Tuesday, December 22, 2009

The Scent of Nostalgia (6)

A voyage back to the island of contradictory landscapes when photographs were metaphors of two contrasting colours that blended into mellow gray, and ideals worth fighting for.

We joined the companeros in their mission, escaping the stifling grip of capitalism that tried to hold us back. It called us traitors. But the fictitious island failed to understand that revolutions are universal. We discarded the inherited citizenship that gave us no pride and became exiles by exercising our natural freedom.

Distances (5)

The island with a confused political spectrum has pretended to solve the problem of distances by forming a smothering lilac hue.

On this fictitious island enamoured of greed, the ruling puppets pride themselves on intimidating a nation with the promise of compromise. A supposedly workers' movement abandons the ideology that gives strength to the oppressed and tries to assume political power by ignoring the social conditions that ridicule minorities. The present form of this movement evolved from an organisation of ideals into a group yearning to assume elite status by trying to convince the population that philosophy is an outdated art.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Distances (4)

Distance may turn out to be an equation of conformity and oppression. By complying with a democratic rule that conceals its innate dictatorship, the obligation of voting becomes a chain that drags the citizens into submissive roles. Handing over the power of ruling to the elite few, the citizens fail to understand the initiation of revolutionary thought and contend with the 'gift' of rights, which is the perfect way to eliminate natural freedom.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Distances (3)

The distance that separates our existence from conflicts and suffering runs deeper than alienation. In negating the reality that power strives to deny, the masses that lack a revolutionary fervour are intimidated by political power and enthralled with the honour of voting. The puppets that govern insist that elections and diplomacy are the only avenues that offer sustainable change.



The distance between perceived comfort and conflict lessen when people participating in the parody of elections realise that their contribution to electing a government has served to manacle them to a different kind of oppression - that of having betrayed their freedom to elect a handful of puppets masquerading as leaders.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (20)

In mediocre higher educational institutions, the controllers abhor natural colours and countries, preferring to believe that superiority belongs solely to the fictitious island. Their rhetoric implies acceptance, whilst action is taken to ensure that differing characters are smothered as a safety precaution.



Sometimes, voices are muted for hundreds of days, and the oppressors are happy with their competence in manipulating the universal declarations promoting freedom of expression. When the strength of utterances is regained, the companera does not retreat to fight a losing battle, but embraces metaphors that reach thinkers on neighbouring shores and others as far as the island of contradictory landscapes.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (19)

In the mediocre higher educational institution on the fictitious island, defence is considered a characteristic of the defeated.

The justice practiced is one where conformists are applauded and the segment of revolutionaries are ridiculed and fettered without freedom of speech. The institution prides itself on churning out thinkers, but their product of stamped certificates is a simple recitation of outdated phrases. They uphold charters that define rights in order to murder natural freedom of expression.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

The Scent of Nostalgia (6)

I reiterate that the most powerful aspect of nostalgia is the yearning to have been part of a past beyond one's years. In the glossy photographs, the companeros smile and gaze around victoriously. The least I can do to alleviate my absence is grasp each bequeathed memory and stain it with my fingerprints as a signature of appreciation.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (18)

Justice incorporates and manipulates narrators and their invisible, exiled opponents. it allows deceitful narration to flourish by amalgamating trust and blame into a parody of cooperation. The narrator is exalted for his lies and partially pardoned, while the invisible exile continues to debate a prolonged wait in which time holds a lesser significance.



In an enforced exile, waiting eliminates the possibility of harmony, causing half of the separated entities to find a balance or descend into breeding hatred.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Epilogues (7)

There are epilogues that wallow in waiting. Their existence resembles the metaphor of time embroiled in reminiscence of a voyage that recognises no destination. The vagrant mind is enticed by covering masses of philosophy and cramming relics into the crevices occupied by memories. The epilogue reaches its regeneration in an echo commemorating history, the future and the fervour of revolt.

Administering a Form of Justice (17)

An insidious thought manifests itself in manipulation and lies that serve the administration of justice perfectly. In a volume of technical terms constituting the basis of law, power is given to the authorities to demean and persecute on basis of oath. This form of justice allows lies to bloom with full approval, disregarding integrity by defining a word as utter truth.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice(16)

Sometimes, justice awards its benevolence in a parade depicting fairness and morality, thus shoving to the background the reality of a person who suffers in his quest to attain natural freedom. The benevolence awarded by justice takes the form of freedom from dreary prison cells, from exile, or compensation for the injustices inflicted on a person by others who adore the power of intimidating and ridiculing honesty.



The halls of justice are a parody of their own images. The lenience and disregard for suffering is never justified and no person has been compensated for the years languishing in confinement, for there is nothing equivalent to the time spent tortured into mulling over whether justice is rational enough to recognise innocence in a trial that should have never commenced.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Epilogues (6)

Journeys become relics of metaphors when the author absorbs the music created by seasons, days and realities. The fixed lines on maps bow with reverence to the undocumented paths, forfeiting their illustration to the emblems of inspired wandering. Scattered mosaics and crumbling columns, the strings of a discarded violin, white sand and the monuments that stand to witness the reality of revolutions weave journeys into a tangible music score. When it is performed the signature of its narrator dims, as nostalgia paves the way for recollections to assert their stance in a grey world that fears the brightness of washed colours.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Epilogues (5)

Power believes its own fabrication that epilogues are definite. Oppression, restraint and annihilation of courageous people are classified as accidents, because admitting the truth might cause the unwanted insurrection.

