This ended up being a heady post, but its OK.
As I was saying before, my job is to pretend to be fancy, every day, at all times. Literally 24/7, I have to be ready to be fancy. I think the reason why I’m good at this is because I get such a curious enjoyment out of it. I’m really not classy at all, but the idea that people think I might be, and enjoy it as well, just gets me motivated. I love chatting with people about art, and life, and all the finer things that we might happen across. Trying to have exquisite taste is a game worth playing until you lose. Whether it’s a fishing story, good food, exotic casinos, or leisure activities, I always try to agree that it’s the greatest thing ever. And look at me, this fancy looking man, who loves the idea of taking a trip to Mexico to buy Tanzanite! Why wouldn’t you rub shoulders?
And so my tales along the Mexican Riviera continue to fall into place. I wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else except where the fates/winds take me.
The Story of the Mariner
As I was saying before, my job is to pretend to be fancy, every day, at all times. Literally 24/7, I have to be ready to be fancy. I think the reason why I’m good at this is because I get such a curious enjoyment out of it. I’m really not classy at all, but the idea that people think I might be, and enjoy it as well, just gets me motivated. I love chatting with people about art, and life, and all the finer things that we might happen across. Trying to have exquisite taste is a game worth playing until you lose. Whether it’s a fishing story, good food, exotic casinos, or leisure activities, I always try to agree that it’s the greatest thing ever. And look at me, this fancy looking man, who loves the idea of taking a trip to Mexico to buy Tanzanite! Why wouldn’t you rub shoulders?
And so my tales along the Mexican Riviera continue to fall into place. I wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else except where the fates/winds take me.
The Story of the Mariner
My new shipmates are some fun people. Of course I like to get along with them all. They have their departments, and ours is so small that I can just flight in and out of the different cliques, meeting as many people as possible. I was chatting with Leslie, a lovely South African security guard, and we were going on about what its like to live on the ship and she nailed it. She says its like a dream come true… except it’s a really weird dream, and the idea of having to one day wake up is neither something to look forward to nor wish away. It is indeed a strange life. Unreality.
Now, does anyone remember the board game Stratego? It’s sort of like chess except you can’t see what your opponent’s pieces are. The #1 kills all numbers above it, #2 does as well, all the way up to #9. #9 can only kill another # 9. # 8 diffuses the Bomb, and then there is the Spy. Every piece on the board can kill the Spy, so what’s the point? Well, the Spy can kill #1, but that’s it. Stratego. I need you to realize that here, on this ship, I am the Spy. I, Coleman, the Mariner’s Spy. I know who #1 is, and I’m going to get them.
Now, does anyone remember the board game Stratego? It’s sort of like chess except you can’t see what your opponent’s pieces are. The #1 kills all numbers above it, #2 does as well, all the way up to #9. #9 can only kill another # 9. # 8 diffuses the Bomb, and then there is the Spy. Every piece on the board can kill the Spy, so what’s the point? Well, the Spy can kill #1, but that’s it. Stratego. I need you to realize that here, on this ship, I am the Spy. I, Coleman, the Mariner’s Spy. I know who #1 is, and I’m going to get them.
Rooms for crew are not as nice as on the Disney Magic. I’m pretty much over it, but it makes life a bit harder. I don’t have a real sanctuary of home anymore, a place to relax and revive my psyche. I have a white bed with walls of pure white steel. It’s a sterile white coffin with fluorescent lights. The only solace it gives me is the idea that I’m living on a space ship. In the end, though, that might be better for my personality. I love space ships.
For our itinerary, we have one sea day, three days in Mexico, and then two more sea days before porting in L.A. Every sea day we have an art auction at 1:30 in the Lotus Lounge (its actually a really nice room inspired with Asian décor). After each auction we head up to Windjammer for dinner. It’s my favorite place to eat. It’s still a buffet, but they have classy food there, like Indian Chicken salad with squash, sushi, and Weiner schnitzel and waffles. Great stuff! And it looks out over the ocean with huge floor to ceiling panoramic windows. Anyways, we still wear our suits while we’re up there, and the only way to get there is to go across the pool deck. Everyone is outside in swimsuits and fat suits, and here comes this trio of business people in suits and ties. I love being the contrast like that. When were done with our meal, we get frozen yogurt on the way out. Now imagine three suits walking across a full pool deck eating ice cream cones. Its ridiculous, and we have been cheered at more than once. It’s a funny world to partake in.
