Archive for November, 2011

Fate of Ghosts

Saturday, November 26th, 2011

I have forgotten why I am here.
I think someone died. It might have been a girl? Or my father? I remember something dear to me that left me a long age ago. Or it was lost?
There was… There is a sense of loss that keeps me. It keeps me here.
Man rose and fought. The east rose against the west. The virus came. People died around me. And then world grew cold as the northern winds conquered the land again with its ancient icy embrace.
But I remained.
Waiting.
Then the spring came as crisp and full of hope as the first sunrise. The land thawed and colour poked its sleepy head out from under the ice. Man resurfaced, rebuilt and the stars came closer as the warm night air made dreams possible.
Was it a dream? A dream I lost? Or a dream I had to find?
There is a single smell I cannot forget. Slightly sweet, slightly… But I cannot recall what it is? Where does it come from?
I think I had a garden once? With a post box. I think I can almost hear a dog barking and see a glint of sharp metal in the moonlight.
Some tried to talk to me. Some heard it when I tried talk back. But the colours changed and moss covered where the highway once ran. Another highway was built over it once the ice had left and eventually beings of metal walked down it with determination.
And then no one ever tried to talk to me anymore.
Still I waited. Lingered. Waiting for something… Something I have forgotten, forgotten what I am waiting for. Were my sister’s eyes blue? Did I have a sister?
Perhaps it was her that died?
The buildings rose again as the dust settled after the next war. Soldiers in different colours screamed around me in a language I could no longer understand. There were women screaming.
A lady screaming.
Was that what I was waiting for? I wish I could remember.
But then she was gone. And so were the soldiers. The bodies became skeletons, the skeletons became dust and the dust blew away. And then the highway disappeared with the dust. The beings of metal fell silent, like statues lost in time.
Above the stars started to grow dim. The sunlight was fading. The sun itself was burning out.
I wish I could remember? Recall any fact. What am I waiting for? Why? Why am I still here?
And then there were no more men and no more women. No children. Man was gone. The earth was quiet.
Everything was still.
Slowly the plants claimed everything as the land moved backwards to what it was long before war and conflict. The skies grew dark and the stars disappeared one by one. The northern winds quietened and the earth held its breath. One last breath.
And then there was a light in the sky.
A single pure light.
It landed near me, humming quietly.
Out of the light stepped beings; strange grey beings that moved slowly like they were under water. They talked or thought amongst themselves. But I could not hear them. They could not see me.
They took dust and pieces of the ages around me back into the vessel of light. They carefully placed pieces of what they found around us into strange boxes. I could see their sadness.
But they could not see me. I tried to call out, but they did not hear me.
Was I waiting for them? Where they coming to find me? Where they trying to find me?
But then I knew that they were leaving.
This planet was dying and there was nothing that they could do.
So they left. The final light, humming quietly, left this planet.
And then the earth died.
Dust began to float up, as the land cracked. Oceans roared in to claim the land. Fish of strange shapes swam briefly past me, but even they eventually died. The oceans turned black and when the earth cracked, the oceans first seeped into the land. The steam preceded the eruptions as the fire reached out to colour the skies red. One final blazing red colour, like the gasping bloody hand of a dying artist. And then the core of the planet itself was torn apart and the world shattered.
Rocks flew away in all directions as the sky became night and night became space. And space became the land. And the land left this place.
Leaving only darkness.
And me.
Alone.
Why am I still here?
Floating in the quiet of space, even my memories of memories have started to become vague. I know I am waiting, but waiting for what?
How did she die and what is her name? Do I miss my father? Are they coming back? What colour… What… What is colour?
But the endless space around me does not answer these questions. The silence of its dark depths mockingly echoes the silence of my own existence.
I have forgotten why I am here, but I cannot leave.
I am waiting for something.

Girl in the Crowd

Saturday, November 26th, 2011

Girl in the Crowd

 

I saw the Kings of Leon this year when they came to Joburg. Besides the music (which was great, by the way; check out my favourite Kings of Leon song here), I’ve always been fascinated by huge collections of people all together for a common purpose.

Crowd dynamics are really something else… Even beyond the obvious social dynamics, crowds at concerts have a level of collective energy that is hard to define. But impossible to deny.

I call the above picture “Girl in the Crowd” and it was taken at the Kings of Leon concert I mentioned earlier.

I’ve tried to capture not just the size, not just the atmosphere, but the individual actions of each of the individuals in the foreground. The guy on the left is talking, the guy on the right is walking and the girl in the crowd is sitting, silently and waiting in anticipation for the start of the concert.

All different, all there sharing the same energy.