Instead, liars whose only staunch belief is the lure of capitalism appear on pristine screens, dressed in immaculate suits complete with a mask for the undesirable occasion of pathetic apology. They express sorrow at the murders that are described as accidents. Soon, the masks adhere comfortably to their faces, and the puppets forget even the texture of their skin.

I am thinking of whether in all these years, the companero and the rebel singer amalgamated their voices to the patriotic cry they acted upon. Whether their bullet riddled bodies found solace in the earth that reminds them how ideals can never be murdered. And, in my mind, I pay homage to the two epitomes of revolution, and turn to the solace in the written words of the loyal companero on the island of contradictory landscapes.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Epilogues (4)

Years ago, in the masses of land below the island of contradictory landscapes, freedom was murdered in the name of democracy.

Freedom took on the apparition of a rebel singer, whose involvement in dissolving the lies spread by power was portrayed as treason. It was an era when music was dangerous and words hastened to extend their definition to all segments of society. Only the puppets in power feared words. So they ensured their safety by silencing the author.

Once upon a time, the puppets adorned with power captured the revolutionary singer, who scented the air with recollections accompanied by music. The puppets retaliated by puncturing his body with bullets and dumping him into the streets.

Strains of his voice singe the quiet atmosphere and, suddenly, there seems to be no distance between the rebel singer and the companero who lived the cry that roused the masses into active patriotism. It seems they both embraced their destinies, in the same manner the revolutionary singer might have sung about his death ...

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

The Politics of Power (3)

The island that elaborates its identity with a confused spectrum repudiates its obligation towards its citizens. It regales its population with the relics of greed, imposes a culture of alienation that culminates in the parody of democratic elections, and expects the nation to celebrate a victory that will not suit anyone but the assimilating herd entitled 'the elite'.


Perhaps the source of greatest pride for a democratically elected parliament is the security surrounding the elected puppets. Revolutions have been relegated to history, and revolutionaries are branded as traitors for daring to rebel against oppression.


The revolutionaries on the island of contradictory landscapes seem to distant to emulate ...

Saturday, October 24, 2009

The Politics of Power (2)

The survival of power depends on multitudes of minds that do not thrive on the art of questioning. When politics shelter beneath the canopy of indoctrinating and coercing people into abandoning language and philosophy, the people in power rejoice over the victory of avarice.



Elections are won by fraudulent promises - a country warped into fanatically supporting political parties that have failed the promise of stability. The country's population fails to realise that parliament is not the solution to its problem if need, neither is it a supreme body that provides solutions for exploited workers.



Parliament is a cosy nest where puppets perform according to profit. It is also a place where ideals are degraded, revolutionaries silenced by dictatorial rule and the perfect setting for the political spectrum to be shaken into a mass of murky colours. Having the power of a seat in parliament means that left and right embrace each other with an ease that does not befit such radical opposition.



But parliament is also the place where opposition can mellow itself into a farce, appeasing those gullible enough to vote with reassurances of the party reaching out to its followers and critics. When the left is only too willing to court the right, all that remains of socialism is an ideal that does not fit into progressive politics.



It is shameful that leftist opposition parties can still shelter under the revolutionary concept of socialism, when all they do is seek ways of obtaining the majority at the expense of betrayal.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Scent of Nostalgia (5)

Quoting a companera, "I also feel nostalgic ... for an era where people had ideals and walked the talk. For people who showed courage and despised cowardice."

Nostalgia reeked of a profound desire to determine change. In its canvas, I traced storms over the seas surrounding the island of contradictory landscapes. The trampled leaves were proud to bear the inscription of the revolution, whispering to me about the cluster of thinkers who revered the endearing definition of companeros.

Pursuing the sepia painting once again, I saw the singer transform into the role of bringing the revolution to the people, the writers defining the revolutionaries as complete beings, and I searched for an expression that would define the emptiness of a contemporary era that ridiculed history and defamed revolution with degrading contempt.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

The Anonymous Artist (3)

The decade that caused her to despair had long since evaporated into the vagueness of days that lose their importance, when the hours that followed enabled her to dissect the ruthless words slapping her face. Each word stuttered alone, losing its vicious coherence, and the coveted illustration that defined an occupation adorned her name in defiance of the monster that ridiculed her intellect.

Even the turquoise eyes had faded into oblivion.

The relics remaining cowered before the conviction that surged through her fascination with the land of contradictory landscapes. They realised that her freedom remained unclassified by their psychological terminology, because of their arrogant failure to understand that natural freedom does not submit to a mediocre authority.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

The Anonymous Artist (2)

A decade ago, the anonymous artist rested her elbows on that same window ledge, in the squalid flats where garish colours paraded their monstrosity before the scent of ploughed fields across the road. Protest songs blared in her ears, deafening her senses to the cold wind slapping her cheeks, as she followed the rebel singers into their search to commemorate history into a culture of remembrance.

The history she was enamoured of did not regard the countries that regaled her with the burden of citizenship. It was a country whose identity was hidden under misconceptions - the island of contradictory landscapes in a sea that witnessed the revolution of resistance. Poring over the faded photos of people swarming in the streets, the anonymous faces greeted her with a gesture of friendship and inclusion. Her mind swelled with appreciation and became a vagrant of past celebrations and mourning ... memories deflecting between triumph and the actual revelation of a slogan that implied resistance until death.