I’ve made good friends with the activities manager Allin, from Brooklyn. He has Easter egg hunts, karaoke nights, and the sort, which I love to partake in, but my favorite night by far is Wii night. We’ve been playing a lot of Rock Band, which is great, but the best game ever is the Price is Right. We set up seats like you’ve got a real winner’s row, and everyone screams, and I can’t help but scream the loudest and jump out of my seat. It’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me. When they show you what you’re going to play for, and its….a NEW CAR!!!! You can’t help but jump and scream. We all do, but I do the most…because I win the most. Seriously, I can’t wait to play it with people back home. It’s awesome.
For our itinerary, we have one sea day, three days in Mexico, and then two more sea days before porting in L.A. Every sea day we have an art auction at 1:30 in the Lotus Lounge (its actually a really nice room inspired with Asian décor). After each auction we head up to Windjammer for dinner. It’s my favorite place to eat. It’s still a buffet, but they have classy food there, like Indian Chicken salad with squash, sushi, and Weiner schnitzel and waffles. Great stuff! And it looks out over the ocean with huge floor to ceiling panoramic windows. Anyways, we still wear our suits while we’re up there, and the only way to get there is to go across the pool deck. Everyone is outside in swimsuits and fat suits, and here comes this trio of business people in suits and ties. I love being the contrast like that. When were done with our meal, we get frozen yogurt on the way out. Now imagine three suits walking across a full pool deck eating ice cream cones. Its ridiculous, and we have been cheered at more than once. It’s a funny world to partake in.
I’ve made good friends with the activities manager Allin, from Brooklyn. He has Easter egg hunts, karaoke nights, and the sort, which I love to partake in, but my favorite night by far is Wii night. We’ve been playing a lot of Rock Band, which is great, but the best game ever is the Price is Right. We set up seats like you’ve got a real winner’s row, and everyone screams, and I can’t help but scream the loudest and jump out of my seat. It’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me. When they show you what you’re going to play for, and its….a NEW CAR!!!! You can’t help but jump and scream. We all do, but I do the most…because I win the most. Seriously, I can’t wait to play it with people back home. It’s awesome.
Thematically, the ship is very eclectic. There’s just crazy modern art everywhere, and it’s totally bizarre. The perfect representation of this comes during the farewell parade at the end of the cruise. The “theme” is medieval space age, and there’s just wacko nuts everywhere. Princesses on stilts, metal Chinease dragons, punk leprechauns, shaky trees, and everything else. I love it. The music they play is all over the place, but the apex comes when they mix music from the Wizard of Oz with Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. That is the perfect description of what its like to live on this ship, its like mixing the Wizard of Oz with Ferris Bueller’s Day Off…at a parade…all the time.
“You’re out of the dark You’re out of the woods You’re out of the night! Step into the sun Step into the light! Chh Chh Chh Ahhhh Oh yeah!”
I went to eat dinner the other night, and saw that they had some lobster bisque for the officers. Sounds great right? “Is there real lobster in this?” I asked the dining staff. “No.” Well at least he was honest. So I still tried some. One spoonful was enough to curb my appetite for the night. It tasted like aqua turd…like dolphin dump. I will never forget it. I made everyone at the table try it. “Why would I?” they asked me. “Just do it.” In tasting my soup, we will forever be connected in a special knowing for the rest of our lives. It was the worst thing that’s ever happened… ever.
And so going back to living on what, at times, feels like a space ship. I am allowed to use the guest gym in the evenings, and so I usually go late at night. This is the only time that it happens. The guest gym is located on deck 12, and there’s a handy crew elevator near my room. The elevator gets out at a small stairwell adjacent to the spa, and when I open the fire door, there is a HUGE vacuum that sucks you through, and its loud too. Something is messed up with the air pressure. I’ve talked about it with other people and no one gets it, “Like, what’s with the vacuum by the spa?” “I don’t know, but it makes me afraid of being sucked out into space.” “I know exactly what you mean…” It’s pretty sweet.
