Disclaimer

I might get a little personal and sensitive in this one, so I hope no one gets shock… kidding. This is something I think I owe to my very few, almost extinct readers.

Firstly I would like to say that the blog name is discordant constellations yes a bit lengthy and somewhat hard to spell and even harder to remember. I am aware of that, and at times feel sorry for myself. But that’s not the point, and before I forget my point, it’s called discordant constellations and not Alam. So when you read it just imagine that you’re just reading some anonymous blog or if you’re unable to do that, at least think of it as a work of fiction which is what it really is.

Please don’t come up to me and say things that directly or indirectly give the notion that I may not be as normal or hateful or just plain bitter and negative or even just slightly insane. I assure you that I am actually a very loving, a rather positive person and most important of all healthy both mentally and physically and not too bad on the looks. *hint* (girls)

Well on the negative and somewhat bitter ‘ideology’ that I include in almost every entry of mine some might even think of it as the main ingredient or the only ingredient. That is just to show that I am merely expressing and questioning things that I don’t quite understand, I hope you buy that. And I think that, that writing style suits me.

Writing is a therapy to me; it gives me a pleasant satisfaction every time I complete a story. Okay, one should be good enough I don’t want to express myself too much and risk embarrassing myself.

Lastly, I like to think that I write fiction so I would like you to think that you’re reading fiction instead of thinking of it as a story about me or a session of ranting via bad experiences.

So, I’d like to Thank you readers for being nice to me and (I should know) reluctantly read this very dragging and not as amusing blog.

Thank you.

Necessary Syndromes

I had a friend, his name was Prad. One might think of it as a weird name but It is not a weird name, it is similar to Brad but with a ‘P’ instead of a ‘B’. When I was little and thought of the world as my playground, I had a bunch of other kids whom I called friends and amongst them there was one whom I was closer to than the rest.

I believed that we had an invincible bond of understanding of each others mind and that no matter what we’d be friends and value that forever. This was long before I realized that my world was not just a play ground. I hadn’t know of the true face of the world that I was about to encounter.

The day came… I, my family had plans. I was about to leave the hell that I wasn’t aware of, still thinking of it as a place of sheer joyfulness. This too I would only come to know years after I have left this place And That; I wouldn’t able to live a decent, happy life…. no not here. My mother came to the realization and figured that it was time to leave.

And the world, as usual with its reputation of working in weird ways, once again worked its way. A few days before we left Prad met with an accident and died. Yes-- I was shaken and sad. I was always paranoid of death and of things that I care of drifting away from me. I had nightmares after that and sometimes the overwhelming feeling of paranoia that hurts badly inside.

So we moved, literally moving on-- I am not exaggerating here but this new place was nothing at all like the place I was used to. However, I didn’t bother, it was new and I thought of it as my new playground. That was before we reached our new home. My old home was easily 10 times bigger than this one. The occupants in it didn’t appear as enthusiastic as I was, immediately made me thinking, now that I think about it, it was one of my earliest lesson of growing up.

And just like that everything else I left behind became my past, a vague distant memory.

Here I am a new beginning in a foreign place with foreign people who would teach me about many- many things. I started schooling and realized that I wasn’t looked at as a normal person. I was fun to poke with and so they poked to their delight, being kids oblivious to their actions towards others. Although, I didn’t realize it at that time but I clearly felt the effect. That was when I learned that people judge people.

After a few period of time passing, I realized that my world wasn’t a playground and that it was revealed to me very abruptly, without any warning….the day I left my old ‘playground’. I also realized that I couldn’t find someone to replace my best friend. The people here were different, that was what I said to myself.

Most of the times I dreamed about my past and the experiences that I’ve once experienced, and not all of them were good ones. This one was a painful memory-- Once as I was playing, running around my playground I accidentally hit an enormous wall- glass and it, right in front of my eyes began to drastically fall apart, making a huge shattering noise while it was at it. The huge glass now turned into thousands of small glasses spreading all over the ground. Later few other images appeared in my mind, I call it the aftermath. The adults started blaming each other and started fighting which eventually led to separation. After that, I had a notion about guilt and fear.