I wondered what memories inhabited the memory of loyalty through the years of solitude...

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Epilogues (3)

The embodiment of loyalty that she adhered to was millions of waves away from the island witnessing her descent into memory. She devoured books to immerse herself in the past belonging to the island of contradictory landscapes to escape the other island that shackles its citizens with the chains of false democracy.

As she turned into the quiet alley, with its ancient street lamps emitting their amber light, the man of the revolution appeared beside her, guiding her mind to the literature that liberated minds from the obligations of meek surrender.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Che Guevara Songs

Che Guevara Songs

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Epilogues (2)

When an epilogue reaches the concept of ideals, those who shun history are eager to applaud as threadbare drapes descend to alienate revolution from the politics of mismanaged power.

An era that calls for an epilogue in revolutions is calling for the destruction of philosophy. Power is dependent on an ignorant society - a society happy to believe that voting for the chosen puppets is a fair option. There are no options in a parody of inclusion that already limits choice.

The tangible epilogue of contemporary society is its lack of appreciation of revolt. Society has been indoctrinated into forfeiting its right to think and contradict the rules, because submission enhances the power of a ruling dictatorship that hides behind the fallacy of government and opposition parties.

However, epilogues retain their transcendent quality when they salute the thinkers. Loyalty towards a revolutionary ideology for a common unity does not surrender to inferior political trends. Epilogues that reek of hope embrace the masses that shun conformity to enhance history with the making of a continuous, historical revolution.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Epilogues (1)

A distant echo of dry leaves scattered on paths blended with my desolation. The voyage had been terminated by a reality that thrived on conformity, and I was expected to conform to the notion that this reality was a necessity. That the reality of epilogues was an absolute end.

My time spent on the island of contradictory landscapes taught me that epilogues are the necessary foundations for the process of continuation. The past held the scent of new beginnings, and names etched in history were slivers of reality depending on memory to survive. Narratives gained an identity in an epilogue that was either absolute in its termination, or else allowed the author and reader to wallow in a lake of possibilities.

I was enamoured of a fictitious reality that was intelligent enough to discern between the concepts of suffering to be free, and the freedom that comes from conviction.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Diary of a Companera - Epilogue

The voyage reached an epilogue that commenced at the dreaded destination. On the island that tortures colours with its imitation of creativity, the companera concealed her knowledge of a common unity. She preserved the definition of her name in the books that led her to the island of contradictory landscapes.

The companero was writing with a steady hand, embroidering cascades of yellowish paper with his calligraphy. The scent of his words wafted to her room in wisps of delicate clouds.

He never concealed his name. It was the embodiment of loyalty.

Administrating a Form of Justice (15)

Justice incarcerates freedom. The concept of impounding fear is a resilient force in the marble halls, and a truthful, defiant denial is considered as lack of cooperation.

Justice fails when it deems its laws to be the highest command for the masses.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

The Anonymous Artist

The tattered ribbons woven into her hair were a reminder of the exile she had endured. In years belonging to a past that reeked of assimilation, the artist was not even allowed to feign conformity. She beheld people glaring at her books, heard rude voices ridiculing her opinion, and was finally condemned in a trial that deemed her void of intellect

The books on the shelf that witnessed her verdict crumpled their pages in shame.

The anonymous artist stifled her art for a period extending over thousands of days. Her dreams no longer held the scent of sepia portraits, and the mundane reality thrived on electrocuting her senses. Her eyes had repudiated their mahogany hues, becoming listless organs of sight in a haggard face. Only the relics of metaphors remained. The metaphors were disrobed of their unique meaning, and pleaded with the artist to mould their language into a definition that would defy the manipulative traitors.

Finally liberated from the shackles that destroyed her expression, she sought to live through metaphors that retained all the mystery of sepia, but also harboured the force to combat the denigration of ideals.

"There's no such things as dreamers, and you can take that from a dreamer who's had the privilege of seeing realities that he was never even capable of dreaming." FIDEL CASTRO

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The Politics of Power

The era that shoves millions of minutes into deep ravines has ridiculed those eager to enter the blurred spectrum of colours. On the island of conformity, dreamers hide and dissidents conceal their knowledge of language and memory. The scavenging, democratic phase of rule obliterated the cry of resentment with the vague promise of social inclusion.

What is common knowledge to dissidents and complacent throngs in society is that elections do not harbour change. Dissidents act upon this knowledge by refusing to be goaded into a majority counting exercise. The complacent throngs appease the unyielding rulers by smothering their complaints and hastening to the polls.

Society empowers politicians by its complacence. If the political puppets thrive on elections to survive, a greater force must be born, enabling the masses to divest politics of its power. If intellect and courage are nurtured, the people will gradually realise that weakness and exploitation are governing their lives. Exploitation allows the masters of indoctrination to live in opulence and safety. opulence breeds greed, and greed breeds power in the hands of the unworthy.

Political power divests society of natural freedom, and forces people to cast themselves into servitude, making them seem unworthy of attention or dignity. Need becomes intrinsic and achieves the acknowledgement as a commodity to be abused by people in power.

The Myths and Realities of Educational Institutions (2)

Within the hazy confines of unrestricted memory, elation triumphs over the apprehension caused by decision making.

Once upon a time, at the institution of mediocrity, a student with the markings of a silent dissident was coerced into accepting the absolute certainty that the exalted elite were immune to chastisement.

