502. Untitled - July 06, 2002 Absinthe makes the mind forget all the things that make life worth living. Finding wisdom at the bottom of a glass, finding oblivion in every sip swallowed. Clarity sought in every drop; but reality fades replaced by emptiness found. Live Life Large Sometimes we drink to forget, sometimes we drink in grand company and make memories. Is likker quicker? Does it go right to our head? One thing's for sure - it won't make us any smarter. The good times or the bad times come no matter what; whether the glass is half empty or half full depends on our point of view. Life is for living; it is best lived with a clear head and a full heart. © Ellie Maziekien 070602 503. Untitled - July 06, 2002 The solid embrace of clear cut crystal filled with liquid gold becomes solace against all that is beyond the now and the here. Slow sips, quick gulps, all serve to make things come away with greater speed than before. Every moment, becomes a march towards both oblivion and forgetfulness. Verbal brilliance becomes a thing of past as words become slurred and garbled in the confusion that reigns. The half glass is but a sign beckoning to be filled again. Heads clear, hearts full, are but what is left of lives lived. Choices Eager, we come again to the font. once there, our steps become hesitant; unsure. we have run the race - only to reach this place of continuing, of choosing. the first heat was filled with moments of simple joy and painful disillusionment, but we have prevailed. Whichever path we take, the future is a journey never before undertaken. Only the bold survive. © Ellie Maziekien 070702 504. Untitled - July 07, 2002 It's an endless marathon being run, twenty-six miles after twenty-six miles. The terrain is rough, and never of our choosing, no byways and highways to distract from the end. The long distance runner becomes but a speck in the horizon that never fades. Every footstep becomes a moment away from the start, towards the unknown; every heartbeat becomes a marker against the winding time. Running like hell, but going no where, that is the marathon in circles. Choose Wisely The race continues. The course we have taken goes farther on and we are given options. Always, we have the opportunity to go one way or another. The alternative is not to try. The realm of the unfamiliar lies before us; a gift to be opened, a riddle to be solved. © Ellie Maziekien 070702 505. Untitled - July 07, 2002 The choice of no choosing; where every race run becomes one without a start nor an end. Options masquerade as reality; and illusion becomes the truth. The white flag flails even as spirits fail; for why run, when there is no solution in sight. Run Like Hell The refusal to choose is a choice of its own. Ambivalence is not the answer. We run because we must. The race goes on if we run or if we stand in one place. Running in place will just tire us out. If your soul is already tired you need to brace yourself, gird your loins, and rejoin the race, even if you feel like stopping. The burden of holding the white flag aloft will bear you down. On your mark. Run. RUN!! © Ellie Maziekien 070802 506. Untitled - July 08, 2002 The race is never won, for life is never done. The soul is weary, as the future is bleary. There is no choice left to make but to run ahead, and claim our stake, until everything becomes a blur. Another case of perpetual motion without any progress; movement for the sake thereof. Momentum Perpetual motion is a myth. Each one of us needs rest. Constant running will kill the best of us the weakest have no chance at all in the race. Forward movement is always progress. At times the growth is so slight, so small, it is unseen. Be assured, it is there. Sometimes it hurts to go on, but there is no growth without pain. We move ahead, soul weary or not. If we stand, unmoving, frozen in time, we admit defeat. © Ellie Maziekien 070802 507. Untitled - July 08, 2002 The pendulum begins to swing backwards, into the past, away from the future. Forwards, sideways, backwards again, minute movements that leave us standing still. There is no progress to be marked; there is no need to reach for the impossible; for the search is laid to rest. Conceding the race before it's run; retreating from life before it's done. The Only Game in Town The pendulum eventually swings back. The past is the past the present is over in an instant. The race is the only game in town. Progress is marked in tiny fragments of time and moments so short, we usually miss them altogether. If you retreat, would you be a recluse and not participate in the richness of life? Even the hermit sitting alone on his mountaintop searches. The meaning of life has eluded him and so he sits and misses out on the glories that occur daily. Just one smile from one who loves us equals the brilliance of the sun. Companions bolster our spirit. That shortens the journey. © Ellie Maziekien 070802 508. Untitled - July 08, 2002 Why live a life of clichés when there are roads less travelled? Why live for tomorrow when today is an age of torment? Why search for glories from afar, when butterflies are miracles in flight? Ultimately, the road chosen may not have risen to meet us at all. Untitled There are times when the road rises to smack us in the face just to make sure we're awake. Tomorrow might be better; we won't know until we get there. A flight of butterflies, wings translucent in the sunlight, is one of the prizes awarded to us each time we finish another heat. © Ellie Maziekien 070802 509. Untitled - July 08, 2002 It's a constant search in life, for the beauty that claims to lie within; for so many have learnt to do without. It's a constant struggle to balance the good with the bad, the here and the now with the past and the future. It's a moment in time stolen when I watch the butterflies dance. Untitled Flowers sway in the soft breeze beckoning their ardent suitors, The bees come, constant and dependable, arrayed in their trusty striped outfits. Other insects are drab; dowdy. They do their job, unseen. The butterfly's beauty equals the flower's. Her wings spread to catch the light, she flits from bloom to bloom ensuring that life goes on. The joy we take from watching her in all her delicate splendor is a gift for our souls as well as our eyes. © Ellie Maziekien 070802