lunedì 29 agosto 2016

Erik, the guard of the lighthouse

Four hundred ninety-eight, four hundred ninety-nine,  five hundred.
Two rounds and the door unlocks.
Inside the room there's nothing irregular, the same old chair uncomfortable  enough to keep you awake, next to that an as much old table with a book and an oil lamp on top of it.
I slowly ascend the metallic staircase to observe the last moments of light of the day.
The already red sun lays lazy at the horizon.
I gaze at the crimson sky for some more minutes then I slowly descend the staircase, I open the electric compartment I pull up the main switch and the cyclops' glance lightens the night, I close the electric compartment and I slowly get to the old chair, I light on the oil lamp and I start reading.
The hous pass by and I read.
I read of distant and exotic lands blessed by the sun, I read of luxurious palaces and courthouse lives, I read of impenetrable forests, bandits' nests and hidden treasures. I read.
Past the half of the fourth hour I close the book, better to rest my eyes.
The sea is restless tonight and the unmistakable smell of rain permeates the air.
I reach my bag and I pick out a small packet of dried elk meat, I open it and I start to consume it by tiny bites, slowly tasting each piece.
In a small port town like Kyrniavjk  wild meat is a luxury one could enjoy few times during the year.
Common people reserves it for "special occasions".
As for me, up in the solitude of this tower the nights all look-alike and I have no "special nights" to reserve these little pleasures to, so when I happen to find myself something the like of this I try to make it last the longer I could.
Little pleasures could fill up great voids sometimes...
As I had foreseen the bad weather did not delay that much, from the windows I manage to see a lightning ripping apart the nocturnal sky, following that the roar of the thunder and the clattering of the rain, firstly weak then growing stronger and louder filling the air of the night.
Few hours remain until dawn.
I put back the dry meat in my bag and I pull out my pipe and some tobacco, there's nothing better than a few breaths of bitter smoke for contemplating in silence the concert that the celestial orchestra is offering tonight.
I breath in the smoke and I hold it on my palate for a few seconds then I breath out deeply.
I light off the lamp I want just the lightnings from outside the windows and the cinder of my pipe to lighten the dark.
I stay still, listening.
The waves that crush on the cliffs, the pelting of the rain, the roar of the thunder...even tough there's no drums to give a rythm, a structure to the work of these instruments, even tough there's no director conducing this orchestra, I could feel harmony in the immensity.
The notes of this "symphony of no one" lull me and the time quickly passes by.
Those that to me seemed like a handful of solemn minutes were actual hours.
The orange-pink light of the dawn wakes me up from that sort of open-eyed dream, I put back the pipe in my bag and I reach to the elctric panel, I pull the switch down, time for the cyclop to return to his slumber.
Slowly I get to the exit, two rounds and the door is locked.
Painfully I start to go down the stairs.
Five hundred, four hundred nienty-nine, four hundred ninety-eight...

domenica 21 agosto 2016


I go down the stairs towards the massive door, getting closer all I could hear is silence.
I open the door and move the torch in front of me to light my steps. I lock the door.
In front of me a long corridor with bars on both sides.
There's Silence, it won't last long.
I Make two steps forward and all of a sudden roars and sounds twitching jaws fill the air while frantic bony arms reach out from the bars into the gloom to grab whatever might be at their reach.
I start my walk down the aisle proceeding along the center towards my guarding spot at the end of the room.
I know I shouldn't look, I know Inshould keep on walking straigh on my feet but there is something grim, something magnetic into observing the cinder red reflection that glows in their eyes under the torch's light.
I keep on walking, I get to my guarding position, I sit, to my right I hang the torch, to my left stands the alarm bell rope.
Another night guarding the Legion has begun.

domenica 29 novembre 2015

My Recent Dantesque Journey of Introspection

As I was solo climbing the mountain of Purgatory in an attempt to reach the garden of Eden, blinded by my ambition I could not notice that I was losing energy and could not go further withot resting, but I kept on going and on a faithful day while traversing the plane populated by those who sinned of violence in search for a path for further ascention I was drained of all my strenght and fell back into Inferno, more precisely I fell in the depths of Styx's swamps joining the damned for Sloth....

