Edited 10 Jan 08, 9.03pm

Eternity. How does eternity exist?

Eternity shouldn't just be forever and ever. In fact, eternity exists only when it exists. And only something which surpasses death can be an eternity. A person can't be eternity in body, but that same person can be an eternity in soul and in beliefs.

We are mortals; we die at the drop of the hat sometimes. But we as mortals bring with us precious ideals, notions that although need not be groundbreaking, but are eye-openers for others who may have lost their sense of direction. Take honorable Mother Theresa as an example. A century later, we may not know her, may never have seen her picture or heard her talk; but we may still know that in the past, there had been someone who was so selfless.. and that is what I call eternity. An embodiment.

Of course, it has been brought up to me there's such a thing as false eternity, such as when we take up the task of mindless waiting. However, I beg to differ. When we say "I waited an eternity for you to arrive", it would really seem so to the person in discussion. Have you never felt the impatience and restlessness building whenever you waited for someone? When we task ourselves fully to waiting, we give up the option of doing anything else. In doing that, we devote ourselves to wait, something that we biologically, are not programmed to do so being the curious and simulated beings we are.

This eternity is one of a different kind, one which exists only in our minds and feels more real as our physical aspects are agitated by it. This type of eternity is restricted to one person, because only you will feel irritated during the wait and only you can truly convince yourself that you are going to be irritated. This is merely an eternity that exists to fill up time. Then again, eternities mostly exist in our heads and as it is messing around with our minds, it messes with our motions and feelings.

You may then refer me to my previous sentence of 'eternity surpasses death', where the person in the above view is clearly alive. That's where you misunderstand me. Surpassing death does not mean eternity has to outlive you. It means that eternity cannot be measured by life force, but by the meaning of that eternity, the purpose and the length of time that eternity exists for or sometimes perhaps, the hope and wish for that eternity to be omnipresent.

The next time someone talks to you about eternity, ask yourself... is it really eternity?

Relationships, what are they?

An interesting thought occurred to me today. Open up your palms and place them side by side, right next to each other. Look at the lines.

Look at them carefully.

Relationships are like the lines on your palms. These lines crisscross, and are embedded with varying levels of strength into your palms. The deep ones long-lasting, the faint ones changing ever so often.

Your palm resembles you, and the lines your relationships. Every line represent a person, and the depth of the imprint left upon the flesh are indications of how deep a relationship you have with a person. When the lines cross with others, your relationships inter-mix. You'll form groups, and that group together creates more markings on you than individuals do.

You may ask why, and the reason is as simple as basic science gets.

A group simply occupies a greater surface than one lonesome line.

Most have three major lines on each of our palms, and I believe that these three lines belong to anyone who'd marked you significantly. The relationship with these three special person does not have to be an eternity (there's no such thing as it anyway) nor does it have to be your family or your loved ones. It could represent a place, an inanimate object, any living organism in the world, anything that left such a strong memory of themselves in your life.

Because, despite most first reactions and thoughts, a relationship does not have to be with another human being.

You may not have noticed, but the lines on our palms changes. New lines are marked, but the old ones almost never fade away. This curious fact appeals to me, because I believe that one simply does not forget about another. They simply cannot recall. Like how we focus our attention to the new markings upon our skin, we fail to take the old ones into sight. But that doesn't mean that the ancient isn't there.

We bring these markings on every journey we take, even till death.

Such a similarity the lines upon our palms bear to a relationship... how curious...

Between the delirious and the reality, I flirt by the borders every now and then. Melting away, nothing seems to matter much but the mundaneness of the passing day. Clenching, un-clenching, the heart continues to pump and life continues as sure as the sky is endless.

Skin pale as the moonlight, it reflects an unreadable expression. Neither a smile nor a frown, not one of worry or anger; Schooled features, a mask of perfectness that veils something. Like something made of molded clay, permanent and flawless.

This, a facade... I wonder when the day would come for it to be broken.

There was this dialogue in the movie V for Vendetta...

Evey: Who are you?
V: Who? Who is but the form of the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask.
Evey: I can see that.
V: Of course you can, I'm not questioning your powers of observation but the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
Evey: Oh.

Unknowingly, people don on their favourite masks, different ones for different people. That's because people are terrified. Terrified of letting themselves go, horrified at the thought of placing a defenseless self on the front line of fire.

What they do not know, is that by letting themselves go, they create a fearless shield that protects them, because they understand that the abuse received from others is nothing compared to what they feel within themselves.

There is this equation I believe in,

Fear from others (20%) + fear from self (80%) = susceptibility to manipulation by others

Reality compared to your own inner demons are peanuts.

The mind creates the world, the world dominates the mind. What an irony.

Screaming, I hear screams in my head. Howls of anguish and cries of the innocent. Upon the cross I stand, the devil runs amok in the underneath, taking up fellow minions in arms. Lying dormant is the holy, and it continues being so.

I am no believer of faith, yet the shrieks affect me so. Lost, desperate, haunted... countless empty stares pored into me; others pleading for death and release from this worldly hell.

"STOP IT!!" My voice resonates in the hollowness, a soft flicker in the passing storm.

Suffering... so much suffering.... too much...

Too much.....

Darkness overwhelms, and the onslaught of emotions chokes me.

Are we not fellow beings as well?

A stroke of the paintbrush in your memory...

Upon the rough canvas lies happy times that we've shared together. A tear rolls languidly down my cheek, staining the perfect picture dark. Lips trembled at the harsh onslaught, and the heart aches even more so.

Let there be no solace for the lost souls, for the chain once bounded has broken. Wandering amidst the everlasting fog and losing direction, countless phantoms haunt me. But strangely, they're all flawless images of you.

Mourning, how I wished the loss wasn't you. The continuous drift before, could it not be solved otherwise?

Pallor stains my palms, numbness spread over the fingers...

Crimson.