I also had a deep cut at the bottom of my back, it scarred me and it became something I was proud of showing off when someone started talking about the event and wanted proof of the story.

I still remember once I was holding this huge rock and when I couldn’t hold it anymore, I let it fall on my right toe, I witnessed my whole nail leaving my toe, I am quite sure it hurt like hell and I cried.

It was lonesome, this new place; I had to create mind games of my own to keep myself entertained. Of course I wasn’t aware of that then but now that I think about it, I am guessing that’s what it was, self made mind games.

It was also weird when before everyone was keen of me…now around here I sensed resentment. I think I know why they acted the way they did. I took it as they were putting up some sort of defense mechanism to the unfamiliarity. Maybe I was disrupting their daily lives. At times when their hate got to me I swore that one day I’d tell them how they treated me.

Among all the lessons I’ve come across this one was an eye opener and perhaps the most painful one: I came to understand that people treated you better when they think that you’re wealthy. 1, I understood why people were keen of me during my ‘playground’ days. 2, it might be the reason why the people here are not very keen of me.

The funny thing was everyone appeared religious and prayed a lot. And appear to have no inclination towards material wealth. I come to think of it as a form of ‘decoration’ to the self and especially to others.

As expected, I was beginning to isolate myself before getting any hints of displeasure. All I could do was think, question and contemplate. I never really did get any answers or solutions but I kept on thinking and questioning anyway.

One day as I walking back home, right beneath the striking sun which at that moment was also showing signs of hatred towards me. Torturing me with its heat and draining the energy out of me. I was walking and sweating badly, looking at the passing cars as I walked, carrying some really heavy books in my bag that was strapped to my shoulders.

I wasn’t eager to reach home so I slowed my pace and took the longer route back. I had this weird feeling that someone was looking at me and would frequently turn around looking for a pair of staring eyes. I didn’t find one.

As I reached a huge building, I was nearing the resting place it was a place where some of the kids whom had to walk back home would sit and rest at the pavement shadowed by huge trees. It was well sheltered and had a safe vibe around it.

As I reached there, before I started my resting session -- I surveyed my surrounding looking for familiar faces and as I was doing that I found a pair of eyes staring directly at my direction. As our eyes met, I was wrapped with fear and this overwhelmingly astonishment which unable me to move for a few moments. I took another look and there was no mistake, it was Prad and I realized that I was still dumbfounded and couldn’t move.

I must be losing my mind, I heard my mind say. He just continued staring, both his palms rested on his cheeks and his elbows planted on his knees, not doing anything else. He was fully focused on staring at me not even blinking. I tried to lift my feet up a little bit and realized that I was able to do so. I started pacing away from him, it was a weird feeling. I’d say feelings because it really was a combination of feelings.

As I got almost 15 feet away from him I glanced back and just like I thought he was still staring at me. I don’t know what came to me but I suddenly had the courage to walk back. I stood right in front of him and slowly announced, “You’re dead.”

I noticed a tiny satisfied smirk on his face as if I re-acted exactly how he thought I would. He then replied, “Do I look dead to you?”

I said: I don’t know, you tell me

He said: I certainly am not now am I? Considering that you are talking and seeing me.

I observed him for a while more--he looked harmless. So I came closer to him and sat beside him. I started raining him with questions and he answered them patiently, that part of him I truly adored, the ability to remain patient and steadily respond.

Soon enough we became friends, once again. He wasn’t the old Prad I knew but still he kept me company which meant a lot to me. He was always there when I needed a friend. I no longer felt all empty inside. And life looked slightly better than it used to.

When we ran out of idea on what to talk about, we always walked around and if there were people, we’d find a hidden spot and observe them. We normally picked a high isolated spot so that we could see everything that was going on beneath us -- The busy cars passing by, people in their houses watching their TV, doing their chores, and not forgetting the people who busied themselves with work even at home.

