Faith

So today in some free time I had I decided to do some reading. Every Monday I have 45 minutes free from 2:15 to 3:00 and I have developed the comfortable habit of sitting in the common room and reading the Great Gatsby. Some of you may have read it, if not I highly recommend it. I do cherish my time I have to read it, as I rarely seem to find time at home to do so. Today while reading, a friend (or close enough to one) walks by. He walks up to me and asks me how i'm doing. I say I'm doing fine and am enjoying my reading. He says sweet. Not being the most truant lad I know, I had suspicions that he may have been skipping whatever class he was probably meant to be in. He said he was, it was maths.

Strike 1.

I implored him to return to class, though he seemed perfectly happy wasting his life away with no intellectual stimulation what so ever. As though determined to prove this point to me, he then struck up a conversation about the song he was currently listening to on his very new iphone 4. It was called "fuck shit stack". Initially I thought I had misheard him when he told me the title, so being intrigued as to what the song was actually about I agreed to listen and watch the video. I had heard right. I then preceded to sit through four and a half minutes of a man literally swearing to a beat. Total, nonsensical swearing. The chorus I believe was "Fuck and shit and fuck and shit, it's a fuck shit stack! A fuck shit stack!". He laughed merrily as I watched this grotesque and obscene piece of 'music', and I use the word lightly. I asked him if he genuinely found it funny. He said he thought it had a good beat, and was catchy.

Strike 2.

After the song had finished we then continued to have our non-conversation so he could waste time and avoid returning to class, if he had even gone in the first place. Thoroughly bored, offended and to an extent sickened. He talked to me about some other music he liked and I pretended to listen. It's not as if he even cares about my opinion on things anyway. A few minutes had passed when he then began to complain about how he could no longer remember his mothers credit card details. Hence, he could no longer steal money from her electronically to pay for music without her knowing. Stealing from your mother.

Strike 3.

At this point I became incensed. I may have appeared calm on the outside but there is nothing I wanted to do more than hold you up against that brick wall, and punch you time and time again yelling "you are the downfall of human society you pathetic goon!". I wanted to see you cower, and get some real perspective. See the fear in your eyes. My well of pity has run dry, and when I bear my full force down upon you cry for a god you barely ever thought existed. You obscene, empty, stealing piece of filth. If you ever talk to me again like that I will beat you senseless.

Thanks beachball, you almost broke my faith in people.

Torrents

A man sits upon the railing of a bridge, looking down into the water some eight metres below. The navy torrent moves with great force carrying branches, scrub and parts of the eroding bank. It swirls with a seemingly insatiable rage. A flash of lightning jags through the sky illuminating the dark clouds that blanket the valley. As the gentle rain begins to set in, a chill runs through the air, unusually cold for the time of year. The man rises from his seating, yet continues to gaze at the body of water snaking through the old riverbed. Memories fill the man's head of a life lived long ago. A family awaits him in a small hut, the glow of the fire within the cabin visible for miles. He remembers the touch of intimacy and how his heart had sung with those children in his arms. Now he had nothing. Whispering ghosts of a forgotten past. As the river became ever more violate he wondered if he would ever have the courage or conviction to jump. To join his family once more and be rid of his retched form. Sometimes there is not always a reason to live. Minutes pass, and still he is racked with an unshakable cowardice. Perhaps he will always be alone.

stronger

So right now life is pretty full. Most things pretty much fall under the categories of planning, exercising, or studying. This is why as of late blogging has been reduced to a minimum. Not out of any loathing for the task, it's simply just a matter of priority. So yeah, absence explained.

Usually whenever I'm getting fit/working towards a goal I find it really hard. My mind will ache. My body will ache. Though lately the tables have been turning.

I'll run so I feel I'm going to throw up. My legs are burning and are about to collapse under my weight. When I get back in the house I usually lie down for a few minutes just to start getting some air back into my lungs. But it feels so amazing. Every day, I'll lift, run and swim to try and push my body to its breaking point, but every day it rises ready for more. No matter how hard I thrash them, these bruised muscles won't let me down. My confidence is growing as is my ability. I'm getting faster, stronger, smarter, and I'm damn happy about it. Lets see how long it takes to hit breaking point.

My hatred of the facade

I am becoming tangled in a web of lies, secrets and deception. My mind begins to unfurl the bonds that have taken a lifetime to forge in questioning the truth. You know I am always here for you, but how can I help behind a closed door? All I want to do is help. Appearances are certainly not as they seem. The world around me is changing, rearing its ugly head. As the dull facade crumbles I am left staring into the eyes of a beast I wished never to confront. Everyone around is being torn piece by piece into oblivion and all I can think about is how hard it is for me. Sometimes the fire burning within is not bright enough to light the path. Brotherhoods forged in blood are shattered into a million pieces. I can handle the change, all I want is the truth. Is this really how it all will end? If needed, I can make the choice. A rage fills me that I have rarely felt and I hate what has become of us. I am so afraid, and you know it. Why do you sit there and watch me claw my way through the dark? Please, don't let it come to this. There is so much I want to say. To pour out endlessly to you, but I cannot. And I will not. How do people live like this from day to day? I need to end it. I need to be cleansed from my sins. I need to meet your gaze without guilt or contempt. God knows I'm trying