The Heart Of The Beast----Page 26

The city spawned us. Sending us into parallel
orbits experiencing the cornerstones of life. Each
new beginning heralding an ever expansive idea
of who we are. The milestones litter the streets
that we have crossed, propelling us forward to meet
our destiny. The pain that forged our characters
was not enjoyable and the occasional pits of
pleasure that we stumbled into left us dazed and
out of breath. The past has been haunting our
present and must be exorcised before it pollutes
our future.
Young supple flesh gave way to the intoxicants
of life and the night would never be the same
again. A paralyzing obsession with a western
land that monopolized all thought, feeling, and
action. Babylonian excess permeated our bodies
and penetrated our souls until the night was a
distant memory and the dawn an unexpected
visitor. We had arrived at the shoreline with
plans of conquest. But perhaps we were the
conquered. Perhaps we were the vanquished.
The wet black streets beckon us once again.
The lonely weary challenge remains as a monolithic
obelisk in our midst. Yet I missed the dreary
rooms. I looked forward to visiting the old
haunts once again. The old haunted haunts. The
anti-hero was life itself, set in a savage play. I
would make yet another attempt to come to terms
with the darkness. To challenge the sun. To make
claim to the idea that out of destruction can
come new life like a phoenix rising from the
ashes of the burning effigy of our former selves.