Often witnessing how people are, Prad liked to imitate his favorite scholars and said with a straight face in a serious tone, “Of all the ridiculous things, it seems to me that the most ridiculous of all is to be busy in the world, to be a man who is prompt for his meals and quick about his work. So when I see a fly perch on the nose of a business man in a crucial moment, or see him splashed by a wagon which passes him in even greater haste, or a roof tile falls and kills him, then I laugh from the bottom of my heart. And how could anyone keep from laughing? What do they accomplish, these busy bodies? Aren’t they like the housewives who in her agitation when the house was on fire saved the fire tongs? What more do they rescue from life’s great conflagration?”

He liked to quote the people he respected and I remember this one because he told me this more than ones—“I saw the meaning of life was to obtain a livelihood, its goal was to become a minor official; that the rich desire of love is to get a wealthy girl; that the blessing of friendship was to help one another in financial difficulties. That wisdom was what the majority took it to be; that enthusiasm consist of making a speech; that it was courage to dare to lose a few dollars; that cordiality in saying ‘you’re welcome’ after a meal that it is piety to go to commune once in a year. This I saw and laughed.”

Of course I didn’t understand what he meant by saying those ‘remarkable words’ as he would like to call it. Funny thing was I had it in my memory all along and now that I am a little more grownup I guess I am able to comprehend what he meant by saying what he said.

As I spent more time in this foreign place, though I wasn’t as happy as I used to be I was slowly adapting and learning their ways. Prad existence was part of my life now, though he only appeared when I was feeling hopeless and lost. I wondered how he knew how I was feeling to suddenly emerge from no where.

I started to have friends now, not close friends but just people who know of my existence. I was happy, I was progressing.

And as more time passed by I grew attached to this bunch of kids and, among the lot I found one who I could tolerate albeit this time it was a girl.

I was beginning to get slowly accepted and I started feeling normal once again despite our differences. One night as I was getting ready to get to bed as a matter of fact I was almost drifting off to sleep-- Prad materialized. He was sitting at the edge of the bed with his legs dangling down. I could see his motion and the outline of his body amidst the darkness.

He had a look in his face which was strange to me and if I am not mistaken it was looked distressed. He quietly took hold of my arm and gripped it firmly. I tried to take it back but his grip was too strong. I was now sitting on my bed in which I started to struggle. He wanted to take me somewhere but he didn’t say where. I was too overwhelmed with fear and uncertain feelings rushing in my head. I was incapable to say anything. He was now standing on the bed with his back facing the wall.

I was by now already standing with him and trying with all my might to fight him off. He was just unnaturally too strong. What I saw next made the hairs behind my neck stand, his back and part of his leg, was slowly fusing in the wall behind him in the darkness. My shock distracted me for a few seconds and Prad took this chance to pull me even harder in it. Most of Prad was already in the wall and I began to feel defeat and give up hope. I was an inch away from the wall with Prad’s hands still on my shoulder.

Losing the will to fight physically I managed to open my mouth this time and vaguely utter the word, no. and just like that I felt the grip loosening and I felt back to my bed and I was so worn out that I wasn’t conscious anymore. The following morning I woke up with bruises and with a terrible headache. I also knew that it was the end of Prad.

When I got out of my bed and out of the room I noticed my mother looking more cheerful than normal. That was a rare sight, I thought to myself. I was sure that something good had happened and when she saw me, she briskly walked to where I was standing and pulled me to a chair nearby and as she sat herself down tried to calm herself down and muttered, “I could see that you’re having difficulty to adapt and settle down here. Well guess what? This is your lucky day-- your aunt Pat just called and said that she want us to live with her and so we are leaving to a (foreign country) different place by next month, cheer up buddy!” she patted me at my back a couple of times and with that she went of with her jolly expression leaving me alone.

'Happy Entry'

I've been wanting to update my blog. But this time i wanted to diversify, be creative and come up with something lighter and maybe brighter.

So far, the closest i've come to is on thinking of an idea on what to write about. This is when I realized that i've reached a dead end before even starting. I simply don't know of anything lively/ positive to write about. Ironically I consider myself as an optimist.