(The myth)
The student was supposed to widen her knowledge through extensive reading and participating in discussions. "You have to read and form opinions to obtain a degree, " was the blatant lie that greeted prospective students.

(The reality)
Once the initiation wore off, timetables became printed fixtures, and lectures were the culmination of banal rhetoric. The dissident read books that pointed out the flaws of democracy. In retribution, democracy proclaimed her downfall as the result of a majority forcing the minority to an abominable surrender.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (14)

An innocent narrator is sometimes forced to adopt an exiled stance.

For an advocate in favour of eliminating borders, the situation of the exiled narrator dampens the rebel's inspiration to ponder such an inconceivable philosophy. There is not a single act of triumph that does not wallow in revenge.

In the case of the innocent narrator,the defensive exile may commence out of fear, but will later evolve into a stance to defend natural freedom.

Administering a Form of Justice (13)

Justice loves to celebrate its ignorance.

The laws upholding its subtle dishonesty provide fodder for minds unburdened with the power of thought. Situations and persons are amalgamated into 'suspicious circumstances', with the intention of stereotyping characters as dangerous or delinquent.

It is simple for the laws endorsed by governments in the name of justice to taint individuals with a lingering mistrust. When laws allow guilt to take precedence over innocence, the sunned narrator is relegated to a position in which his voice is bludgeoned into oblivion.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The Myths and Realities of Educational Institutions

1. The first myth of oppressive educational institutions is that each student is appreciated and entitled to individuality, respect and personal opinion.


2. The second myth is that students are granted the freedom to express ideas without fearing retaliation.


What happens beneath the facade of this hegemony.

Students are manipulated into believing that their worth is valued by the dictators parroting their limited knowledge. When students voice their opinions, they are generally met by a patronising attitude. If a student dares to illustrate an ideology into writing, the testimony of individual thought vanishes mysteriously.

Educational institutions are the censorship of ideas. Students are expected to assimilate, allow their minds to be coerced by a powerful hierarchy and be the bearers and promoters of the ruling puppets that sustain themselves with manipulating minds. Educational institutions do not support revolutionary action - they harbour an innate fear against those opposing their selfish attitude. This exploitation is sanctioned by the malfunctioning form of democracy that prides itself on a mediocre majority.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (12)

Trust is an essential element in any betrayal.

1. It is foolish to place your trust in educational institutions that refuse to recognise your intellect and individuality. The result is maimed self-confidence and years wasted either through accommodating the hypocrites who rule, or else rebelling once you realise there is nothing left to lose.

2. It is an abomination to believe that good deeds are rewarded by other good deeds. A step to eliminate this misleading belief would be to murder the idioms that insist on such warped thinking.

3. There is no real justice in those who uphold democracy as a perfect system. Such people do not acknowledge minorities and individual political beliefs.

4. People should never place their trust in the tarnished halls that uphold the definition of justice. When an oath taken is considered to be undisputed truth according to abominable laws, it sends out a macabre warning to all people - there is no sincerity and truth seeking in such a manipulative system.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (11)

There is a barren island in a smothering sea, which prides itself on upholding righteousness to safeguard the freedom of its gullible citizens.

On this island, justice deviates in many ways, and one of the most conniving methods to keep minds incarcerated by flawed laws is that of slander.

Story tellers are appreciated by justice and they are rewarded for their warped, imaginative plots. They are considered honest citizens for complying with legislation, and justice bestows its honour on the unworthy.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The Theft of Memory (3)

Democracy is opposed to revolutions. The reason behind the opposition is that in a revolution by the masses, it is not the throngs of power that decide where hypocrisy and degradation are emanating from.

Democracy is a dictatorship of parties that pretend to oppose each other for the sake of creating the illusion of balance between power and the oppressed. The reality is that democracy does not present an unrestricted choice.

Democracy usurps memory by presenting elections as the only just way for power to assume its dictatorship. In the nation's quest to assert its conditioned opinion, many do not realise that elections are a tool used by democracy to relegate revolutions to a vague, outdated term. Elections are portrayed by people in power as the means for the citizens to assert their opinion. When people protest and refuse to take part in such mediocre practices, we get the rhetoric of 'the electorate is not acting upon its given right to choose a government'.

The people who refuse to vote are the revolutionaries who do not accept concessions as rights. Revolutionaries do not compromise in order to allow power to extend its dominion over their intellect.

Revolutionaries do not wait for parliament to lament about bad policies and disgusting governance. They have the power of memory and intellect to decide all that for themselves, because they are the ones who clung tenaciously to the relation between language and memory.

The Theft of Memory (2)

One of the aims in a corrupt democracy is to obliterate recollections in order to assume total control over the citizens.

People who allow memory to escape the confines of consciousness are relegating their identity to phrases void of language.

The relation of language to memory is essential in contributing towards the importance of history as the means of persevering against the injustice of democracy.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Theft of Memory

In a malfunctioning democracy, people are inundated with the language of progress, continuity and radical change. The nation watches the parody of rule congregate to sustain the definition of democratic elections.

When the definition of democracy becomes a routine exercise, memories dim and slither into pits to mingle with silent intonations. With the waning of history, people discover themselves within a new identity that is too shallow to harbour anything but the stilted present seconds that evaporate with time.

Administering a Form of Justice (10)

The mind forgets rationality when a form of justice is seemingly unable to comprehend its confusion.

