Sunday 4 January 2009

Eternity, it moved, it was not time, but matter, I smiled, I moved

(Journey in a Broken World )

Article by Marc Aupiais

Darkness, it spread, as the slow sun began to set. A pinkness of hidden weakness, it latently ...touched the sky, a moment of serenity, as below: a single woman stood; vulnerability: it covered her anguished, fearful face. Around, the mystical ...African air, was icy, was cold, and the icy winter freeze: made her shiver. She looked, no, only slightly glanced: up, above: were the stars, and in them were her hopes: distant as life in a fallen world.

She has only existed for a few seconds: only in my thoughts: ...and words as yet: to you, you have not yet read these words. To you, she has not borne, a moment's life: to you,... only an idea: in an author's dreams.

You see, when we describe her deep, dark: entrancing, enchanting eyes, which enter you, with her powerful deified glance: when we describe her soft skin, which shines whitely, hidden in the shadow, the slight sparkle and meekly beautiful glance of her deep dark eyes: when we describe long brown hair, youth and innocence. We breath in: hoping to drink the memory in.

I used to read many books: these days: mostly I read older books, they are better: I read books, of a different sort than many: because they have standards: I can never really empathize with these evil "Good" characters in many a modern work.

I want, and drink in innocent moments, and mystery, and just a slightly infinite goodness: of good : true good: conquering evil: through weakness finding a way to be somehow find some path, or intriguing ingenuity: which makes them become somehow: strong; somehow: powerful.

We love watching, enchanted the innocent overhear, we enjoy so greatly, when they are hiding, sometimes safe and away: but mostly just beyond the certainty of capture, and of certainty with doom ...conquered in the slightest of secret luck.

I love children's novels, and fairytale: we all do: and I cannot stand many a book or modern movie. When the character is not a simple ordinary little person, who does the right thing: or the good and necessary, somehow: ...finding that slight small amount of courage:
...when it is not some good person doing what is right: it really is a pointless watch. I hate especially: when people are made evil: or such: because people do like weakness: we don't like weakness: but those who triumph despite it: not those who seek out evil.

As a child, I would read for hours: I would oft excuse myself from friends: I never wanted to give up my reading time: and spent much of breaks with books, rather than people who I often couldn't quite empathize with.

I love to write: I love the worlds, I am able to create. Softly, carving up a mystery: slowly watching as people take life as it approaches: and barely escape with their life: ...yet in such a way as to do good: or learn of good: so as to do right. I love, when they are still good, still normal at the end, even as they do what is necessary.

God: he too: he ...likes such books: there is ample evidence in the bible: Jesus: who only knew what we needed him to know; the rest he left behind: how else did he have to learn, grow it wisdom, change his mind: how else did he run away to the temple, not knowing he'd offend his beloved mom. His family, was poor, and God: he loved shepherds, and people who were weak. Like their bandage: he sought them out, in their tears: for these tearful eyes knew of their need of him.

His story: is: of an ingenious young man: old as time itself, and: ...of his mother, and his friends:
...the world... it has abandoned good: and they and a small hidden underground of men, children, and women: they join to his soul: and through wisdom, and goodness, and Obedience to Jesus' parents (all four of them; or is it five: God, Mary and his step-father Joseph); a child, now a man: he cannot do what his conscience objects to: and despite fear, despite tears: he does the right thing, and barely makes it through.

You see, God is the author of our world: we do not shout loudly, and violently into the heavens at human authors for writing villains, or obstacles into stories: to hamper characters', and heroic persons': way: especially: we love it when the odds are impossible, and when evil, it seems to triumph: only to melt in the eternity of the living, everlasting justice of the sun.

Let us not judge God, our author: but surely, let us aid him: to do what he wants: to write us: a book: one he'll want to read forever: and God only wants to read books with happy endings: become such a book: become your own Julian, or Nancy Drew: 'cept be the author, and one writ by God. Human books are nice, but his: oh the joy of writing our lives: I give that task to Philomena: my saint; who always writes so well, and to her co-authors in heaven and Earth: do likewise: let them write: but in your turn: remember to solve the mysterious events, come now Nancy Drew, Hardy boy, or Julian: to do what's right; and give your audience something to enjoy: to remember: cause God alone can only write your surrounds: he needs your help to write your life; as much as any author covering it would: only more, and more honestly.

Ask of an adventure; to shock, to awe: I know I have asked for a powerful story of my soul.

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