I am now thinking that I don't express myself as freely when it comes to happy, positive things, which is quite unfair to myself and perhaps to others as well. Yes, this is worrying.

A friend of mine once said that I focus too much on the negative aspects of my life. I thought about it, and just maybe might be the reason on why I fail to recognize the good things that happens. I am sure the people who know me in real life are somewhat nodding in agreement, but on a whole that's not entirely true. So yeah, refrain from nodding.

Anyhoo..I'll just stick to the boring whinnings which gives me a feeling of satisfaction and the believe that I've spent my free time productively. Guess what? without realizing it I managed to come up with a new whinny entry to post up. Looking at the bright side, I atleast succeeded in posting up a new entry.

Article

He was sitting on a chair with one leg rested on the edge of the chair and was carefully rubbing some traditional ointment on his swelling leg. People of the east are always rich with their traditional values and remedies/ medications, he thought. Although at times it can be misleading but often it makes you wonder how these people knew about these remedies at their time.

He was in his late 40’s and he felt quite funny getting bruises from playing football. But nevertheless it was a healthy past time and his passion.

After rubbing the bruised part he sat back and he began to feel that his bruise was starting to get attention and it was as if thousands of tiny hands were working hard mending his bruised leg. He began to feel the warmth and the pain started to ease a little.

As he sat there while his leg was mended, he began to feel restless. As usual when someone gets bored their mind tend to drift of to a particular incident or dreams etc. he then stood up, remembering something and went to get a piece of paper which he intended on reading before. It was an old one that he kept in his drawer. It was old and looked a bit yellowish with a mixture of gold with a little rust on the edges.

He then slanted on his chair making himself comfortable and started focusing on the old page that he had read many times before.

It was entitled “The Future Me” and it began: I understand that I am not a full adult yet burdened with obligations and responsibility on his shoulders. But, during these past years I’ve come to realize that my impression of adults has shrunk to an extent where I am beginning to doubt whether they deserve the respect they expect or even get from others.

When I was little I was always told and taught to respect the elders and listen to them. We were never to oppose or question their judgments. But maybe because of that I’d probably assumed that they must have had some sort of wisdom or prowess they had with them and that it had to be more than the age gap.

Perhaps it was different before, men were probably wise and had attributes and values that not only kids but even adults admired. I remembered my first encounters with these so called ‘wise’ adults. The first thing I realized was that they were as lost as I was and it felt as if I was hanging out with friends my age. Where all we talk about is about what we want and ‘what ifs’ or ‘if only’.

Now that I had the chance to meet with them to talk to them and gain knowledge from them, I was curios on how the adult mind operated. Thanks to my line of work that enabled me to sit with them and talk to them. I was ecstatic until I met the first one.

I always had assumed that if I mixed around with more adults I’d be more wise and by socializing with them they might want to help me answer some questions that I don’t know the answer of. Not surprisingly, they weren’t able to. Not only that, I came to understand that they don’t even think of the questions I think of. Which to me are the fundamentals of living. How can one live and not ask questions about their living?

Maybe they’re all just professionals or executives in their fields and as the saying goes, ‘ignorance is bliss’.

It’s no surprise that when an old man old enough to be your grand father drunk as a fly and dancing like a maniac in a prestigious club with body guards around him ready to get him if he falls, makes you think that there must be something missing in his life. Maybe some of you will think that he’s a jolly old fellow but to me to find happiness in such a manner is not adult like.

Does being an adult means getting married, having kids, and being financially stable? Most of what I see nowadays is corrupted people living an artificial life to impress their family, friends and neighbors. Nevertheless family members, friends and neighbors treat you better if you’re as expected. Hence it’s the way people think, their shallow mindset that judge people wrongly.

Their corrupt activities, it’s not called corruption anymore but is considered merely as a gesture/ favor. It is almost as an invincible rule one has to abide to in order to get something in return.

