Saturday 30 November 2013

What use is reason, logic or even wisdom in a world that lacks all three most of the time? You can’t rationalise what makes no sense, and you can’t make sense of people who follow random patterns that lead them nowhere.

“Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go, or when you open the cage to feed them they somehow fly out past you. And the part of you that knows it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices, but still, the place where you live is that much more drab and empty for their departure.” – Stephen King

Friday 29 November 2013

Game over



She, who once was,
Now lies dead in a pool
Of her own blood, 
Killed of her own volition. 

She, who is dead,
Ripped her own heart 
Out of the golden cage 
The world had created for her. 

She died a slow, agonizing death, 
Watching the lifeblood spilled 
Onto the fertile ground, a deathly cradle
From within which she must rise anew.

Dead.
Dead.
Dead.

Sunday 3 November 2013

Ties

"What does that mean—tame?"
"It's an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties."
"To establish ties?"
"Just that," said the fox. "to me, you're still nothing more than a little boy who's just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I'm nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you'll be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world …"

[...]
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near—
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It's your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you…"
"Yes that is so", said the fox.
"But now you're going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes that is so" said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the colour of the wheat fields."
~ From "The Little Prince" by Antoine de St. Exupery