You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘fate’ tag.

fate

there was

no plan

that day

the blueprint

long faded

the intention

forgotten

the gesture

not

one after another

it carried out

its mission

unscripted

predestined

with no fanfare

the now

took care

of the

then

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extinction-is-forever

They are all dead. All. One by one, and en masse. Dead. The whole lot. Only one left. The human. Now all alone and quite insane, it still survives. Not for long. It roams the barren landscape, breathing acrid air as its lungs slowly shut down. Once standing, it is crawling now, retracing the path of the other animals, oblivious to its own murderous instincts. It still believes it can win. Win what? Soulless and heartless, it continues to think but there is nothing left to think about. And once its mind is completely gone, the human, too, will die. Any moment now. And no maggots left to dispose of its corpse…

Handout picture released by the town council of Chalchicomula showing one of the two mummified corpses found near the peak of the 5,636-metre Pico de Orizaba, also known as the Citlaltepetl volcano, on the border between the states of Veracruz and Puebla, on March 5, 2015. A team of Mexican climbers searching for a frozen body on the country's highest mountain -- and North America's third -- stumbled onto a second mummified cadaver during their expedition on March 5. The 12 local civil protection mountaineers had embarked on their mission after climbers reported seeing a frozen skull 310 metres (1,000 feet) from the peak of the Pico de Orizaba on Monday. The second body was found 150 metres away, and it was also frozen and mummified, said Juan Navarro, mayor of the town of Chalchicomula de Sesma, near the mountain.  AFP PHOTO / CHALCHICOMULA TOWN COUNCIL / HILARIO AGUILAR   ---   RESTRICTED TO EDITORIAL USE - MANDATORY CREDIT "AFP PHOTO / CHALCHICOMULA TOWN COUNCIL / HILARIO AGUILAR" - NO MARKETING NO ADVERTISING CAMPAIGNS - DISTRIBUTED AS A SERVICE TO CLIENTSHILARIO AGUILAR/AFP/Getty Images

Handout picture released by the town council of Chalchicomula showing one of the two mummified corpses found near the peak of the 5,636-metre Pico de Orizaba, also known as the Citlaltepetl volcano, on the border between the states of Veracruz and Puebla, on March 5, 2015. A team of Mexican climbers searching for a frozen body on the country’s highest mountain — and North America’s third — stumbled onto a second mummified cadaver during their expedition on March 5. The 12 local civil protection mountaineers had embarked on their mission after climbers reported seeing a frozen skull 310 metres (1,000 feet) from the peak of the Pico de Orizaba on Monday. The second body was found 150 metres away, and it was also frozen and mummified, said Juan Navarro, mayor of the town of Chalchicomula de Sesma, near the mountain. AFP PHOTO / CHALCHICOMULA TOWN COUNCIL / HILARIO AGUILAR — RESTRICTED TO EDITORIAL USE – MANDATORY CREDIT “AFP PHOTO / CHALCHICOMULA TOWN COUNCIL / HILARIO AGUILAR” – NO MARKETING NO ADVERTISING CAMPAIGNS – DISTRIBUTED AS A SERVICE TO CLIENTSHILARIO AGUILAR/AFP/Getty Images

 

SOMETHING IS PRESSING ON MY MIND

SOMETHING IS WRIGGLING TO THE FRONT

SOMETHING WILL NOT JUST LET ME BE

IT WILL NOT NOT TILL I DIE

SOMETHING IS EATING ME INSIDE

SOMETHING I CAN AND WON’T WITHHOLD

I AM MY OWN WORST CANNIBAL

WITH NO HOPE LEFT NO HOPE AT ALL

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Art: Francis Bacon, Self Portrait

 

Tangled up in filaments of fear

Tripping on hope

Slipping on longing

I stumble and grope in despair

The unknown my hunting ground

Without end

Bordered by death

And life

Tangled up in a web of providence

I release my hold on all

And breathe in anew…

 

©aother

Spider-Webs_1280x1024

The temperature had been rising all day and by the late afternoon the heat was like an unwanted visitor, tiresome, heavy… She felt its weight on her body which, coated in a fine layer of perspiration, seemed to sink deeper and deeper into the wicker chair as if pulled by an unseen force.

She drew a deep breath and run her hands across her chest, spreading the moisture that formed tiny bubbles on her hot skin, slowly, deliberately, as if it were the seed spilled over her by an impatient lover.

The window remained closed, and she stared in resignation at the torn screen. She tried fixing it herself, in vain, as the insects buzzed around her, pushing, jostling to enter the room.

The doorbell broke her reverie, and wrapping the bathrobe around her, she unbolted the door.

He was tall, very tall, and at first her glance rested on his chest. She quickly looked up to meet his gaze, direct, unflinching, dark. He was leaning slightly against the doorframe, already inside in spirit, his body on the brink of movement, suspended.

She led him into the room and stood back as he inspected the window.

©aother