How did this mindset get through in the first place? Was it a conspiracy of some sort, the media or traditions that was set to sink mankind to a degrading unsafe -able level? Or was it just an exemplary way of life taken from other cultures that we’ve got accustomed to?

I read before that a man goes thru a number of stages in his lifetime. Most people I see are stuck at the first stage. I was so obsessed with adults that whenever I had the chance to talk to them I ask them (most of them middle aged), what their purpose in life was and what it meant to them. Thankfully they didn’t get mad, some were mildly aggravated but nonetheless they answered. I realized that they were what their job was and all they had in common was their pride and ego.

Despite all of the bad examples I met a few, mainly one, a man whom I sat and talked for hours with. It was my first contact with a local who was vast with knowledge and experiences. The way he described and explained things were one that only a man with a certain amount of wisdom can. He was the type of person I was looking for and I felt lucky to have talked with him. I never met him again after that. Since then I met a few really nice and gentle ones whom also I had lost in touch with.

I am assuming that once people are done with their academic studies they move on into their working life, period.

A very pleasant lady that I met said to me that, “this is how things are, bow to the power and be accepted as one. That is how you survive here.” I enjoyed talking to her but she mostly talked about her children and her job. She told me about her son who was as the same age as I was and how difficult it was for him to get a job. She also told me about her daughter whom she sends for Japanese classes every weekend. The way she talked and explained was so smooth and graceful that no matter what she talked about, I’d be keen to listen.

One thing I’ve learned from parents was that they are proud of their children and they love to talk about them. No matter who, parents love to talk about their kids.

Finally, I am not concluding that all grownups are immature and shallow in the present. I am also not saying that the younger generations should disrespect their elders. I guess my message is the world would be a better place if its inhabitants were more aware of their home.

He stood up and placed the paper where he found it and reminded himself that he should make a copy of it. His leg was feeling better and he went on with his routine.

The Runaway

Here I am sitting on the peak of a mountain enjoying, the beautiful scenery, the greeneries, the bright blue sky, the fresh air, the atmosphere and everything around me. This is an accomplishment, said a voice inside me.

I woke up lying on the floor with the bed next to me. For a moment there I sat down thinking on how I ended on the floor but it wasn’t that big of a deal so I shoved that thought away. Now that my vision was clear, my thoughts were getting clearer too. I stood up and made the bed, something that I do every morning. After that, I sat on the bed for a moment staring pointlessly ahead and finally I stood up.

After showering and getting dressed as I was getting ready to leave. A sudden suggestion on not wanting to do what I did everyday overwhelmed me. I went back to my bed sitting there thinking of why I felt that way suddenly and if I decided not to go to work then what? Automatically a bunch of thoughts came rushing into my head almost as if encouraging me more. I was lying down now, quietly and carefully thinking. With my eyes closed.

All I felt these few months was to get away for a little while and go somewhere. Yes I was aware that it was a cowardly act and I just wanted to escape from reality. So I almost by instinct called the office and said that I won’t be coming to work for the whole week and I immediately hung up after that. I wasn’t planning on saying that but the words had been uttered and a week is better than a day. Now I was sitting idly thinking on how am I going to execute what I planned on doing.

It’s not that I hate going to the office. This was one of the best moments I’ve ever experienced. There weren’t many jobs to get done and the bosses were busy with their projects and their own important matters. So it was really peaceful and on certain times unusually quiet. And when it rained, it gave out this pleasant feeling.

I finally made up my mind. I always had a liking towards mountains and its mysteriousness. So I decided to go mountain hiking. I had never done that before but I was always good at climbing. So I reassured myself that it wouldn’t be a problem. I began to think that it might be a little scary or a little too brave climbing a mountain all alone but then seeing that all I wanted was to get away. Climbing a mountain all alone seemed like the best idea.

And so I packed some clothes and food that I could find and was on my way to a mountain. After 5 minutes of driving I started hoping that I had planned in advance or at least know which mountain I wanted to climb. So I called up a friend and asked him on where I can find a mountain that wasn’t too difficult to climb. His immediate response was an almost artificially exaggerated, “whaaat?” I explained more and he said, “Drive far enough and you are bound to find one.” I said, oh thanks man you really did help a lot. Surprisingly he answered, “You’re welcome, always there to help.” I felt like tossing the phone for effect but there was no one to see me so I gently placed it back into my pocket.

