Monday, February 22, 2010

The Order of Chaos

"You said you know me."

* * *

First time I saw you, you were the sort of beauty whom every man would not mind to kneel before you just for a bit of your attention.

But I know who you are.

You were the sort of person who hid your insecurities under your fair, baby skin; your sense of dissatisfactions, your growing defense against critic for your absolute love for attention. You dramatically plant seeds in people's minds by dropping elusive hints of attractions that take root days later, or so you thought, and you were very busy doing this little chore of yours while neglecting many things you happened to leave unnoticed.

Carpe diem, you said.

But you forgot to carpe noctum. You forgot that your possessions were not for only hours but for fatal days. And you let them slip uno por uno out from your pocket without you realizing while you danced your moves around, unplanned, slipping out more as you did. And no one knows better of these possessions, these handful worth of elusive, enigmatic yet way too alluring overpriced bunch of past glories.

One day you realized that your pocket was empty.

And upon seeing this you wonder about me; someone who was not entirely a significant being at all since the very first day we met - the sort of person whom you thought was perfectly harmful, the sort of playful, foolish acquaintance of yours whom the least he could do was to take your reign of power. You looked down on me because you learned that I was never an enemy, never to becoming one, the exact thing I wanted you to think every time you look at me. And to no avail you did, you did this unconsciously, unknowingly, successfully.

Later in the days you realized that you were in fear. You were afraid, you were terribly scared by just looking into your growing shadow. Who was there? Who wanted to pin you down? Too many questions from too many directions. Isolated, unhappy, from a reverse adverse circumstances.

How did this happen? Who is there to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you are looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.

It was you all along.

And I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? Loneliness, lack of attention, guilt, pleasure; the sort of challenge people like you will most likely to endure, to run for. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reasons and rob you of your common sense. You were afraid. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to me, and I promised you order, I promised you peace, and all I demanded in return was your silence company.

But now it is all too late for an amendment, let alone a change - a change that you had hoped for silently deep in the hidden chamber of your heart for a time too long now. A contradictory, things did not happen the way you have always wanted, and this kills you by the seconds, consuming your ego and confidence rapidly, pulling you away from your little victory.

You are oft to blame, and this is too much proved, that with devotion's visage and pious action we do sugar on the devil himself. You spare the rod - the only mistake you did each time you looked at me, with the thoughts that I could never be the best of ever an enemy.

There were days when you neverendingly boasted about your persona; you bragged about that war you won against those lovers you suppressed, the battle you led against the love-stricken, of how alluring and how demanding you were against those men who wanted you as their prizes, their tokens of masculinity. You created lust, your seeded envy. You challenge them poor men to fight against each other for you, using merely nothing but your divine beauty, your superbly impressive talent in play and commands. And before your feet they begged for mercy, after all the efforts they attempted to win your heart, your love, your attention, but all you did was to turn around and to walk away, leaving these wounded men in their best misery. You made me fell for you, and then you turned to them your other cheek.

You forgot that I saw all these happening.

You have made many men cry for you, and as I expected you wanted me to become one of them, but very little did you know that I have learned and understand your moves; your dances, your touches and your perseverance - your only motive to make me worth your time by offering me endless affection in return for my own sufferings. And I let you to believe that that was happening without you at all realizing that the table was turned slowly over the time, and suddenly with just a snap of a finger.

You thought you could lure me into your web of traps and to you I will shed a tear, forgetting that I was no longer the man I was before, that I no longer shed not even a single tear for any woman. That one fact, just one fact, that you failed to realize all these while.

And now that you have found yourself lying naked in your own miseries, cornered at the end of your empty, dark grand ballroom, fallen to your knees before the golden arch gate, the gate to the end of your troubles. You found yourself alone, lonely, rage-ridden, disappointed, tiredly weatherbeaten. You have lost your soul, your beautiful speeches, your godly touch and your angelic smiles. All you have now is yourself of the complete reverse, drowning in your own pool of tears.

You are out of sources.

You see yourself on your knees before me; a man, just a man, that for once and all you thought was completely harmless, never you did see that in the end I could be your only arch enemy, and ever in the same time your only savior, with me looking down at your face with none other than my own cold expression, with none of pity, let alone at all any sympathy.

Imagine, a such superbly impressive woman like you who once have the charms, the attractions, the sort of things that draw bees to such a sunflower like you, the physique, the intelligent, the sort of trophy many men had fallen for, to be on your knees before me, someone you could never ever expect to become at all your enemy. No, never. But I did.

You wanted me to fall in love with you, and leave when I do, but what happened is now the reverse.

You need more than just a crowd of supporting characters right now. You need a savior, you need someone to lift you up again, you need a hero. You need someone to once again bring order to this chaotic moments in what is left of your life. You need hope.

And that hope is me.

* * *

"You said you know me,"


"But I know better of who you really are."

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