It was on this day, my day, the one and only day I lived my entire life to see. I tried for so long for this not to happen but when your destiny is set up from one day to the next it just can not be avoided for one minute.
As I stood at the very edge of the drop that fell away before me I could see what the meaning of life was all about, a meaning that was lost to me ever second, my existence laying right before me and from here, my last stand laid out in every mile.
If I played I Spy with myself, I would never be able to guess what I was thinking about just because I can actually spy everything. Creations glory and man's finest goals realised, a dream of belief and sanctuary mingled together in a harmonious bomb crater that only eyes can believe in and the minds eye can make you dis-believe in, in hind sight.
Simple views of what there is can never be outweighed by what is coming just over that horizon, life's cards are dealt for you, or are they? the questions unanswered are laid out in ever centimetre, life, loves and the devil plotting together and against each other to make the inconsistent values available for all to consume. That very first intake of breathe shows me why the skyline looks like a montage of the best things the past has allowed my life to be available to, the worst things that current influences strive to break down in a single tear stained tissue and the what the future, some other persons past is going to deal me.
The belief that every minute I will live is going to give me pains I will endure memories I will cherish and the love that will make me grow into the one thing I am tailored to be.
My very first tears shed as my very first cry is carried by my very first breathe, my cards being dealt out before me. On this day my life continues and my hands are held by my creators, my skyline perfectly crafted and beliefs I plan to have are coming to me now and will continue until the very day I cease.
Showing posts with label Reality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reality. Show all posts
Monday, 18 June 2012
Thursday, 25 August 2011
Is Reality TV Real?
What with the modern enhancements they have with voice tuning and Lycra, tofu and paramedics skills at ice skating rinks, who needs an imagination.
Gone are the days of trying to figure out that the butler did it and small pieces of paper wrapped around your fingers. Angela Lansbury lasted for years, Agatha Christie managed to have a Murder wherever Poirot or Marple were drinking tea out of fine china.
I blame Eric Arthur Blair who in 1948 managed to redesign Television programming for 60 years in the future. Big Brother is watching, George you may be a genius in the literacy department and an all round good egg, according to the Always Correct Wikipedia, but I blame you.
However I could quite as easily blame Delia Smith for Cant Cook Wont Cook, in that case don't cook. Mr Hilton billionaire hotelier with a pug for a daughter, I blame you for three in a bed, booooooo. Not to mention Chris Torville and Jane Dean for winning British gold medal a million years ago at the Olympics, I blame you for Singing to the stars on ice. However bringing it back to bare bones John Logie Baird, I think we can actually blame you, all of the above is your fault.
Media types, those people who commission this stuff have now be grabbing onto the smallest idea, Reality, for years and years. “I have an Idea for a TV programme, lets stick a camera on the end of a ferrets nose and follow it wherever it goes.” A hit on some obscure little Mongolian subscription based cabellite TV station” Bonuses all around and then lets syndicate it to the rest of the planet, granted America will buy anything, except Cheryl Cole, I have a stick up my hole.
In answer to the question, Is Reality TV Real, No. Unless you think The Only Way Is Essex is a fly on the wall.
Rant over.
Gone are the days of trying to figure out that the butler did it and small pieces of paper wrapped around your fingers. Angela Lansbury lasted for years, Agatha Christie managed to have a Murder wherever Poirot or Marple were drinking tea out of fine china.
I blame Eric Arthur Blair who in 1948 managed to redesign Television programming for 60 years in the future. Big Brother is watching, George you may be a genius in the literacy department and an all round good egg, according to the Always Correct Wikipedia, but I blame you.
However I could quite as easily blame Delia Smith for Cant Cook Wont Cook, in that case don't cook. Mr Hilton billionaire hotelier with a pug for a daughter, I blame you for three in a bed, booooooo. Not to mention Chris Torville and Jane Dean for winning British gold medal a million years ago at the Olympics, I blame you for Singing to the stars on ice. However bringing it back to bare bones John Logie Baird, I think we can actually blame you, all of the above is your fault.
Media types, those people who commission this stuff have now be grabbing onto the smallest idea, Reality, for years and years. “I have an Idea for a TV programme, lets stick a camera on the end of a ferrets nose and follow it wherever it goes.” A hit on some obscure little Mongolian subscription based cabellite TV station” Bonuses all around and then lets syndicate it to the rest of the planet, granted America will buy anything, except Cheryl Cole, I have a stick up my hole.
In answer to the question, Is Reality TV Real, No. Unless you think The Only Way Is Essex is a fly on the wall.
Rant over.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)