After 3 hours of driving the voice in my head said, okay, the first thing that looks like a mountain, you are going to stop. This was exactly what I did after driving for an additional hour. It wasn’t easy getting to a mountain; you could see many of them from afar but getting to one is a different matter.

So when I was there, I started walking with my rucksack heading to what appeared to be a mountain. While I was directly beneath it, I decide to go around the mountain and look for an easier path.

As I was walking looking for a starting line, again something in my head said, I am not a narcissistic. I don’t think I am, I said, agreeing with the voice in my head. After a few seconds another similar voice said that, well you probably are, seeing that you’re self absorbed. I realized that it was the same voice in my head speaking only with a different perspective.

It all happened when I met this person who said that I might have problems regarding narcissism. At first I didn’t take it seriously knowing that everyone is narcissistic. That’s the type of world we live in today. Everyone being so self-oriented and selfish, which is only natural, you might say. This is the world we live in today.

I was thinking so hard that I forgot to move, I was standing still. It felt kinda odd standing still in the middle of nowhere, being too absorbed in thinking. It’s a set of characters concerned with self admiration, self regard and self centeredness. That was what it said in the book. These personalities are shaped mainly by social, cultural and environmental factors. The expert also said that narcissistic needs and tendencies are not inherent. But a child can be a potential victim of narcissism if the parents don’t pay proper attention to the child’s feelings.

I looked up at the mountain and it seemed so far-off. I was beginning to contemplate on my plan. But then I shook my head and brushed of the thought from entering my head.

The slopes weren’t that steep and considering that climbing is one of my natural born talents. The other one was destroying stuff. I understand that there’s nothing to be proud of that but it was just something I was good at.

Getting up the peak wasn’t much of a problem except for the fact that it was energy draining. The air was nice and the atmosphere pleasant, it wasn’t too hot that day. I only stopped twice which I am assuming is not bad for a first timer. And when I was almost nearing the peak, the sun was already coming down.

Finally after what seemed like several hours I managed to reach the top. I stood there standing with nothing around me to feast my eyes with. I took out my sleeping bag and drifted of to sleep.

That night I dreamt of a beautiful girl, she was perfect to me in all senses. Everything I ever wanted in a woman was her and she was right in front of me. It all seemed too good to be true and even in my sleep I was aware of that. And every time I came closer to her she would move away a little. And finally she drifted away to a more distant place. I felt exhausted and so I closed my eyes. Soon another scene appeared.

There was an elderly woman and I was standing right in front her and her old shop. The place had a smell of something ancient and stunk a little bit. The floor was damp and it looked dirty. After she lifted up the shutters, the fan, furniture and everything looked ancient. The lady had a ritual every morning she opened for business. She’d start calling names out loud and as she did that she would start filling the empty containers placed on the left corner of her shop by. She held several packets that bore a picture of a cat in her hands. Various cats of different colors and shapes would come running from nowhere for their early morning breakfast. She said to me that she feeds them thrice a day and she complained about how the prices for cat food are costly.

I didn’t want to wake up yet but the piercing light from the sun and heat had me rolling up my sleeping bag. After that I spent Most of the time just sitting and thinking, deeply. It normally ended up in me drifting away and dreaming about something nonsensical or comical I often had to stop myself before I got lost and get back on track.

I was now thinking of my future and as much as I tried to determine my future I realized that I had no power over it and never will. All I can do is keep on working in the present and learn to accept. When I got tired of thinking and the unsatisfactory result that it normally brought out I shifted my attention at the birds, the trees and the flowers. I even stared at space trying to penetrate it.

On my second day there I walked around looking for food and water and I also thought of the people around me and I remembered an elderly person who said, “They’re all traditionalist and people who just follow their ignorant parents steps for generations and each generation becomes more ignorant than the previous ones, even if they’re not aware of it.” He took a deep breath and added, “Especially when they’re not aware of it.”