And so going back to living on what, at times, feels like a space ship. I am allowed to use the guest gym in the evenings, and so I usually go late at night. This is the only time that it happens. The guest gym is located on deck 12, and there’s a handy crew elevator near my room. The elevator gets out at a small stairwell adjacent to the spa, and when I open the fire door, there is a HUGE vacuum that sucks you through, and its loud too. Something is messed up with the air pressure. I’ve talked about it with other people and no one gets it, “Like, what’s with the vacuum by the spa?” “I don’t know, but it makes me afraid of being sucked out into space.” “I know exactly what you mean…” It’s pretty sweet.
Rebecca and I went to church on Easter, which was really nice. Our old pastor (Aunt Marcia’s best friend) holds sermon not very far from the port of San Pedro. It’s a good grounding force to have old faces every week. To see family and old friends. I’m still the wanderer, but not so much the stranger. Although, I am all still the stranger for being such a wanderer, its good to have a sister.
The Story of Safety
Safety is an important part of ship life. We hold two drills a week, one for guests, and one specifically for crew. As a manager I am given some extra responsibility, and I just love it. Who wouldn’t want to be properly prepared and trained for a major emergency? I get to be a life raft commander, which motivates my responsibility. Now there are 26 life BOATS aboard the Mariner, which fit 143 guests and 7 crew a piece. I will not be in one of these in case of abandon ship. I will be in a life RAFT, which only fits 35 crew. There are 68 rafts total, 32 assigned A thorough D and 36 spare. My life raft is 32 B and my responsibilities include making sure all of my 34 crew are present and accounted for, making sure they board the raft properly, and then assigning out supplies once adrift at sea. We have thermal protective aids for 10% of the persons aboard, 1.5 litres of water per person (which is not to be used within the first 24 hours), a fishing kit, a mirror for attracting planes, smoke signals, and delicious ration biscuits. Mmmm.
The Story of Safety
Safety is an important part of ship life. We hold two drills a week, one for guests, and one specifically for crew. As a manager I am given some extra responsibility, and I just love it. Who wouldn’t want to be properly prepared and trained for a major emergency? I get to be a life raft commander, which motivates my responsibility. Now there are 26 life BOATS aboard the Mariner, which fit 143 guests and 7 crew a piece. I will not be in one of these in case of abandon ship. I will be in a life RAFT, which only fits 35 crew. There are 68 rafts total, 32 assigned A thorough D and 36 spare. My life raft is 32 B and my responsibilities include making sure all of my 34 crew are present and accounted for, making sure they board the raft properly, and then assigning out supplies once adrift at sea. We have thermal protective aids for 10% of the persons aboard, 1.5 litres of water per person (which is not to be used within the first 24 hours), a fishing kit, a mirror for attracting planes, smoke signals, and delicious ration biscuits. Mmmm.
Before we abandon ship I am the public area team leader on deck 4 midship. My job is to clear the area and make sure guests get to their proper muster stations. I tell guests where to go based off of their lifejackets, or their Sea Pass card. Lost children are to be escorted to their muster station personally. Parents who have lost children must be told to remain calm, and then shown to their muster stations as their children will be taken there shortly by crew to be reunited. I’ve also been trained in basic fire fighting and assistance, and basic first aid and assistance. Further more, I have special security instructions and duties if there is a security breach. I’m not allowed to talk about that.
Basically, this safety awareness rules are good things to be trained and practiced in no matter where you are in life. I like the idea of being able to take control during an emergency, and know, with confidence, what to do. For instance, do you know what to do if there’s an electrical fire? Of course; unplug the appliance if you can, and use an extinguisher that doesn’t carry the current, either CO2 or dry powder. Whether the ship is on fire, infested with zombies, or on the brink of trans-dimensional disaster, these are skills I will take with me forever. Everyone should be trained for emergencies. I want to be a well suited player if life turns into the all powerful survival game, not one of the back props. I want to be able to survive, and help others survive too. Take control. Live life. Survive. S.O.L.A.S. Saftey Of Life At Sea.