In such an instance, the invisible narrator is lost in the events fabricated around him. Logic is drowned in applause and deafening hammering, and the gap between sanity and coercion narrows to a flimsy threshold, beneath which are lies intent on butchering logic and smothering it in doubt.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (9)

An erroneous belief that clouds perception is that justice constitutes an element of truth. Coercing individuals to utter words of honour is part of the drama unfolding during months of accumulated fables. These feeble tales are unworthy of narration, and the intonation falters but, since honour has been declared, the words impress and betray wisdom

Justice erodes patience and plagues innocence with helplessness. It serenades with time, oblivious to suffering and hibernates in its decadent glory. At the final encore, its harsh tones emit a pronunciation of incomprehensible words that condemn a mind to sever itself from fulfillment.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Distances (2)

There is a distance swathed in sand, with gentle colours lapping at its shores. The continent beckons with increasing insistence, while the island whines piteously, shackled by an identity mired in confusion and a system that prides itself on defamation.

It is a narration without a definite ending, thrashing in an abyss that rears with vengeance and subsides without a tremor. The distance is no longer the attainable memory of past years; it is now burdened with deciding a future that cannot hasten to rebel with defiance. Distance has succumbed to the identity of confusion that emanates from the island of rhetoric.

Administering a Form of Justice (8)

Treachery occurs when a fabricated story is spouted under the patronage of justice. Justice abides by its malfunctioning judgement of believing oaths to be absolute truth, rather than discerning the nature of a storyteller intent on garnering applause at the expense of defaming an invisible character.



When the story reaches its epilogue, justice declines to ponder an alternate ending and soothes its conscience with obliterating the obligation of fairness.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

The Psychology of Power

Power has a staunch belief in being able to survive through intimidating practices. When this corruption is exhausted, it starts accumulating enough arrogance to claim control over language. There is one flaw, however. Power deems itself superior to the intelligence of people but, with time, people learn how to dissect a sentence and do not expect to find any genuine purpose in the uttered words.

Power is a lie that weakens with opposition from those who respect language as a medium of truth, not a tool to be manipulated with selfish intent.

It revels in creating and highlighting differences in society by addressing the nation in sections - creating the distinction between social classes to eradicate respect.

This lie limits itself to constructing boundaries, chaining workers to accept conditions that do not satisfy the created needs. Power feels most at ease when the wronged complain of their misfortune to the usurpers of natural freedom.

Power is limited. Its dictionary consists of a mere three volumes detailing the definition of capitalism, colonialism and consumerism.

Defeating power harbours a message to return the gift of freedom to the masses. Defeating power will allow language to flourish, ideals to survive and revolution to triumph.

"If you tremble indignation at every injustice, then you are a comrade of mine." Ernesto Che Guevara.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Diary of a Companera (4)

Reclaiming ownership on a voyage of identity presented a wonderful opportunity to challenge the insignificance of citizenship in relation to the self. My mind opposed the sovereignty of borders, as they presented an obstacle to the concept of revolution that should encompass humanity. The masses were fettered in fragmented lands, intent on preserving a notion defined as 'national heritage'.

The masses are being indoctrinated into supporting causes that power needs to defend. There is no mention of distributing thought, for abstract concepts are declared treacherous by the ruling crowd.

In the mellow twilight, i behold other pens intent on engraving ideals on paper, and the monument of revolution trembles. there is a trickle of moisture dampening its texture, and my belief that ideals transcend the world of futile dreams consolidates. There is not a single comrade who claims not to be affected by the names who made past revolutions possible, but certainty lies in a revolution that is pursued through knowledge, and with the determination that forbids political entities to become an infested, collective conscience.

Identity of a Companera (3)

When the companera looks back on the perilous past, there are no relics that comfort her mind with the conviction she believed had surrounded her. Eight years ago, capitalism and its selective throngs of power compelled her memory to rebel and generate defiance. She was a silhouette in a group of activists.

The companera was united with her former dissident identity after years of constructing safe havens and discerning hues of shadows. A few of the activists had become enamoured of usurping power, and defected to safety, disregarding the ideals of unyielding protests.

In the silence emanating from her return, the companera denounced popular theories. She pledged allegiance to the politics of common good and aspirations; upholding knowledge and denouncing the ambition that placed opposing puppets as guardians of the nation's mind.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

A Note of Caution from the Companera

Protecting individuality and language is necessary throughout the ordeal of becoming a dissident. The mediocre puppets will try to lacerate your language to proclaim you unworthy of uttering a defence. Feign muteness and strengthen articulation by attending to calligraphy and practising oration.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Diary of a Companera (3)

The monument of revolution emanated silent definitions of dissidence. It insisted on renouncing the submissive identity that education bestowed upon humanity.

On the fictitious island of compromise, education banned thought and opinion. In the highest institutions of perforated knowledge, puppet philosophers intimidated seekers of thought, coercing the to abandon their quest of forming new theories. Under the fallacious notion of nurturing intellect, the puppets forbade the formulation of opinion.

To be a dissident on the island of compromise, one has to enter the institution of mediocrity, allow the principal performers to proclaim your worthlessness and agree to adhere to fabricated regulations that will deem you a failure in spite of your intellect.

