| ABOUT | I first discovered the thousand lights blog because I was intrigued by the name. It inspired something in me and I read a few of the posts. Now, while I don't really like the site per se, I don't dislike it and I think that anyone else that does appreciate it deserves to, hence why it's the first blog I'm impersonating - a good lot of effort has gone into it. But despite not really being a fan, I am drawn to it. Especially because of the name. I wondered what exactly it means. The first thing that comes to mind is Thomas Edison, and his thousand tries to invent the lightbulb but I don't think that's right. Firstly because Edison is kind of a douchebag (that's why I made the character Inspector Edison, I wanted a "nice" Edison). But more importantly, Edison DIDN'T make the lightbulb 1,000 times, rather patented over 1,000 inventions created by the people in his employ. He was moreso a Capitalist than an Inventor, never forget that. So, if not him, as the blogger, Aziza, is a fiction writer, I thought perhaps this was in reference to the "lightbulb moment". The little cartoon DING! Of a lightbulb when a character gets an idea, so this means "1000 ideas". That's kinda cool, but when you think about it, if people live to be about 100, that's just ten ideas a year . . . that's less inspiring. So, what about something more esoteric? It's not called "1,000 lightbulbs" after all, the picture's just distracting me. So, perhaps these are the lights in the dark. Considering the happy-go-lucky, positive content of this blog, it would suit if the name represented hope; the light in the darkness. 1,000 points of light to guide you in the dark. To be honest, I don't know. But, if I were to hazard a guess, I would assume the name pretty much means all of these things, and more. That's why it resonates with me so much, it's meant to inspire, but not in a limiting way. Perhaps, in fact, each light means something different. It's not 1,000 ideas, 1,000 lightbulbs or 1,000 beacons of hope. It's a thousand different things, a whole spectrum of concepts which - in their own way - brighten up your life. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: COMMUNITY, HOPE, LIFE - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Why do people like sunrises? I mean, the light is right there during the day, what's so special about a sunrise? Well, for one thing, it's because there's only one per day and it's always early (that's what early means after all, it's the first part of the day) so it's not easy to see them. But, people seem to covet the times they see the sunrise.I think part of the reason for that is because sunrises are so dark, before being brightened by the sun. It's special because, on that canvas of black, the sun shines all the brighter, and fills the land with light. Why do people like spotlights? Well, for one thing, it focuses our attention. When a singer or maitre d' stands in a spotlight, we can't be distracted by the orchestra pit or the stage, we are being shown what we ought to see. But more than that, I think it's the contrast. A person standing illuminated on a stage of darkness is a more captivating image, a more dynamic image, numbing your thoughts to the periphery and focussing the mind on centre stage. Why do people like candles? I think you might be seeing the pattern by now, but if you'll humour me for a moment. For one thing they are masterfully designed, they can smell nice and there's a romance to it, a notion that pervades back through history to a simpler time when our only choice was eating or writing via candlelight, or just sleeping. But moreso, I think that it's the radiance, the luminescence that pierces the darkness with a sprite of fire. In the light, it's merely a flame, but in the darkness it becomes a beacon. You see, I think that the dark aspects make the light brighter. Not literally, but due to the contrast we appreciate it more because of the dark. But this isn't just true of illumination, I believe this is true of moral or emotional light. We appreciate gain more if we understand loss. We appreciate happiness more if we have seen sadness. Love feels more precious through heartbreak. It's why fictional characters need flaws, it's why hope needs reality and why I hate glurge. Reality is flawed, and so imagination, fiction, dreams & hopes should be flawed as well. It's so that we can appreciate what good there is. These things need to be flawed, to make them perfect. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: CREATIVITY, HOPE, WRITING - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I clamber around the cold basement, breathing heavily, searching for my wife. "Honey, where are-" my foot kicks something on the ground, and I stop for a moment. Crouching down, I pat the ground and my fingers find a torch. I dust it off and switch it on. The peeling, green wallpaper on the wall beside me is highlighted by the bright circle. "I found a torch, can you see me?" "I can." replies a voice. I turn the light on her to see a huddled, shivering form. I head over and help her to her feet. "Are you okay?" she asks, fearfully. "No, that thing's still down here," I whisper. I scan the room with the light, when I hear a loud growl. I spin around and shine the light up at it. Clinging to the ceiling with sharp claws; long teeth dripping with blood; wiry tangled, fur and yellow, piercing eyes. "Turn off the light!" she squeals, hiding behind my shoulder. "No, stay with me." "It can see us," she whispers harshly. "But we can see it," I reply. "Do you want to fight in the light, or hide in the dark?" And then the creature pounced. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: DRABBLE, FEAR, FICTION, LIGHT - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I don't hate One Thousand Lights, but I certainly don't like it. No unkindness to Aziza (the author) but the content is too sappy, sugary and saccharine for my liking. I just don't think the world works that way. For that reason, I've had to consider how I would want to parody/homage it. I'm not here to tell you to be a fan because I am too, I'm here just to say "here's a thing, you decide if you like it". See, the reason I admire the site is because I think it's pretty, it's a very nicely designed site with an eye-catching name and theme and the content is well written, I'm just not the target audience, but I can appreciate a wall of words well weaved. So, for this satire/reference, I won't be "replicating" 1,000 Lights. Not only because I don't do sappy stuff well, but because I don't think that does it justice . . . so for the sake of this parody/satire I will recreate the style, but my content - this content - will be focussed towards "cruel hope". Some may think that makes this not a homage/reference, rather plagiarism of the art style. But I prefer to think of it as like a revamping or a reinvention of the original. It exists to make people feel good because "gosh-gee, isn't life inspiring, sometimes?" and yeah, it can be, but more often than not life kinda sucks, but you can still find joy in it. That's what I want to write about. I can see why some may think that a weak satire/homage, since that's not the original at all, but I stand by it because . . . well, that's what I find inspiring. Parody/Reference isn't always about imitating the original, it can also be about capturing that essence in a way that glances, cock-eyed, at the original and says "I can see what you're trying to do, but I have a few things to say about that." And that's how I feel about onethousandlights.com, it's a site that I wish I was the target audience for, even though I'm not. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: PARODY, HOMAGE, REFERENCE, SATIRE - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The storm churned the sea like a mad god, severing the darkness with flashes of lightning. Within, the lighthouse, the keeper ate supper; soup and bread. With a crack of thunder, the table shook and all of the lights blacked out. “Bugger,” said the keeper. dropping his bread. Searching blindly, he found a lantern. Lighting the candle, he climbed the spiral stairs to the lamp above. The rain rattled the windows, and the wind whistled as he knelt by the backup generator. He pulled the ripcord to no avail. It needed fuel. Then, lightning struck near the shore. The brilliant light revealed the silhouette of a ship, headed for the bay. “No, not the rocks!” screamed the keeper. With shaking hands, he grabbed the jerry can and struggled to pour the fuel steady. When it was filled enough, he dropped the can and pulled the ripcord. The generator chugged, and the lamp lit bright. With a sigh, the keeper looked through the window to see the ship turn. His blood ran cold. The coming ship flew the flag of the enemy. The ship docked in the shore and soldiers charged the bay. “What have I done?” said the lighthouse keeper. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: DRABBLE, FICTION, LIGHT, REGRET - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Cradle close the candle’s fading spark, Hold the warmth and let go of your fear; Burn, burn away the unforgiving dark. Though in your hands the flame can scorch its mark, The shadows fade when glowing hope is near; Cradle close the candle’s fading spark. For wiser men have warned of demons, hark, That dance around your spirit, cruel and queer! Burn, burn away the unforgiving dark. Should fire falter amid the empty park, You’ll lose your way, no matter how you peer. Cradle close the candle’s fading spark, It matters not, how vivid or how stark; Blackness fades where even embers leer, Burn, burn away the unforgiving dark So e’en where demon fly and hellhounds bark, They can’t fight fire, no matter slight nor mere; Cradle close the candle’s fading spark. Burn, burn away the unforgiving dark. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: LIGHT, LOVE, POETRY - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - My aunt is Schizophrenic. I don't know why, she just is. She started hearing voices a couple of years ago and was hospitalized, then finally let out with medication as a result. I still feel the same way about her, and she's still her down-to-Earth, fun-loving self. She's just a little kookier now, and she says some odd things at times; but she's not that crazy. See, one time, she said something that I think is more true than we realize. She said that she thinks everyone has some kind of mental illness. She was referring to other members of my family, and I think that's true too, but I'd like to take that a step further - I think everyone in the world has a mental illness. I don't mean some hyperbolic "this world is a sickness" way, no I mean literally. Everyone single adult suffers from a mental disorder or dysfunction which negatively affects their life. I mean, think about it: Anxiety, Depression & PTSD identifies a lot of people first off. Most people have those, beyondblue.com.au even estimates that one in six Australians have depression and one in four people have anxiety (one in three women). Then PTSD, believe it or not PTSD isn't just a war thing. Anyone who was