Basically, this safety awareness rules are good things to be trained and practiced in no matter where you are in life. I like the idea of being able to take control during an emergency, and know, with confidence, what to do. For instance, do you know what to do if there’s an electrical fire? Of course; unplug the appliance if you can, and use an extinguisher that doesn’t carry the current, either CO2 or dry powder. Whether the ship is on fire, infested with zombies, or on the brink of trans-dimensional disaster, these are skills I will take with me forever. Everyone should be trained for emergencies. I want to be a well suited player if life turns into the all powerful survival game, not one of the back props. I want to be able to survive, and help others survive too. Take control. Live life. Survive. S.O.L.A.S. Saftey Of Life At Sea.
That being said, the Safety Officer and I are pretty much arch rivals… and its this funny thing. On the Magic, Michael used to call me Claus, the snooty generic European art gallery director. This guy is Claes (pronounced the same way) from Sweden, and he’s a nut. Real military type, like Skeletor. Real ironic. I can’t wait to tell Michael about him.
The Story of the Scorpion
Old Indians used to fear photography because the believed their spirits became trapped in pictures. But what about in words? What about the things we commit to writing, which represent our thoughts and sometimes our spirit? Does sending our thoughts into the ether have any consequence? I’m sure there’s something to be gained when you put your heart and soul into words, which I do attempt here, but is there anything lost in the process? Does my spirit become trapped in these words and ideas? It must be a blessing and a curse then, and I do not know where the balance lies.
The Story of the Scorpion
Old Indians used to fear photography because the believed their spirits became trapped in pictures. But what about in words? What about the things we commit to writing, which represent our thoughts and sometimes our spirit? Does sending our thoughts into the ether have any consequence? I’m sure there’s something to be gained when you put your heart and soul into words, which I do attempt here, but is there anything lost in the process? Does my spirit become trapped in these words and ideas? It must be a blessing and a curse then, and I do not know where the balance lies.
I’ve already talked of the beach at the end of the Earth, where the desert meets the Sea of Cortez and the Pacific Ocean at the very tip of the Baja Peninsula. I know now how sacred a place this is, and its value is not to be tread upon lightly. Even leaving behind footsteps at that place leaves a trail that goes much farther than our eyes can see, to the very heart within our beings. To meditate upon it could be dangerous, and above all it should be respected with the significance it deserves. I’ve always gotten strange feelings about certain places, whether it’s the spirit in the bathroom, the ghosts roaming the abandoned house, the sacred forests, or the many empty spaces in between. Some places simply feel more significant, they raise an awareness in me which is intangible, yet immediately recognizable. I feel the strongest ever about this beach, and as I walk along its alien sands I wonder if I’m not the only one who felt the same way. I think about ancient people who might have happened upon this place (the only way to get there is by boat) and what they must have believed, what they must have feared. And I also wonder what it is that has followed my path from that beach, and into my life.
It started just after I had begun writing my last post. It was late at night, and Eddie came back to the room after a successful night of drinking. He plopped down in the chair which sits right in front of our full length mirror. Now, in the instant that it cracked I swear I hadn’t noticed the chair touching the mirror at all, but we can’t be sure. It cracked from side to side, and guess who had to clean up the broken pieces (I’m just glad it wasn’t my bad luck). I thought nothing more of it other than you don’t see very large mirrors shatter everyday.
It started just after I had begun writing my last post. It was late at night, and Eddie came back to the room after a successful night of drinking. He plopped down in the chair which sits right in front of our full length mirror. Now, in the instant that it cracked I swear I hadn’t noticed the chair touching the mirror at all, but we can’t be sure. It cracked from side to side, and guess who had to clean up the broken pieces (I’m just glad it wasn’t my bad luck). I thought nothing more of it other than you don’t see very large mirrors shatter everyday.
The next day was an auction day, and it ended very successfully. One of our best auctions since I’ve been aboard the Mariner. After the auction we set up our checkout computers in the conference center, deck 2 forward. There, we do all of our invoicing and signing and business stuff. Next to the conference center is a board room. A gentleman asked me to help him raise the blinds in the board room, so of course I went to help him search for the switch. That’s the kind of fancy gentleman I am. We looked everywhere, and could not find it. I’ll add I was in my tuxedo, and as such was already reluctant to look in the half open panel underneath the board table. The leg of the table prevented the panel door from shutting completely, so it opened easily. Here I am then, on my hands and knees in a tuxedo, investigating the inside of this white metal panel filled with dust bunnies. So, I am flipping switches in the panel and suddenly one of the dust bunnies scurries away from my hand. It was very small, and tan in color. I look closer to make out its shape, and notice that it’s actually a scorpion. I’ve never seen a fucking scorpion in real life before, and I don’t know if I want to again (ASK IT AGAIN, IT'LL GET YOU AGAIN!!!). I called Environmental immediately and they came to exterminate the issue. To commemorate the occasion I had Genna, the Australian airbrush tattoo artist; give me a scorpion on my left wrist with a glow-in-the-dark stinger. That was awesome.