The nest step is to allow the pretentious performers to patronise you. Look at their painted faces, or gaze at the speckled tiles and pretend to admit your surrender. When it is your turn to accept their compromise, decline their generosity and defend your intellect. This will earn you a number of degrading adjectives, the least of which will be 'Ungrateful'.

Once you have traipsed through the abomination, resign yourself to achieve only failures during your last months at the institution of mediocrity. This is the ultimate step n setting your signature as a possible future dissident. Take pride in waiting four years without obtaining a compromised certificate.

Having journeyed through these circumstances, you will finally gain acknowledgement and citizenship in the island of contradictory landscapes.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Identity of a Companera (2)

The companera is a stranger to individuality through motives that unite the self with defending common causes. She maps a voyage with incessant fervour, and measures progress with an urge devoid of gain and brimming with ideals.

In her travels, she visits the square that pays homage to revolution, and listens to an orator defamed by history and present. The masses are rapt, but the companera moves restlessly until she can discern the eyes of the intellectual rebel explaining the wisdom neglected by masquerading powers.

Administering a Form of Justice (7)

In the absence of fairness, justice is exceptional in slandering reputation.

An imaginary face once listened to a verdict that paralysed her memory, according to the prediction she was forced to absorb. Butchering the attachment between identity and memory, knowledge became an abstract unattainable commodity, bestowed on those who complied with the rules of submission. When the face succumbed to intimidation, knowledge mocked her and repudiated her mind.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Diary of a Companera (2)

There is an eagerness to incline towards apathy - always a comfortable distance separating fulfilled lives from that of a harassed identity mired in a circumstance that time renders tediously normal. When solitude embraces you with compassion, the butterflies disturbing the breeze with their fluttering wings become a parody of truth.

The paper faces melt in the rain, and the echoes soothe only their alienated owners, sheltering them with blissful oblivion.

Identity of a Companera (1)

Far away, on the island of contradictory landscapes, the companera eliminated all traces of the land which imprisoned her memory. She abandoned the quest of changing her name, deciding instead to strenghten the meaning of wise protection.

The next time I spied her silhouette, she was weeping at the monument of revolution.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Diary of a Companera (1)

Littering the pavements are relics of paper faces that visited a garden of tulips to immerse themselves in imaginary fragrance. The smiles stretching the faces dim with twilight, reluctant to identify with language or relation.

There is a degree of comfort in isolation. The companera tastes the scent of exile, and banishes herself to the island of contradictory landscapes.

Reality, Rights and Revolution

In malfunctioning democracies, reality and revolution present a contradiction that is stifled instead of accepted as a complementary need.

Any discrepancy between reality and revolution should be eliminated. Reality produces barbarous conditions that soothes its misgivings with regaling rights to the oppressed. Revolution is the means to combat greed and ensure the eradication of accumulated wealth at the expense of common, scorned citizens.

When governments presiding over these ailing democracies seek to indoctrinate our intellect with erroneous information, their ultimate aim is to create nations that sever their freedom to incline towards knowledge. A submissive nation is one that forfeits natural freedom when it hastens to serve the anointed powers that decide what concessions should be bestowed; disguised under a term derived from a decadent, diplomatic dictionary.

'Rights' lull individuals into a false sense of reassurance. The main aim behind this parcelled rigmarole is that of alienation. the seeker of rights becomes so engrossed in the quest, that he fails to realise he is providing fodder for structured laws to prey on people's freedom.

Thus, reality and revolution are two contrasting themes yearning to be united. primarily, revolution is an inspiration that entices individuals to seek knowledge. Once that knowledge is immersed in our minds, we should start questioning the negotiation of natural freedom as the first step to changing a fragment of our reality.

Our reality creates the need for dissidence. Dissidence should be embraced to defend and save our dignity, intellect and humanity.

"Constantly denouncing the government, with contempt for the risks and dangers, is like a whip in the hands of a lion tamer." FIDEL CASTRO

Administering a Form of Justice (6)

The fabrication of justice is prone to conceiving discrimination more than any other existent terminology.

This perfidious term basks in the shimmering tears of those wronged by the spectres of righteousness and slander. Unlike the reckless scent of revolution, the misshapen form of justice is soothed only by misquoting a defence to produce calculated motives.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (5)

There are halls brimming with contradictions and malevolence that thrive on forging names into differentiated signatures.

In these pristine buildings, there are persons entrusted with the occupation of eliminating the relationship between name and identity.

Tattered documents are considered a forbidden, perilous treasure.

The illusion of justice strengthens as it becomes a parody of truth.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (4)

The varied forms of justice practiced by malfunctioning institutions are a perfect weapon for crippling lives.

Sometimes, people find themselves facing an apparition that threatens them with equity in the face of injustice. They are unable to utter that, in certain circumstances, the notion of equality is a condescending manner with which power glorifies its macabre reign.

But there is one form of warped justice still cloistered in glass cases, reverberating with each second pounding in the laceration of a historical encounter with the incarnation of discriminative democracy.

The deformed, malfunctioning premise was able to destroy and abuse terminology in a manner that left no trace of individual esteem. It enhanced and glorified the injustice of democracy which, after all, allowed the predator to violate natural freedom and gloat in the spectacle of a solitary splinter unable to defend its reason.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

The Scent of Nostalgia (4)

When betrayal seeps through wounded ideologies, it creates the illusion of tattered pages brimming with defiant words.

