Something Evil This Way Cometh
Maybe the archeological sites are haunted; maybe ancient curses are being disregarded by the tomb diggers; maybe the deads should relinquish their burial treasures and yield them up for the foods for the thieves' children and wives...Then, again, only Hollywood movie industry can elaborate the intentions of the ghosts; afterall, the laborers need some thrilling feast for the overly burdened minds.Oh, the sweet sensation craved by the labor force, like rollercoaster rides always improving on the speed for the bodies to cleanse the machine of the brains!
Maybe I shouldn't go there in the first place. Maybe all the junks deeply burying in there shouldn't be excavated so I can feel out the answers; because maybe the ideas and thoughts being labeled as "the answers" are only worn out decays like food stuck between the teeth and oblivion is like brushing them away!
Like repeating re-runs of antiquated shows that once the little girl child in me could only enjoy the sweet happy ending or at least a mystery solved. But the problem-solving devices dreamt up by the films' directors and producers bore the tragedies of life full of frictions and conflicts were not noticed by my childish mind and innocent expectation. In a child imagination the ending satisfied the details leading to a complete plot: innocence oiled the happentance of the intricately traumatic plot; yet, when the movie of her own life is being rolling out, the cogs and the nut-and-bolt are not as well oiled.
Like the pages of a novel that have already marked the heartaches within: the cheating readers who skip to the last page to know ahead the ending to ease the overwhelming climax hidden in the middle of the book: returning to the front pages with an eased feeling of anticipation: yet, not withholding the stirs of emotions for the details of the inevitable tragedies leading toward the already known outcome.
But though time is a convolutive kaleidoscope of realities: maybe the status quo is best to be contained; and that it is true that it is easiest to leave well enough alone! Maybe the fruits of love is the silence keeping apart of different opinions and taking of a stand.
...Oh, maybe I should never go there: for the treasures burying with the deads are not for me to claim! What shall it be then for me to choose to be buried in my tomb with me when it comes to the time when I should become just another past??
