Thursday, June 17, 2004
From Hell
The long nightmare is over. The veil of darkness has been lifted and the evil shadow that had befallen the land was finally defeated. Life was renewed; friendships remade; the broken were made whole again. As the dawn of a new day broke and a pure light streamed from the heavens, the hobbits paused to ponder how close to disaster Middle-Earth had come - and yet - and yet! The evil foe had been vanquished and from the rubble came a new hope. Victory had smiled upon the hobbits today. From death, through hell, by sacrificing blood, sweath, toil and tears they now had hope. A better hope. A hope for the future that transcends the pain of the past. Truly, they were free. Free at last!
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2 comments:
From: Nehal
I finally managed to get around to having a read of your site after quite a long while.
In light of Hugh's support for Xanga, I might be compelled to agree... the only 'blogger' community I know of consists of one person. The redesign is awesome though, well done Jase. Congrats on adding a long over-due comment system.
It's a shame we couldn't get to see Troy together, although I'm sure you have probably watched it in the cinema by now.
Anyway, got to get back to burning DVD-Rs.
Ciao.
NP
It's a trick. It has to be. Unless you are genuinely unaware of what you do.
You say the nightmare is over. You say the shadow has lifted and that freedom has at long last arrived. What evidence have you? How can the rest of us know?
Maybe it's true. But have you no consideration for those of us who are yet to see the path? While you shout to the heavens about your release, others of us can but grope blindly in our constraining forest, unable to ascertain the direction from which your calls emanate. In our hours of darkness all we can hear are the whoops of triumph as you celebrate your victory.
Perhaps what you say is true and you have escaped. But pay heed to those who have not been able to follow you. Take a moment to consider us, as we have not yet seen the path. While part of our souls can hope to believe that we too might one day be set free, the rest of our spirits are all too nearly crushed by the taunt of what we cannot have. Freedom...
To hear the bird sing outside our cage, knowing that once that bird was one of us. It's such a cliche that it should be crushed, but we cannot even reach it. What did you do differently? Why were you spared? Are you the first of many? Or did you grasp an opportunity to which we in our misery were blind? We want to believe you. We want what you already have. We want there to be a way out, but at the moment it just seems to be getting harder to move.
We must crawl along our path, hoping that the thorns and stones will not go on forever. Maybe one day we can be as free as you, JH, but what if that day never comes?
Or what if you speak the truth, but are yourself in error? Perhaps your rays of sunshine are fleeting and the darkness will descend again. And if it does, can we believe that it will withdraw a second time? How many moments of freedom will we be allowed?
For the present, however, we must envy your freedom and pray for our own to be granted. Unlikely as that prospect seems, it will continue to dance before us, to mock us. For we cannot let it go. It is part of us now.
You have given us hope and we have no choice but to loathe you for it.
Over and out, OK.
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