Of course I had Tim check out the scorpion. Right afterwards he was talking about it with me and some lady, and while in mid-speech, his clipboard snapped in half, suddenly and without measure. I told him about the mirror. Strange. Later that evening we decided to go out for some drinks, and we received a call from Eddie saying that our shelves storing our invoice computers in the art locker had collapsed suddenly and without measure. It simply fell apart. The computers weren’t broken (thank you), but it was still very odd. So what does it all mean? Am I cursed? What’s following me? I wasn’t sure. But then the next day something happened which kind of cues me in as to where all of this is headed. All my travels thus far around the world, and all the spirits who call to me.
Of course I had Tim check out the scorpion. Right afterwards he was talking about it with me and some lady, and while in mid-speech, his clipboard snapped in half, suddenly and without measure. I told him about the mirror. Strange. Later that evening we decided to go out for some drinks, and we received a call from Eddie saying that our shelves storing our invoice computers in the art locker had collapsed suddenly and without measure. It simply fell apart. The computers weren’t broken (thank you), but it was still very odd. So what does it all mean? Am I cursed? What’s following me? I wasn’t sure. But then the next day something happened which kind of cues me in as to where all of this is headed. All my travels thus far around the world, and all the spirits who call to me.
We had an auction the next day and a woman had come to me with a picture she wanted to purchase. She had been looking at it all week, and yesterday had decided she would come back to buy it from me. The painting was a dark landscape by the artist Tarkay, who is better known for his female portraits (all of which, in my opinion, look like Shelly Duvall). The landscape showed an old, dark house before a pitch black sky, half hidden between two wooded ridges. The title of the painitng: Silent Hillside
I’ve talked of Silent Hill before, the game, film, and general philosophy. What it is simply, a name for those spots in the world which carry the most sacred grounds. Points in our world which harbor strange energies and spirits. Basins of the supernatural. I do believe that there is a difference between a house that is simply haunted by a spirit, and the sacred place which calls out to the spirit as asylum. One of these places is Silent Hill, and one of these places lies at Land’s End, the end of the Earth, where the Pacific meets Cortez, at the tip of the Baja peninsula. I could not wait to go back.
The Story of the Secret Beach
I did not return to that place the next time I went to Cabo San Lucas. To be honest, I put it off for another week because I was a bit nervous, and I’m glad I did. I found two friends (Meghan and Viri) who wanted to come with me. Companions. I told them it was simply an adventure, and nothing more. I didn’t want to delve into anything else as I barely knew them. We met at 11am to tender from the ship to the Marina. Meghan said she felt like she was on an 80’s kids television show, going on an adventure. I couldn’t help but work in a Doctor Who reference, as it were, we were headed to an alien landscape. We had a wonderful light lunch out of a van, and bought a large blanket for the beach from the flea market (which made us all a nervous wreck!). We then went to charter a glass bottom boat to take us to Lover’s Beach (one of the many beaches at Land’s End). If you go, make sure to buy only one way tickets. Tricky Mexicans will try to get you to pay roundtrip, telling you they will come back and pick you up whenever you want, but they lie. They will leave you stranded there forever.
I’ve talked of Silent Hill before, the game, film, and general philosophy. What it is simply, a name for those spots in the world which carry the most sacred grounds. Points in our world which harbor strange energies and spirits. Basins of the supernatural. I do believe that there is a difference between a house that is simply haunted by a spirit, and the sacred place which calls out to the spirit as asylum. One of these places is Silent Hill, and one of these places lies at Land’s End, the end of the Earth, where the Pacific meets Cortez, at the tip of the Baja peninsula. I could not wait to go back.
