vive l'interrogation

I hadn't expected this. I don't know what I had thought would have happened but definitely not this.

in my years there I had never seen the insides of that room before, and if I never set eyes on it again I shall die a happy man.
it was cold, unnaturally so. the floor was lined with a discoloured, threadbare worn, cheap carpet as stained as it was old. the walls were bare with the paint peeling in a variety of places. in the dim light of a lone, naked, flickering bulb I could just about make out the silhouette of a flimsy little plastic chair besides an even smaller table.

I shuffled over.

"bonjour monsieur ordinary, asseyez-vous s'il vous plait"

the voice from the darkness seemed to be coming from a severe bun perched on top of an almost inanimate, desiccated and menacing scowl. if she was trying to intimidate me she had failed miserably. I was much too terrified by the entire ordeal to be intimidated by anything in particular.

I heard little else that was said during that meeting, my fear pounding in my chest, pulsing in my ears. I kept thinking, "this is how it all ends. right here, right now"

I remember mumbling responses. I tried to say as little as possible. the less you say, the less you have to remember, right? "self incrimination is the real killer here" that was the other thing going through my mind. apart from that, it was all white noise. white noise and a nasally drone, barking out an interrogation in french of all languages.

I was broken by the time they released me. the clocks around me said I had been detained for twenty minutes. I knew they had been tampered with. it was all part of the trick. the endless mind game.

a few friends, fellow inmates mostly, gathered around. my fractured mind couldn't begin the comprehend their barrage of questions. my tongue was heavy in my mouth and my head pounded on the verge of bursting. and then, as though hearing a stranger speak I heard my own voice saying,

"french oral really isn't that bad, but we'll just have to wait until results day."

mr. what if?

what if the stars above us were dreams waiting to be borne?
what if the cosmos held its breath with stomach taut anticipation, eager preparation for the breadth of your imagination that will bring futures into being?

what if we look too hard for the silver lining?
what if in our pursuit of the best in every situation we lose sight of the magnificence of the cloud that brought us there, the cloud filled to the brim with life giving waters and soul cleansing streams?


what if we didn't let pain cripple us?
what if we saw through our pain and turned our tears into the healing balm that our neighbour so desperately needs?


what if we lived in a world where people loved?
what if with every life we touched we shared value, we communicated importance, we left a finger print of care?

what if dreams, food for our souls, and love were all we needed to truly live?
what if you were that for me and I for you?

would I then be enough?

....what if?

Fear, pride and other mind altering drugs, pt.1

I am infected by an insidious parasite that drains me of creativity and feeds a sense of impending failure. I am accompanied by an almost ever present sense of overwhelming humiliation and crushing shame hovering just beyond the horizon. I am stalked daily by the long shadow of disappointments past claiming my every possible intention of progress. Crippling and restraining, this is my fear.

in you I see a  beauty that profounds me. I am without words and this causes me to be uncomfortable. you see, I am the master of all I survey as long as I can name it, classify it and finds it's place. you, are without classification. magnificence without boundaries, splendor that I fear would only be defiled by my amateurish attempts to describe it. challenged and found wanting, this is my pride.

yet, the sun still shines. unaffected by the triviality of our storms. unstirred by our quests for power, our struggles for significance, our petty mortality. it shines because this is what it does, sans fear, sans pride, whether we like it or not. not seeking approval, it doesn't try, it does.  perhaps it's relentlessness teaches me something, maybe I've learned something from it's stoic persistence. maybe I'm just damned fool enough to think trying anyway will make a difference. so, to the hounds with shame and tongue-tied excuses be damned. this is my hope.

And you, you are my love and you, love, are precious to me.