and the world was nearly gone, but it had altered forever; reality had shifted to another, more accurate existence despite my physical disdain. At first the colour of experience was gone. All that remained at best was a kaleidoscope of greys amid the possibilities of encroaching Darkness itself. White noise and Light assailed my diminished faculties as I lay there wondering whence the journey might take me. Fear...Rage...Regret...Sadness...Fear So much unsaid, so much not done. What would happen to the strands of #life torn asunder? Time passed and other’s lives continued, but each night the Succubi came and stood gazing as my chest ached for freedom , for sensation, they waiting for my #life’s expiration. Achluophobia or Despair. I questioned all purchase of #life amid the countless deities appealing for my acceptance. Days become weeks became months and the darkness started to clear as I accepted not what fate had taken from me, but what it had made me appreciate. That I, as man, could only expect to adhere to my mortal ambling for but a finite time and that moments gained were precious memories attained. The fact of remaining was the joy in being all that had passed but allowing new futures to be the bedrock of my legacy, for when I journey into those grey mists, as all men must, I would accept that a gentle wind would herald my arrival to those shores from which none might return hither... And peace be mine... Mark Collins (2013).
The Fact Of Remaining. The Fact of Remaining. Before it happened there was nothing apparent. I was unaware of the frailties of the human condition and the impotence of my destiny as my encroaching future became present. I boasted that no-one could oppose my nature. I was the God in my own world. Until that day. Lightning pain..and the world was nearly gone, but it had altered forever; reality had shifted to another, more accurate existence despite my physical disdain. At first the colour of experience was gone. All that remained at best was a kaleidoscope of greys amid the possibilities of encroaching Darkness itself. White noise and Light assailed my diminished faculties as I lay there wondering whence the journey might take me. Fear...Rage...Regret...Sadness...Fear So much unsaid, so much not done. What would happen to the strands of #life torn asunder? Time passed and other’s lives continued, but each night the Succubi came and stood gazing as my chest ached for freedom , for sensation, they waiting for my #life’s expiration. Achluophobia or Despair. I questioned all purchase of #life amid the countless deities appealing for my acceptance. Days become weeks became months and the darkness started to clear as I accepted not what fate had taken from me, but what it had made me appreciate. That I, as man, could only expect to adhere to my mortal ambling for but a finite time and that moments gained were precious memories attained. The fact of remaining was the joy in being all that had passed but allowing new futures to be the bedrock of my legacy, for when I journey into those grey mists, as all men must, I would accept that a gentle wind would herald my arrival to those shores from which none might return hither... And peace be mine... Mark Collins (2013).