The Story of the Secret Beach
I did not return to that place the next time I went to Cabo San Lucas. To be honest, I put it off for another week because I was a bit nervous, and I’m glad I did. I found two friends (Meghan and Viri) who wanted to come with me. Companions. I told them it was simply an adventure, and nothing more. I didn’t want to delve into anything else as I barely knew them. We met at 11am to tender from the ship to the Marina. Meghan said she felt like she was on an 80’s kids television show, going on an adventure. I couldn’t help but work in a Doctor Who reference, as it were, we were headed to an alien landscape. We had a wonderful light lunch out of a van, and bought a large blanket for the beach from the flea market (which made us all a nervous wreck!). We then went to charter a glass bottom boat to take us to Lover’s Beach (one of the many beaches at Land’s End). If you go, make sure to buy only one way tickets. Tricky Mexicans will try to get you to pay roundtrip, telling you they will come back and pick you up whenever you want, but they lie. They will leave you stranded there forever.
And so I showed Meghan and Viri what I had seen on my first trip, and they loved it. It was still as unreal, spooky, and unlike any other place in the whole world as the first time. I showed them the faces of the damned frozen in torment, and of the singular face who watches over them all, The Grim Reaper himself! I told them how I thought that this must indeed be a sacred place, and I believed when they agreed with me. Moving forward, we found a new cave, and spelunked for a bit before laying our blanket out, and soaking in the sunshine. After a while, I left the others lie while I walked along the shore. I didn’t have my glasses on, so I didn’t want to go far. I simply walked towards the other end of the beach, towards the point, where the sand stopped suddenly at a cliff face (beyond which lies the actual point of Land’s End; an archway jutting away from the rock into the sea). I walked without question, and with a seemingly unknown purpose towards this wall. Without glasses I found a very narrow fissure in the rock leading toward the water and into darkness. Following still, without question, I delved into the passage till I discovered a small opening above me. There was a rope attached to the opening, and pulling myself up and out of the passage, I found an entirely separate and hidden beach, secret and unpeopled from the others. My heart leaped at one of the greatest discoveries I had ever made. My own secret beach (by way of secret passage). I went to get the others.
Once, I had read a small book about the universe. Do you know what the line between light and dark on the surface of our planet is called? Between sunshine and outer space, the knowing and unknown? Its name is The Terminator. Did you know what it is called on the surface of the Moon? The Terminator. I’m sure there are metaphysical terminators all over our planet, and that one of them lies here at this place too. To be sure, the secret beach is somewhere near the terminator.
Once, I had read a small book about the universe. Do you know what the line between light and dark on the surface of our planet is called? Between sunshine and outer space, the knowing and unknown? Its name is The Terminator. Did you know what it is called on the surface of the Moon? The Terminator. I’m sure there are metaphysical terminators all over our planet, and that one of them lies here at this place too. To be sure, the secret beach is somewhere near the terminator.
I woke Meghan and Viri quietly saying “I’ve found a secret beach.” They came without question and hesitation. Later, Meghan told me she had her doubts about being able to fit through the secret passage, but she just knew it would be alright. It was a tight squeeze, but we helped each other through with our packs and such. That sort of nervousness that comes with confined spaces I sonly natural, and that is how I felt. Emerging onto an empty beach from a small cave like that is a great relief, and one of the finest moments of satisfaction I can ever recall. No people in sight, just a land solely for adventurers, only the beach babes agile and thin enough to crawl up the rope and out of the cave. There was a large note written for us in the sand: “Ben Loves Sarah.” I wonder what it means. Other than that and a dried up dead pelican, there wasn’t anything of note on the beach. Just the beauty of the rocks, the sand, and the sea, exclusive to our enjoyment. I felt treated by the world, and refreshed. All my angst and nervousness had melted away, and now I felt comforted by this place as opposed to being afraid of it’s malicious nature. I felt blessed by this beautiful place as an adventurer, and we thoroughly enjoyed all our time there (got a wicked tan too). The three of us talked of secrets that could only be shared in that special place, our secret beach, a sanctuary for the unspoken things we could not talk of aboard the Mariner. There was a definite relaxed aire surrounding all of our movements and leisure, climbing on rocks, admiring the water, and lying in the clean sand around us. We bonded in a way only certain people can understand, and tried to come to an understanding of the sacred power that this place might have for the world.
