Farmboy Chronicles

Farmboy Chronicles

JUNE 24, 2007

(part 1)

Sunday, the cool afternoon breeze signals a few more hours of quiet time before the inevitable manic Monday. Face slightly tilted looking at the sky. Old sleepy eyes caged in thick lenses see the world in utmost joy. Surrounded by people as precious as the life giving air, powerful than any panacea; soothing than any aroma, he knew that life can’t get any better. A magic cellar filled not with expensive wine but with bottled up memories able to extinguish the deepest thirst of the soul, filling with ease even the steepest cliffs, even the great Marianas. He spends his idle time unearthing piled up memories. He believes that life has a meaning only if you can find comfort in your memories, for him it was greatest of all escape.

Heaven spoils the afternoon and  sends a mild reminder through the convergence of day and night. Casting a shadow on the land where an army of little lights crown the sky, tattooed like spits of white paint on your favorite black shirt. You could just loose yourself while staring at the vast labyrinth of constellations winding in your imagination. Breathing in with the silence, he simplifies the complexities of life. In the darkness he was contemplating how to placate his army of ideas, unstable as the sun’s layer, shooting up random thoughts millions of kilometers across the universe.

Lab

Lab

JUNE 11, 2007

it was not without a price: those moments of blissful living. moments you would like capture and store them in clear jars and watch them in your dying days. although it took a long time before the vampires came, the blood inside my nerves was sucked dry in an instant, leaving me like a lifeless plant. the collateral was more that i thought, maybe you used a self-mutating computation algorithm coded for loansharks.  thank you for making me realize that i was  honest to the point of stupidity. i learned that honesty is not the best policy, because you get crucified in the nude afterwards.  you have this effect on me wherein my hands stay in the neutral zone, taming my flaming passion with your actions. how far we’ve gone remains like an undiscovered gaseous element – no specific mass and weight. it’s ironic that you never play consoles, because whenever you feel like it you hit the reset button, and it’s back to stage one. that is why it wouldn’t matter, even if mario would stomp the green turtle for a hundred lives, he would still end up in stage one.