As I stayed there paralyzed in a lethargic state growing weaker every month that passed by suddenly the unforeseeable happened, from above with all its might a white lighting stroke directly trough my heart and my body started convulsing and burning of a flame tha does not consumes.

Feeling more enough than recharged I swam my way outta the Styx and I started descending the Inferno moved by that fire that was burning within me, that same fire lit my way into that darkness and guided my steps away from demons and tamptation that would have corrupted me.

My journey trough the depths of the human soul continued as my restless spirit kept on piercing that darkness, I descended past the frozen lake Cogito and arrived to the bottom of Inferno facing for four days and four nights the One that once was called "The bringer of light".

As the dawn of the fifth day was getting closer and both of us were wounded and worn out because of the fierce duel between equals that had taken place he spoke to me with these words:

"Mortal you don't belong in this place of sinners and empty souls, not for now at least, but looking trough your eyes I see the scars of a fallen angel and the abyss you carry within, I can tell for sure that this isn't your first time trying to join the Empireal and failing in your quest for ascention and because of that I'm sure we will see each other again in a future time, but for today you may pass and join those souls who are spending centuries and millenia looking for the salvation they were granted"

A flash of light blinded me and I found myself liying on the shores of Purgatory yet another time.

Weaker than before but still present that flame within commanded me to stand onto my feets and to proceed to walk yet another path of ascention, and so carrying nothing with me I started walking, the day passed by and I started to notice that I was not able to feel the warmth that the flame used to radiate, so I decided to set camp and wait.

Now I'm still here waiting on the plane populated by those who sinned for Greed, aware of how weak I can be as a single individual, waiting for something or maybe for someone that would accompany me on my journey, for the only way for sharing wisdom is by traveling together, observing, knowing and learning from each other.

mercoledì 4 febbraio 2015

Drafts from "Mindfulness tips from an everyday guy"

First I wanna point out I'm no meditation guru or whatever, these you're gonna read are just observations I could make from my personal experience so are 100 % subjective, those work good for me but might not do as well for everybody.

Dear mindful reader you got that clear? Well then, we shall proceed...

-- Hawke Isaacs

domenica 1 febbraio 2015

Drafts from "Apologies to my 25 readers"

Feb 2nd 2015 22:00 ITALY:

Time runs fast and I gotta get enough sleep for tomorrow, so I had to start it this way, as a draft, one of the many that will follow because, hell yes I have a damned need to write and I'm just sick tired of keeping stuff for myself in a Dropbox folder and as the frenetic life I'm living in the present days allows me to dedicate really little and badly spread slices of time to the craft of writing I have to do it via mobile devices most of the times.
So here I am generating fragments of a mosaic I don't have the time to recompose, this place is meant to be an offspring of the postmodernistic thought and way of life, so to put it in simple words a chaotic, messy and controversial blog.
Because that's who I am, a full fledged son of Postmoderrnism that has just awakened from the modern dream.

-- Hawke Isaacs

domenica 1 giugno 2014


breathe in,
breathe out,

a circle shrinks,
a circle expands,

reality materializes,
reality fades,


Meditation is all about focusing your mind on the duality and ambiguty of reality.
Becoming aware that there's no such thing as a self or an individual you embark on a journey to elevation...
You will then come across a paradoxal crossroads, either becoming one with the existence or existing no more.
Enlightenment is such, when you reach a state of awareness that will allow you to overcome the paradox and become like

light both wave and matter and neither of them.

-- Hawke Isaacs


What's left to an angel with wrecked wings?

Fallen,chained to the abyss,
I look to the impentetrable blanket of clouds above me
I see the skies form whence I was exiled
I see my brothers flying free
I grind my teeth and scream
I curse the sun, the god that condemned me to this fate.

Afflicted by eternal solitude
I wander within the mortals
wishing the day I tasted ambrosia
were never been.

-- Hawke Isaacs