In this instance, there is no other path for the revolutionary, but to exile his existence outside the vicious cacophony of cowardice. The revolutionary will not incline towards the institutions that practice routine discrimination and betrayal. Neither will he accept a compromise in which revolutionary identity is polluted and relegated to a battered icon that is patronized by authorities.

The revolutionary does not coerce. He inspires until the fervour culminates into ideas that transcend the hypocrisy of imposed power, enticing the oppressor to experience a humiliating defeat. Oppressors will mourn their own descent in solitude, decaying amongst their own chartered laws of pungent opulence.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Realities (2)

Reality constrains truths more than the volatile world of dreams. There is one illusion in reality which overshadows the motives behind certain gestures of generosity. One that is exposed by posing for photographs.

Reality shrouds the world in acquiescence and lulls the masses into a reverie of hopeless reflections. Whenever a group of individuals shake off the slumber, there is always someone from the throngs of power ready to subdue a new voice and justify poverty, famines, illiteracy, wars with a tinge of false lament.

There is nothing more enchanting and self satisfying for people on gilded thrones than looking on suffering as a means to extend a helping hand brimming with snide altruism.

Even this type of generosity is overshadowed by the vestige of 'honour'; a forced reminder of slavery bowing to the striding monuments priding themselves on ceremonies of ribbon shredding and memorial disrobing.

It is indeed folly to believe that tailored suits, flashing lights, glossy photographs and diplomatic speeches matter much to those who experience the harshest forms of reality.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Realities

There are more realities than those our minds are enslaved to fathom. A reality consists of experience and observation - a circumstance thwarted and produced by separate instances experienced by individuals, societies, people and nations that does not necessarily constitute a collective experience. The multitude of observation and participation make reality a global phenomenon.

The dreamer who is forced to negate his character acts through inspiration mired in delusion. The dreamer is loyal to ideals and rebels against outcomes, especially if those outcomes are enslaved by need. The dreamer participates in various realities due to his responsibility to contribute towards change.

When the revolutionary is born, he provides dreamers with the ability to reconcile realities and dreams through the fervour of imagining and implementing change.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Distances

A distance that feeds on seconds is more powerful than a planned departure.

There is a distance that separates, and a distance that exiles.

The exile is cloistered in freedom, and relegates experience to a glorious wound gaping in photographs. Exile is a distinguished distance that exudes enchantment for the spectator, culminating in an uproar of wonder or revulsion.

The distance that separates causes a person to wallow in thoughts, and mires the mind in unfulfilled obligations. This type of distance emits a deafening silence which the world does not heed. In the aftermath of apathy, the person bound by a separating distance shatters the bonds that chain him to an existence ruled by the fallacy of justice, and tries to mingle his distance with that of the exile.

The outcome is one where the distanced, separate exile is in a position to ridicule obligations. Unlike the exiled individual, who has the autonomy to create a fervour in his favour, the former is a hermit who will have to contend with the false verdict of justice to reconcile the self with the mind.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Horizons

Maybe there is a land adorning a distant sea, where minds unite in a phenomenon that discards the concept of power as a democratic exercise that shackles our minds with obligations.


A land where the struggle against power is a kaleidoscope of unity.


A land which relegates opportunism and diplomacy to a diminished scale.


We would retain in memory the honest insurrection of those who shun opulence, favouring toil instead of gilded halls and preferential treatment.


If the waves lapping gently at the shores of history invite my mind to this serenity, I would hasten to cram the relics of genuine inspiration to combat the swamp of popular ideologies that would deteriorate without the gullible sentiment fettered to boost their stature.


When twilight seeps through, the island is bathed in shadows and light, retaining its fictional identity until the moment when nations are ready to challenge the notions of borders and politics, freeing themselves from the ridiculous pantomime they are bound to serve.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

The Scent of Nostalgia (3)

Travels, especially those conducted in spirit, tend to fuse with ink to create a new calligraphy.

It is not the pristine sand clinging to my toes, or the scent of dry grass that cherishes my footsteps on the paths beckoning to me. The voyages that remain to be taken are emblazoned in future memory, sometimes chiding a reluctant vision to emerge out of the dreary monotony to sparkle with the fervour of an insurrection that springs forth from dejection.

There are voyages that vanquish judgement, and others that reap them in an uncommon framework to dazzle with the certainty of a revolution that fuses ideology in spirit.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

The Scent of Nostalgia (2)

The reality of nostalgia reeks of unkempt gardens, reaching pristine perfection to distort it with truth. A nostalgic memory is a relic of revolution; unfettered and resilient, with an intrinsic ability to flaunt the spurious invasion of stale rhetoric.


Nostalgia sustains ideals, and ridicules the oppressive stance that emulates pride rather than honesty. To the dreamer, nostalgia confirms the scent of exile left by revolutionaries, and a path leading to continuity in an era that defies shame and embraces both history and future.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (3)

It is impressive how certain forms of justice are enamoured of masquerades.

In these well rehearsed acts, the wronged crowd is forced to don masks that smooth tears into the skin beneath the painted facade. Hands are manacled to perform the monotonous ritual of applause honouring the usurpers of freedom.

Those who dare to expose their faces are scalded and maimed; their appearance serving as a reminder to other echoes that might be harbouring a yearning to defend their reason.

Justice leads reason to excavate dungeons in which philosophy is shackled to damp walls. Following this transgression, justice annihilates the intellect that marble halls strive so hard to deny.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (2)

The door was flung open with the intention of coercing those hands into exposing the tearful eyes, however, it was met by a stance of rebellion.

