On Man and Chaos.

On Man and Chaos.
_______________

I do not measure the merits
of a Man by any cause he
claims a willingness to die for,
but rather by the positive way
in which he chooses to live his
Life in service of Others.

Death is (by far) an easier path
to take than this Uncertain Road
of Living, for the mortal body
dies but once, while any Soul that
does not shine with Love dies
endlessly evermore.

I have little admiration for those
sophistic naysayers who profess
to know how to live a Life absent
of chaos, yet my deepest respect
goes to anyone who has discovered
(within themselves) a means by
which to make this chaotic existence
more bearable. They are honest in
their Truth that Man and Chaos are
inseparable, yet bold enough none
the less to embrace Absurdity on its
own terms, without conforming to the
(false) belief that chaos ultimately reigns
the day.

Those aware of chaos are either
Blessed, or Cursed. Blessed if they
accept that Fate is a Mockery in the
Face of Freedom, and thus create
destiny for themselves; ... Cursed
if they fall Victim to repeated cycles
of indoctrination, while bound by
self-slavery to those erroneous
Theologies of Man.

Unfortunately, most slaves are
unwitting, and few reach enligh-
tenment by the devices of their
own reasoning, so that it often
requires another enlightened
soul to endow them with that
"Promethean Flame"; but once
their dreaming eyes awaken to
the possibility of Freedom, they
Will never sleep again.

(But most remain well rested,
and content to be the authors of
their Own Personal Script.)

And so here I am,.. a wanderer
in the process of enlightenment,..
seeking others to enlighten.

Staring boldly into the face of
Chaos, and serving the only cause
worthy of my Hearts Intent.
(Those I Love.)

J.Stephen.H.

The Hermit and His Shadow.

The Hermit and His Shadow.
________________________

My Shadow spoke this morning, in a
roar that (until now) I had formerly
reduced to a state of manageable
whispers, that did not eat away at
my heart one love at a time.

A man who considers himself wise
once told me that since there is
no way of successfully defeating
ones shadow, it's mostly a matter of
compromise. That one must
occasionally "give the beast it's
hour upon the stage" and allow
it to speak and be heard without
ridicule. Then (once it finds suitable
expression in the world) it will return
willfully to that home most rational
men would consider a cage.
_

My Shadow is homeless however,..
a beggar suffering from an addiction
to be known, and craved, and loved
in such a way that the World itself
becomes a substitute for that home
it never had. Thus an hour upon the
stage is like giving a drunkard a sip
of wine he craves by gallons.
No amount of praise, or attention
can fill the hungry void that is My
Shadow.

Because of this, I am a Hermit.
My Home is my prison, and My
Heart is a Wasteland of memories
from a former life when my shadow
was a newborn light singing in joy
beneath the heavenly stars.

I do not congregate with other
Souls, nor allow My Shadow to
mingle with theirs. For to do so would
ensure the destruction of what remains
of my Heart and likely be a plague upon
mankind.

Even in writing this, to an audience that
will never hear it...I feel the dreaded
fiend within me growing to Titanic heights,
drunk on primitive hungers no modern
man could understand. And so I must
make short my work, and sit in silence
beneath Heaven's Starless Void,.. until the rays of
morning light conceal the sorrows of my
bitter Heart. (which is constantly 
consumed one Love at a Time.)

J.Stephen.H.