I was obviously getting bored, for a while there I had an idea of me being similar to a hermit but then living in solitary is not something I wish for in the present. I wasn’t able to find food and was out of food. It was time to climb down.

As I was reaching down something in my head said, the only person that’ll agree with you when you really need something badly is your own self. So that’s the only thing you can rely on, however unreliable that may be.

Solace

One of those days, everyday passes by, so little productivity, held back by mere feelings, like a girl.

Moving the same limbs, the same lingering thoughts occupying the head, knowing a solution, not understanding the situation, thinking but not acting. Over analyzing and coming up with an outcome in the head, puts an end into trying.

The head so restless but the body unable to move, the war between the mind and body. Most of the time not coming up with a solution but introducing more materials of diversions adding more weight and burden.

Danger is everywhere, death can happen anytime, feeling rather safe and sound as if nothing can harm me. I am immortal. Engulfed by the everyday comfort of a private home with little disturbance. Rather taking things for granted but at the same time trying to remind the self of what may happen.

Self pity is a pity; I don’t need your sympathy. She said to him when he showed affection. Being alone with the quiet seems like a perfect combination, taking the things around for granted, until it is gone. Then the quietness becomes hurt and the loneliness pain.

Bringing logic to illogical things is self deception, it is faith not realism. Knowing but not understanding.

Not knowing the fundamentals and haven’t yet reached, knowing the self, as if staring in the mirror, just staring.

THE THREE ANTS

Three ants met on the nose of a man who was lying asleep in the sun. And after they had saluted one another, each according to the custom of his tribe, they stood there conversing.

The first ant said, “These hills and plains are the most barren I have known. I have search all day for a grain of some sort, and there is none to be found.”

Said the second ant, “I too have found nothing, though I have visited every nook and glade. This is, I believe, what my people call the soft moving land, where nothing grows.”

Then the third ant raised his head and said, “My friends, we are standing now on the nose of the supreme Ant, the mighty and infinite Ant, whose body is so great we cannot see it, whose shadow is so vast we cannot trace it, whose voice is so loud we cannot hear it; and he is omnipresent.”

When the third ant spoke thus the other ants looked at each other and laughed.

At that moment the man moved in his sleep and scratched his nose, and the tree ants were crushed.

(Note: This too was written by a real writer and is one that I like.)

My Friend

My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear- a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence.

The “I” in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.

I would not have thee believe in what I say not trust in what I do- for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my deeds thy own hopes in action.

When thou sayest, “The wind bloweth eastward”, I say “Aye, it doth blow eastward”; for I would not have thee know that my mind doth not dwell upon the wind but upon the sea.

Thou canst not understand my seafaring thoughts, nor would I have thee understand. I would be at sea alone.

When it is day with thee, my friend, it is night with me; yet even then I speak of the noontide that dances upon the hills and of the purple shadow that steals its way across the valley; for thou canst not heat the song of my darkness nor see my wings beating against the stars- and I fain would not have thee hear or see. I would be with night alone.

When thou ascendest to thy heaven I descend to my hell-even then thou callest to me across the unbridgeable gulf, “my companion, my comrade’ and I call back to thee, “ my comrade, my companion “- for I would not thy see my Hell. The flame would burn thy eyesight and the smoke would cloud thy nostrils. And I love my Hell too well to have thee visit it. I would be in Hell alone.

Thou lovest truth and beauty and righteouness; and I for thy sake say it is well and seemly to love these things. but in my heart I laugh at thy love. Yet I would not thy see my laughter. I would laugh alone.

My friend, thou art good and cautious and wise; nay, thou art perfect- and I too, speak with thee wisely and cautiously. And yet I am mad. But I mask my madness. I would be mad alone.

My friend, thou art not my friend, but how shall I make thee understand? My path is not thy path, yet together we walk hand in hand.

(Note: this work was written by a poet, not me. I liked it and therefore I posted it.)