raped (which is said to be 1/12th of the population) or sexually assaulted, anyone who's been badly injured (or seen someone badly injured) anyone who was inconsolably scared as a child, or anyone that's suffered severe stress can suffer from PTSD. Then religion - no not EVERY theist - but, some people follow a religion out of fear of the unknown, or a lack of education, and that's just crazy. Or they believe despite evidence to the contrary, which is delusional; or hardline gnostic atheists which are just as delusional. Then phobias, everyone seems to have some kind of phobia, I have a phobia, that's a disorder since it negatively affects your life. Anyone who drinks alcohol excessively, plays games excessively, masturbates excessively . . . that's a form of addiction that covers even more (and I haven't even mentioned drugs yet; but I just did, and a LOT of people are addicted to drugs). Prejudice is a form of sociopathy, it requires dehumanization. So, any misogyny, racism, homophobia, xenophobia, transphobia, demonization or even idolization is a kind of mental disorder, negatively affecting your peace of mind. So, is there anyone left? Seriously, is there a living person out there who doesn't ascribe to ANY of this? I've never found one. But, I'm not saying this to bring you down. To me, this is a good thing; I think everyone should realize, not only does this make everyone unique in their own way, but if you feel down . . . you're not alone. Everyone suffers in their own way, some more and some less, but everyone's crazy. There's something wrong with everyone. So, What's wrong with you? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: LIFE, WELL-BEING - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Every day on this Earth, we are warmed by the mantle, Of the sun, its inspiring light But the shine of that sunlight cannot hold a candle To the stars in the shimmering night. Although it burns closer, the menacing fire, that shines from our singular star Pales in the night, to those stars up much higher So many, so bright and so far I'll always respect the life from the sun, Which burns above me forever. But those thousands inspire me much more than one, Lighting the night sky together. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: LIFE, LIGHT, POETRY - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The long highway slides under me, speeding like a runaway train. My helmet muffles all sound but the roar of the engine. It's a stormy night with no stars to see, and with my wet weather gear, I can't even feel the cold. Hundreds of raindrops shine like shards of sparkling glass before my headlight. The highway is empty, long and straight, fenced in by the trees. It's just me, the motorcycle and the road. But even with the obscuring rain, I saw everything. A black dog ran out of the woods. It bared its teeth. I hit the brakes, but the slick road gave no mercy. I collided heavily, and was thrown by the seat of my pants as the rear tire lifted. The road hit me like a brick wall. I heard the scrape of metal, saw sparks, and felt bones break. I rolled sideways, cracked a rib, and slid before coming to a stop on my back. My neck ached, I dare not move. Hurt and scared, I looked at my bike. it was a twisted wreck, the headlight cracked, but it shone back onto an empty road. No dog. All I see is the dark highway. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: BLAME, DRABBLE, FICTION, LIGHT - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I've always had trouble sleeping. It's not that I drink too much coffee or stay up late reading books, I've just always had trouble ending my days. As a kid it wasn't so troublesome. You need more sleep as a growing kid, and you're tired from a day of being a kid. But, when I grew older, I started to have more energy in the evening. Not necessarily physical energy, since I did do stuff all day, but rather mental energy. I'm quite smart. Don't think that I'm bragging, this isn't something I earned, I'm just naturally gifted. It means I think a lot, and I'm quick-witted, but also, I have trouble sleeping. Going to sleep doesn't require an inactive brain, but it does require calming down, winding down and trying to clear your mind. But, I have trouble doing that. I am literally too busy thinking about stuff to sleep. It's hard to sleep in the light of so many idea bulbs . . . I somehow manage it most nights, but not without effort. I can't go to sleep, I have to fall asleep. I need to tire myself out, or wind my mind down. If I don't, when I lie in bed, I just find myself staring up at the ceiling, thousands of thoughts, stories, imaginary places, characters and ideas dancing around my head. As amazing as all that is, in order to sleep I need to shut all that down, wipe down the bar; turn off the music; lower the curtain; switch off the lights & lock it all up. And just as my melodramatic metaphor would imply, that's a somewhat depressing prospect, to me. But, if I've learned nothing else from this, it's that sometimes we need that. We need the negative side. The Darkness helps us to truly see the Light. Heartbreak allows us to more value Love. Disappointment helps us to understand the need for Hope. War makes us crave Peace; Sadness makes us respect Joy and, yes, we even need Sleep, so that we can appreciate what it means to be Awake. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CATEGORIES: POSTS TAGS: DREAMS, LIFE, WELL-BEING, WRITING - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |
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