The eyes resembled dehydrated amber fossils, devoid of misery, repelling every bout of humiliation. The aggressor's serenity dwindled, and he returned to reciting idioms and proverbs he had discarded during the years.

But there was no solace for a traitor who upheld democracy as a dictatorial system to accommodate a decadent majority.

The world that logic shades consists of the following

  • People greeting relatives separated by barbed wire fences
  • People scooping soil into their hands as a keepsake before resuming their exiled lives.
  • Some people who enjoy indoctrinating and coercing others to adhere to a certain belief.
  • Daily intimidation of people.
  • Racism, discrimination and oppression
  • Exploitation of poor countries in the name of progress
  • Landmines and butchered people
  • Propaganda serving to infuriate or placate voters under the pretence of serving patriotism.

Some people dare to dream, and the logical powers deem it an extravagant form of extremism. Dreamers are replaced with puppets who follow the rules obediently, until even scrupulous obedience dissolves into arrogance, creating disorientation to mire the spectators into a restriction of democratic duties and a parcel of regulated rights.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice

Cowering behind the door was someone with eyes hidden behind trembling hands. To be offered advice by those who sealed and stamped destinies seemed a heinous crime. The expectation that those calculated words ought to have been taken seriously was an abomination.

A Rigmarole Called Rights (3)

There is a certain dissonance when the outcome of applying rights is termed as justice. Justice is portrayed as a triumphant stance in which spectators applaud the tenacious individual or group, and institutions bestow the rewards they deem appropriate in order to excuse a particular violation.

It is nothing more than frivolous atonement by the institutions creating the conditions that fuelled the discourse of rights. Depicting justice as an honour to be bestowed at random is despicable.

The coined term does not compensate for stolen lives.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Hallucinations

One day, the crowd will gather around the wronged person; not out of curiosity, but through a surge of unity. Even solidarity will be discarded, for it is a term implying a partial sense of egoism obscured with the charitythat promotes material generosity.

The solitary tears will create cascades of water, threatening to engulf the entites that destroyed minds and liberties at random.

But when I look at the silhouette the pen falters, and the balconies in cities and other central places stare, as stately as ever. Carpets, ribbons and other garish trinkets clutter the quiet alleyways, annihilating the only respite from the maddening confusion.

A face peering though the curtains hesitates as sunbeams illuminate the listless eyes. Is it fear that instigates blame, or blame that instigates fear?

Either way, the face vanishes behind the heavy drapes ...

I like to think that the gesture was one of defiance, rather than terror. For when I gazed at the scene again, the carpets, ribbons and trinkets were as tattered as a beggar's clothes.

And that face became an anonymous artist.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

A Rigmarole Called Rights (2)

I forgot to mention gratitude.

A wronged person may hasten to exercise the right to protest against transgression, falsely believing this restriction to be a free choice.

The various outcomes are:

1. Gratitude towards the society that allows us this form of retaliation that is sanctioned by the dominant perpetrator.

2. Indignation at being patronized by the perpetrator who has all possible means to trample on freedom, and also the privilege to appear unjustly accused of all oppression.

3. Helpless when faced with the realisation that not even gratitude towards the means to defend one's self can destroy corrupt power.

Which goes to say that not even rebelling against this conformity may bring any relief. Rebelling against the injustice of using rights as ordained by a power that absolves itself unjustly confirms you devoid of sanity.

How bleak to equate revolutions with vengeance, when the latter is found in lethargic applications of an ideology called democracy ...

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

A Rigmarole Called Rights

A right that can be manipulated is generally forced onto a subdued nation by a hegemony that stabs expression within minutes of conception. Thus, the question arises whether rights are an obligation regaled to the masses in return for acquiescence.

Needs and rights have become interchangeable terms. But it is needs that create rights.

The oppression of the majority stifling diverse opinions creates the need to defend intellectual independence. It is the violation of natural freedom that created the terminology of rights disguising the destructive facade appeasing people with a gift that reduces liberty to the art of begging and scavenging.

A Brief Note on Colours

One day, the colours in the distorted spectrum might yearn to separate into their distant, original hues. However, restoring that natural balance is impossible without reconciliation with history.

Ridiculing history into oblivion debases the present and provides the future with the dissonance of an identity relegated to shame.

The contradiction that springs to mind is 'How can progress be opposed to the memory of revolutions?'

Monday, May 11, 2009

A Spectrum ...

Colours separate and mix according to popular whims, and identity is relegated to a silent account smothered under raucous pretence.

A spectrum fuses into brown, directions point towards a centre bearing the crown of righteousness.

The mass of followers may find that the power of decision making is simplified to an equation of popularity, majority and mediocrity - components of indoctrination.

Are rights natural, fundamental or a convenient gift reminding us of obligations towards the entities relegating our freedom to a farce?

Saturday, May 9, 2009

The Scent of Nostalgia

Splitting nostalgia into overlapping dimensions ... a recollection of cherished memories, and a yearning to have been an insignificant spectator of the years I did not witness.

All that is left is the scent of revolutionaries and ideals - mired in a senseless world that does not accept the need to strive towards a fragment of justice.

A morose attitude stemming from a society that stifles voices infiltrates life frequently. But dreams are the shield protecting ideals that are bludgeoned even before being voiced.

An era that ridicules dreamers is void of tenacity.