Silhouettes

Tuesday, November 22nd, 2011

Soft red hair complimented the sunlight shimmering across her subtle frame with a fragrance like sweet roses. And I remember the time we were kicked out of as cinema, ran away laughing on a hot summers night and ate cold ice-cream on the lonely midnight shore.
The oceans rolled back and forth. Waves broke and reformed.
We made love under the moonlight.
She would make me coffee in the mornings and complain, jokingly, about how I had no sugar or milk in it. I laughed at her and would chide her for the amount of tea she drank.
And the tequila the night before.
The bitter black coffee in my cup would stare up at me. Lapping back and forth as I sipped it, bringing my consciousness out of the soft morning shine and into the waking world.
And we would make love, penetrated by the shy morning sunlight that pierced the gaps in our curtains. Our forms being one, breaking and reforming.
A black crow looked down on me that night. The moonlight did not glimmer in silver, but whispered of darkness.
I remember meeting her parents. The distance and awkwardness as I saw older, critical people sitting across from us. Questions and shouting broke and did not reform, so she cried and we left.
The car drove and drove. The streetlamps became stars shooting past us as the road was the fate of those upon it. And we were the road.
We stopped on a cliff overlooking the ocean. We stopped and, in silence, looked at the stars dancing on the waves of the midnight ocean.
They were rolling back and forth, breaking and reforming.
And we made a tearful love in that car. Her salty tears mingling with my mouth, as I held her quivering form against the cold leather seat and the moonlight played across her pale breasts.
The sun rose, as those days all did. It rolled back and forth, breaking on the shores of memory and reforming against the silhouette of daily life.
And then the silhouette became a shadow.
The shadow became a darkness.
I miss her.
I wish I had never killed her.

Time Shifts

Saturday, November 19th, 2011

Time shifts. And time shifts again. Reality snaps back like nothing changed at all.
Almost nothing.
Overhead cars flow like shooting stars with the neon night, dark and crisp around me. I am cold, but it is not the night air that makes me shiver.
I am standing on an earth that is completely oblivious of the reptilian gods that are coming from their distant dark and cold world. A couple holding hands walks in the distance, completely oblivious of the devious leviathans sleeping far below them on this earth dreaming of the enslavement of all mankind. All the people around me on this earth are completely oblivious of the coming storm that will blow them all away like a fragile falling leaf.
There is blood on my hands.
There is a body at my feet, crumpled where she fell. Her running gear still on. Her head skew and her arm wrapped behind her at a strange angle.
I remind myself of the costs of failure. I remind myself how one life means nothing against the whole of mankind. I remind myself of how my daughter died in the spiral feeds…
But I cannot help bending down and checking the body.
Dead.
Hey! Hey you!” I hear a shout from behind me.
I swing around and see a man coming towards me. His body reads cybernetic implants with some genetic-mods and his attire indicates some sort of official. He will die of cancer in ten years time. This earth still has governmental structures and governmental structures have enforcers of their laws.
“Stay where you are!” he is flying straight at me.
And I remind myself of the costs of failure. I remind myself how one life means nothing against the whole of mankind. I remind myself…
And sigh.
I raise my right hand and activate the bio-circuitry embedded into my shadow mind. I feel a tingle run down my arm as the energy fields warp out beyond my aura, the thin feeble fabric of reality begins to flow towards my will and tendrils of change spread out.
Time shifts. And time shifts again. Reality snaps back like nothing changed at all.
Almost nothing.
The policeman is no more. It is as if he never even existed in the first place. Probably a better fate than death, I remind myself.
She was seven years old when she died. My daughter, that is.
I look up at the night sky and around at the twinkling city of lights and streets and people. Billions of lives all moving towards an unknown finite fate. This does not differentiate this earth from any other earth.
What does differentiate it is the unknown.
On this earth the virus has not broken out and infected the very air that you breathe, the sand has not turned to salt and the trees have not all died. On this earth the oceans have not become tainted as the sun was blotted out by the fallout. On this earth the fire has not fallen from the sky, man has not turned on himself, the dead stay dead and the darkness and light from outer space has not descended upon the land.
What will happen on this earth?
That is the unknown.
But, I am here to stop it.
I take one last look at the body at my feet. She was a healer in this land, but her tools and research would have unleashed one of the ends of an earth. Potentially.
Now she won’t. Now she can’t.
I remind myself of the costs of failure. I remind myself how one life means nothing against the whole of mankind. I remind myself of how my daughter died in the spiral feeds…
She had to die. The lady in front of me, that is.
They all have to.
And then I am gone. It is as if I never was.
Time shifts. And time shifts again. Reality snaps back like nothing changed at all.
Almost nothing.

A Most Underrated Artist

Friday, November 18th, 2011

Those who know me, know that I that I have quite an eclectic musical taste. From classic rock into metal and goth, skipping over to electronic and pop and moving into rap and hip hop. It is of the last type that I wish to write of here and it is of a most underrated artist: Canibus (see Wikipedia entry here).

More important than the man, is what he has created. Meet some of his music:

Now, that is just a few… My advice: listen to the rest.