So I look to these faces surrounding this place, and wonder: what are they? These sandstone gargoyles; are they really trapped evil spirits, and if so, where do these evil spirits come from? I think that they are indeed spirits, but they’re not demons in the usual sense. I think that they might be more akin to Shades, or remnants of spirits left behind by our greater entities. What if this place served as a basin that caught fragments of negative energies, like a spiritual filter? What if these screaming faces, these visions of misery, are simply manifestations of our own negative thoughts and insecurities? In essence, what if this sacred place serves as a trap for our personal demons, and lets us pass through the gateway freed of their emotional burden? Then this place is not so evil at all, but a spiritual gift. What if we leave as better people than as we came? This is the essence of what is behind Silent Hill, and the end of the Earth. I believe that this particular Terminator, the line between the light and the dark on our world, is indeed a sacred filter for the soul, and if you should find it, I encourage you to also step on through to the other side.
After we took the boat back to the Marina, we all decided that we should get some refreshments before heading back to the ship. We stopped at the first bar we came to, and ordered some guacamole and mojitos. I got a melon colada, which was wonderful. There’s nothing like a refreshing drink after a refreshing adventure, and the music they played was rather ironic. The song was slowed down to lounge version style, and sung softly by a woman. The song was Black Hole Sun.
And, oddly enough, as we left our secret beach via the secret passage, I noticed that my scorpion tattoo, which had been complete and unbroken for three days before we set out for the beach, was now totally vanished from my wrist. In a way, then, a part of me was claimed by that place after all. Perhaps this strange piece of my own self is left behind there always, at that place of dreams, trapped forever in stone. A face, unrecognizable to even my own eyes, twisted and frozen in torment. An unwanted part of my being left to haunt those who are unfortunate enough to forget their respect for the lands they haplessly trod upon, or even yet, the ones who do. Then I bid riddance to my torment, to my anguish, and leave my ghost behind forevermore as a monument, so that one day maybe you too may better understand this mystery of a world we live so briefly upon.
So I look to these faces surrounding this place, and wonder: what are they? These sandstone gargoyles; are they really trapped evil spirits, and if so, where do these evil spirits come from? I think that they are indeed spirits, but they’re not demons in the usual sense. I think that they might be more akin to Shades, or remnants of spirits left behind by our greater entities. What if this place served as a basin that caught fragments of negative energies, like a spiritual filter? What if these screaming faces, these visions of misery, are simply manifestations of our own negative thoughts and insecurities? In essence, what if this sacred place serves as a trap for our personal demons, and lets us pass through the gateway freed of their emotional burden? Then this place is not so evil at all, but a spiritual gift. What if we leave as better people than as we came? This is the essence of what is behind Silent Hill, and the end of the Earth. I believe that this particular Terminator, the line between the light and the dark on our world, is indeed a sacred filter for the soul, and if you should find it, I encourage you to also step on through to the other side.
After we took the boat back to the Marina, we all decided that we should get some refreshments before heading back to the ship. We stopped at the first bar we came to, and ordered some guacamole and mojitos. I got a melon colada, which was wonderful. There’s nothing like a refreshing drink after a refreshing adventure, and the music they played was rather ironic. The song was slowed down to lounge version style, and sung softly by a woman. The song was Black Hole Sun.
And, oddly enough, as we left our secret beach via the secret passage, I noticed that my scorpion tattoo, which had been complete and unbroken for three days before we set out for the beach, was now totally vanished from my wrist. In a way, then, a part of me was claimed by that place after all. Perhaps this strange piece of my own self is left behind there always, at that place of dreams, trapped forever in stone. A face, unrecognizable to even my own eyes, twisted and frozen in torment. An unwanted part of my being left to haunt those who are unfortunate enough to forget their respect for the lands they haplessly trod upon, or even yet, the ones who do. Then I bid riddance to my torment, to my anguish, and leave my ghost behind forevermore as a monument, so that one day maybe you too may better understand this mystery of a world we live so briefly upon.
Just Remember:
You’re out of the dark You’re out of the woods You’re out of the night. Step into the sun Step into the light.
Its somewhere near the Terminator…Silent Hill…side?
The Story of Success
And of course, in terms of business, my ship is number one in the entire world.
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