Love is a Losing Game…

 

Tyson

In the redding jail by redding town, there is a pit of shame

and in it lies a wreched man eaten by teeth of flame

in a burning, winding sheet he lies, and his grave has got no name

and until christ calls forth the dead

in silence let him lie

no need to waste a foolish tear

or heed a windy sigh

the man had killed the thing he loved

and so he had to die

and each man kills  the thing he loves

by each let this be heard

some do it with a flattering look

some do it with a word

a coward does it with a kiss

a brave man with a sword

The Law of the Jungle pt.2

Don’t fuck with the prey. If someone dosent want to learn, dont let them.

Respect the prey. They are your allie

Let them do their job.

Everyone gets the first one’s free. As long as it’s a little one.

There is only one true way to deal with a dragon: destroy him before he destroys you.

When you get hit thats when youve got to be calm. A professional fighter has to learn how to hit and not get hit, and at the same time be exciting. Thats what professional boxing is about. Youve got to be clever, youve got to be smart, and not get hit, and when youre able to do this, youre a fighter.

No Coward Soul Is Mine

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heaven’s glories shine,
And Faith shines equal, arming me from Fear.

O God within my breast,
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life, that in me has rest,
As I, undying Life, have power in Thee!.

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men’s hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by Thy infinity,
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality.

With wide-embracing love
Thy Spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.

Though earth and moon were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou wert left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.

There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou -Thou art Being and Breath,
And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

Flashback

 

Today, while searching online, I found a picture of the priest who admisnistered dad’s last rights. I remembered the moments after dad’s death, I stepped to the back of the room, near the only window in the room to let everyone else say what they wanted to. I could see the nurses scurring about their work. At one point, the hallway cleared out, and a man dressed in all black walked down the brightly lit hallway. His black clothes reflected off the white walls, making  it seem as if he were carrying an aire of darkness with him. Step by step, for what seemed like an eternal walk, while carrying a small black bag.

Once he entered the room, the gray haired man took the small messenger bag off his shoulder and set it onto the table that was previously used to hold vitamins and food for dad.  He rested the brown Bible he had onto the table as he draped a white cloth onto his shoulders and let it hang on the front of his shirt.

He read a scripture from the bible and prayed aloud to us, as were his priestly duties. I can’t remember how long we stayed there, or who was the first to leave, or what the reasoning for us leaving was. I do remember telling the guards to tell the guy I signed in with “thanks”. They both knew, as I walked out of the hospital with a large blue bag.  I do remember seeing Shasti park next to me as I was leaving and pointing to the house.

None of the things that happened outside the hospital that day were very importiant.

Shades of Grey

Lately, there hasn’t been much to report. Grandma finds peace of mind in the reclining chair she’s always sat in. It’s in a new spot though. Dad’s old one. Every week, I take a small flag and put it on his grave. I do it to let all who pass know that this is the final resting place of a man who fought for this country. Like the saying goes, “If you can read this, thank a teacher. If it’s in english, thank a veteran.”

I can’t help but feel partially responsible for it. Years ago, he cut his leg on a piece of machinery and caught an infection. This infection led to a heart attack, and may have caused him to develop the Cancer he fought. It might have gained strength during his radiation treatments. It possibly led to the aplastic anemia that killed him.

I knew about it. He showed it to me one day. I saw how bad the cut was, and how abnormally yellow this invading germ was. He didn’t tell anyone else about it.

Although it goes against the first law of the jungle (Take care of yourself first), I could’ve brought it to the attention of somebody. Anybody. Any one of the dozens of family members that come around. But I didn’t.

But after all, the law itself states clearly: “Take care of yourself first”. Trying to hide it to prevent others from nagging about it is a direct violation of the law. It dosen’t help any though.