Another Looking Glass

I heard a story.

It’s about a girl who sold her integrity for the price of a ‘tweet’.  That’s pretty much it.  To call her insufferable would be one thing.  To sell something so precious for next to nothing is somthing else.

You know the kind of person.  She values money before all else.  The job, car and clothes.  Make sure they all fit the standard.  Though in life standards seem to be a matter of convience.

Today, I saw a guy sell his soul for $2.  That’s in Canadian currency in case you are wondering.  So technically it’s $1.97426 American. Ironically, I was talking with him earlier and he said how much he wanted to be a cop when he can.  He’s even applying to police foundations.

Why are we so eager to sell off pieces of our selves?  Is there a certain infamy and chic factor we inherit when depart from the better parts of ourselves?

It’s ironic as I remember growing up when words like class, etiquette and grooming has weight.  Even stranger still: I’ve been in situations where this currency has brought me up and paid my way where cold hard cash simply fails.

Even stranger, my peers would consider me to be the ‘crazy’ or ‘unpredictable one.’ Ironically, they’ve never had the privilege of sitting at the tables I have.

I guess there’s something to be said for being the only ‘mad man’ in a ‘kingdom of fools.’

Still, I’ve still got my integrity and my pride.  In the end it will take a lot more then the cost of a coffee to make me part from them.

It’s funny. 

I’m learning to watch the ceiling fan as I fall asleep.

It spins around endlessly keeping me quiet, cool and chill.

I can sleep for hours listening to it hum.

I feel like it must have a purpose.

Perhaps, there’s some greater worth I just don’t have.

A function, fixation or a funway to end the universe.

If it were a person it would probably be the content shop keeper on the danforth always glad to see you.  Always with a smile. Preforming the smaller simpler tasks content in their everyday perfection.

If I were a ceiling fan I’d be the one everyone hates, running too fast, running too slow, blowing hot, blowing cold, needing the occassional kick, cuss word or pleading to push me on.  Contemporary chaos pleased in the newness of experience.

I’m learning to watch the ceiling fan as I fall asleep.

Wishing I could be so funny.

I realized it was missing today.

I took a look around and trust me it was no where to be found.

Or was it?

I read through the pages of the Green Lantern Corps: Blackest night.  There’s a story about the Blue Corps.  In case you wonder their power rings are fueled by hope and not willpower.

Story goes the planet’s dieing.  An alien known as Walker takes his family to the top of a mountain to find the planets savior. They trek over hill, over dale and through the jungle to do it.  As he does his family does. Some are killed by poisionous plants, others swept away when a river jumps it’s banks.

I wonder what it must have been like for that character to lose his family one-by-one only to know that

So by the very time he reaches the mountain top where his alien savior lives but ironically the mountain top is vacant.

In a fit of rage he demands of he depends God show him his planets savior.  The lightning flashes and his answer is given.

He returns to his homeland.  The world is disintegrating and chaos ensues.  He talks and continues talking. Eventually people listen. A few at firt then others.  The rioting stops and before the planet is destroyed the sun regenerates itself.

The world is safe and a Blue Lantern Ring selects Walker and makes him the first of the new corps.

I found this story moving.  I was actually touched by Walkers faith and strength in himself even at a point of weakness.

I’m still missing my hope.

I took a look around and trust me it was no where to be found.

Here’s the truth: I’ve been writing a lot.

I’ve been mixing pop-culture with philosophy.  I’ve recived positive feed back, touched other peoples lives and even made a difference along the way.

Here’s the thing: I haven’t been posting it here.  I would, I should, I could but I can’t.  There’s a reason for this: I don’t like to take myself to seriously. 

When you are looking into another looking glass you really can’t.  If you do all the fun evaporates like fish in an amusement park.

So here’s the deal: I’ll try and keep posting more regularly here as well as there.

In the end … who knows we may have so many reflections we won’t know what to do with them.

Cheers,

V.

Johnny learns to crawl
Past the hall 
Where Dad’s been drinking
He knows
To well

That sound
When you hit the ground
And the world burns
Another shade
Of loneliness
And pain

Jenny hides in class
She would dance
If the boys would ask
She knows
To well

That sound
When you hit the ground 
Wearing a tear
And nothing else
Another dance
Of loneliness
And pain.

Taylor dreams of love
But a gun’s enough
To ease the burden
Of loves labor lost
He knows
To well

That sound
When you hit the ground 
Bleeding hearts
And broken needs
Another shot
At loneliness
And pain.

And it’s all just a razors kiss away.
A kind word
Might stay the pain
But sometimes down the hall
It’s just easier to crawl.

A Hyena and Dog were walking in the park,

Said the Hyena to the Dog,

We really aren’t that far a part.

Though I do like to laugh and I do have better spots,

I am ferocious and I am fearless while you … rather are not

I think between us two I am the better one you see

So I know you might balk

But it is better to be a Hyena than a dog

Said the Dog to the Hyena,

Thank you for your kind words, though I doubt they are true

For better you may be, but I know what you do

You claim to be even without a touch of hell

But I know the truth, as I can tell you by your smell

So the Hyena went this way while the Dog went that

Each one thinking they were better,

but neither realizing …

… they were both really cats.

~ Fin.