Post Room 101

So I have reached my 101st post and what more fitting way could I think to use it, maybe more to abuse it, this extroverted number 101, assigned forever to George Orwell's Book, 1984. Where the Room 101 holds everybody's worst nightmare however big or small. The room obsessed by so many in comedy circles for TV and radio programs, people's conspiracies, and all because of one number. Nothing to do with Revelations, which holds another number inscribed on to people's minds -666.

Without a worry about what Room 101 holds for me, because "we all know what we are going to find there" if there was such a place, some form of purgatory for me no less and that half way line to being at one with what comes next in the after life. Purgatory where after dispatch we have to answer to all our days, St. Peter residing over the front door asking if we have been good or bad, forgiven others and done as said according to Scripture.

* ** *** *** *** ** *

Here, I have you now, for I welcome you to Post Room 101. The place where you have to wait upon death to arrive and walk you between our Earthly world and the next land. "Your Vehicle awaits us" Death says, as he leans in over your bed, from where you lay, you stand as a shimmering entity of soul life next to 'Your Body'.
"Your Soul Cake," he quibs, for you're not the first or the last of his job, removing the life from the world, you note your family and friends look on at you in peace. "Follow me I'm taking you for dispatch, Post Room 101 for you." You look on, morbid, for life's ended, happy that it hasn't 'ended' in the sense of nothing. "Don't worry, dispatch is what everybody has to do, there are so many people that an organised system is needed to place your correct location on route. Yes, I know what you're thinking, even in death there are queues!"

You arrive in the click of a finger, where not so much as your local post office for you to queue at for your turn, but a whole sorting office sits. The local worker behind the desk murmurs "You will be filed soon enough". Your illusion is as good as mine, our perception of reality is not quite as it may seem. The worker looks straight in to your eye and says, "Go to Zone Six." Death kindly walks you along the back of the queue and down into the Zone. "Zone 6?" you ask. Death points out that it's just an area, everybody has be placed in reference to the Global Holdings of people, for everybody knows everybody somehow.

Gradually you make it to the front. You are asked, "What's your Belief...Faith my friend", you answer C of E. "Ah, Coffee people", he marks his paperwork then points at a distant area, "Come this way round and join that Corner". As you get closer the temperature rises, you've been happily warm for a little while, now it's positively hot, something from a holiday you once had in the Caribbean where it was 40 degrees C +. You look at Death and ask "What's the plan, how does it work?" Death looks on, towering down at seven foot, "It won't be long now, your destination awaits you through that door, I won't be coming any further, I'm just the Keeper between reality." You ask if he knows where you are going, he looks around and says, "Ever been to see your worst nightmare, through this door your credentials will be checked, whilst you're only a youngen compared to others, everybody has a duty of repentance. You are no different, but here in Post Room 101 your have been assigned, oh yes I see it coming, your host is He Himself, Number 666. You see, well I suppose you don't, everything from the Soul Cake to the Faithful questions has been a test of judgement for us to help with your credentials, you will be sentenced. 666 will thoroughly check your History of Life, your Perception of life is just a Dream compared to others."

You begin to worry, you don't understand, your scared of what may lie ahead, you might be a peace but you are most certainly alive and in fear of what may be waiting ahead. As you approach the door for your turn you can't turn the handle. You say "I can't turn the handle it's stuck", Death checks all the paperwork, notes in order, murmurs something about it being the first of October, looks up at you... "Sorry, got the wrong day, your not due until when your 66."

At which point he clicks his fingers everything turns foggy and you wake up in a cold sweat back in bed recovering from your bout of flu. Shocked and scared stiff you look around, alive again, the last thing you remember hearing is, Death yelling in the distance, "Just another 101 days to correct all the misgivings, you got a second chance." Your grand-daughter is reading your favourite poem by Edgar Allan Poe, "All that we see or seem, is but a Dream Within a Dream."

Sweating like a mad man, you wonder was it a dream, was it an illusion or are you destined for dispatch to the after life, are the wheels in motion for a more timely death, your perception of reality deceiving you. Your grand daughter looks up at you, " Granddad a really tall gentleman came in and left you a cake, look." You do, on the side the very same one as you thought you ate sits wrapped and freshly baked.

* ** *** *** *** ** *

Optical Dice Illusion
Which way round are these Di stacked?
Count the numbers on the Di.
Try adding them up too.
Answer: 666 does exist.

I wasn't expecting that number at all myself either -freaky!
I just wanted an illusional image.

Illusion: A: The Perception of Reality
B: An erroneous Concept or belief
C: The condition of being deceived by a false perception or belief.
D: A fine transparent cloth, used for dresses or trimmings.

With the aid of Writer's Island Prompts 2011#5: Illusion.

Choices

Sometimes it is hard to choose which is the best of photos from a collection, here within the space of a minute due to the camera angle and the sunset pace the hue's have changed and changed the topic of the photo.

So I bring both, because each tells a story, a story of a cold winters night, where the due forms in the rolling hill side, producing mists, fogs and brief cloud layers along the ground, where the "red sky at night brings the shepherds delight".

This also marks my 100th post. Keep in touch.

P.s. Apologies, it seems uploading destroys the pixel quality. The expanding option is pretty rough on them and the entry originals are much darker, having uploaded them.

Ah! ... Los!

... What are we doing? Abandonment


Into my eyes I see not, will not.
Tell me if you are out there.
Running in the fields, up the paths...across the lines?
Fallen back through time to when sand was red and rotten,
playing in the park and running over puddles of water...and into streams.

Down the tracks and into the misty past,
goalless, sourceless, timeless.

Destiny (for Writers Island)

Bill Frymire

Well it's been a little while since I said to myself I'll write a Happy New Year entry, to myself. In the end I find we are now half way into the month already. Just 50 more weeks until 2012 - boo, wow. Oh dear.

Having spotted Destiny on Writer's Island, I thought, what is my destiny? The reason being it was my birthday this week, and so what does life entail for me. Am I grabbing it by the wings hard enough, probably not. Am I doing what I can in order to grab it by the wings, beginning too.

Whatever my destiny is, some higher power seems to have decided what I'm here for, but I have no clue what triumph I am expected to find in the future, so I have looked back on my successes of the last 10 years. In that time so much has happened, and yet in many ways so little.

From learning to play a musical instrument, knowing enough to pick it up again and not feel the pains as was back some eight years ago when I stopped. I've completed stacks of academic learning, school, undergraduate and postgraduate education. Whilst lacking, the spirit lives on to cycle, and I've ridden for two BHF cycle rides, travelled parts of Europe for music bands and done fieldwork across the UK, France and Malta. I've found so many friends and families, I've met lots of people. And because I'm good with faces (not so much names, sorry) I can place people. (However big the world can feel at times). I am grateful for some of mum's traits too, the ability to talk to anyone on nearly any subject, - much tougher these days for one reason or another- still shy occasionally or feeling too ill or too much on my mind, and abilities to pick up completely random topics, to help a wide range of people. But destiny see, had it's say, and Mum didn't get to see the last nine years of these accomplishments. Well, you never know, the powers that be maybe around, looking down from the sky and watching us.

So many events, and so many memories, from one decade to the next, what will it bring? Having completed a 1/4 to 2/5 of my life, on the national average scale. I better get a grip and start making this decade count just as much as the last one did. Even with the ups and downs, it's already been a journey. The first two and a bit decades are chapters closed although post scripts come along every so often, so let's start living and making the next bit worthwhile.

Tell me, Destiny, where are we going to go today?

Winification Surreal Days