The Urbаn Prophet™ 5.0

I came across this song the other, watching an ad for that new Left 4 Dead game... They only used a bit of the hook and the chorus in the ad but I thought, "Hey, this sounds cool... I gotta get it." So I keyed in what bit of the lyrics I remembered, in this case "Bang, bang, bang, bang. Vamanos, vamanos" and lo I found the song... Being the good samaritan I am, rather than ripping it off youtube, I decided to purchase it off iTunes... Some people may say it's too dear to buy your own content, but hey, if everyone pirates the stuff your literally stealing money from the producer, in this case a semi-unknown band (well semi-unknown here in the UK) that I like...

A few weeks ago, I stopped over at a 7-Eleven after a night out partying to pick up a few things to help maintain my then fickle sobriety. U know various things ur supposed to consume in order to increase your mental faculties whilst under the influence (e.g. bread, water, soya milk etc). To be honest I allocate all these remedies to the status of old wives tales because, seriously, no amount of soya milk will ever fool a breathalizer nor will it help u maintain a straight line while walking. Never the less, it does give me a certain piece of mind that I did at least try to un-intoxicate myself. I do have to say that it is a stupid, stupid thing to drive under the influence and you would have to be an selfish idiot who's totaly inconsiderate about the safety of others around him. Well I guess that roughly me in a nutshell when I've been drinking, so god help me.

Anyway, so there I was at 7-E, I paid up for my stuff then proceeded to exit the shop. Staggering slightly out of the door, I was approached by a shortish man brandishing a motorcycle helmet who asked me for the time. Being the good samaritan that I am I looked down to my watch and told him that it was already, SMACK! I kind of reeled around as I got a shoulder full of helmet. It really didn't hurt that much as he hit the more fleshier parts of my shoulder but it was more the shock of being hit that got to me. First the shock, then I got angry.

I've been told that I can be an angry drunk, and I do try to control myself so as not to be too embarrassed of myself in the morning but being hit outside a 7-Eleven at 5 o'clock in the morning is a little too much for me to bare. I kind of bellowed and returned a few good blows upon my assailant. Really good, hard whacks, really it was. Unfortunately a majority of the blows landed on his helmet which was quite painful for the fingers. I managed to finally smack him one in the face which caused him to drop his helmet and lo! I suddenly was holding the hardest thing between us, It was a god send, one which I didn't use to wisely though. I kind of just chucked it at him. Luckily though, the helmet hit him right into his face and I guess I broke his nose or something because I ended up with blood on my shirt, this action thankfully floored my assailant. My first thoughts were, "Yeah, now I'm going to mug you!".

While all this was happening, which it did so rather quickly, I didn't notice that my assailants companion was waiting for him on his bike about ten meters away. When my aggressor got floored he promptly jumped off his conveyance to run to his companions aid. He did this with a small blade in hand with the intention I guess, to introduce me to internally. Fearing an unwanted reprisal I threw my watch and mobile at him along with my shopping, and ran back to my car. Looking back, I think perhaps I didn't need to chuck my stuff and should have just ran but hey, what's to stop him from running up behind me and turning my behind into something reminiscent of a pin cushion? All in all I'm glad I managed to get away more or less unscathed....

"Daddy he once told me son you be hard workin man,
And momma she once told me son you do the best you can.
But, then one day I met a man who came to me and said,
Hard work good, and hard work fine but first take care of head..."

"Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light,
to chase a feather in the wind.
Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight,
There moves a thread that has no end.
For many hours and days that pass ever soon,
the tides have caused the flame to dim.
At last the arm is straight, the hand to the loom
Is this to end or just begin?
All of my love, all of my love, All of my love to you, now."
All of My Love - Led Zeppelin

“I can’t breathe! Isabel thought to herself in a sudden flash of consciousness as she fought to free herself from what felt like warm treacle. She was floating in the mass of sticky, greasy, gooey liquid and at this point in time, it made up her entire world. There seemed to be other things floating in there with her but she couldn’t quite make out what they were but they felt cramp and uncomfortably close to her. She thought she could see light above her but it was very faint and so distant that she just couldn’t tell. To be honest, she couldn’t really tell if what she thought was up was really up. Her eyes could barely make out a warm red glow above her, but her vision seemed blurry, it was like the substance surrounded her was opaque enough for her to see light but not much else. Isabel felt confused, where was she, how did she get here. Her head ached, and she felt dazed as if she just woke up from an unusually long sleep. Pain throbbed in her head, a constant film wrapped over everything else going through her mind but wasn’t so bad as to turn her incognisant.

Her movements felt slow and laboured as she fought to right herself in the surrounding ooze. How did she get here? She could barely remember her name let alone what caused her to be here in the first place. Regardless how she got here, she realized that she was quickly running out of air and options, she needed to find air and quickly. So she struggled, grasping towards what she thought was up at anything and everything to try and drag herself through the sticky mess.

As she grabbed and grappled through the mess, she suddenly felt something grab back at her hands. To her horror, she realised that there were other things down here with her! Screaming, she wrenched her arm back from whatever it was that held her and kicked with all her might to move upwards. It took everything that Isabel had to hold on to what little reality she had left in her mind to not take a breath and breathe in the repugnant gunk that surrounded her. She was surrounded by whatever it was that grabbed her. The hand, or at least she thought it was a hand, felt weak and it didn’t take much for her to pull out of its grip. Whatever it was, Isabel realised that she didn’t have time to neither panic nor speculate and she continued to pull her self up. She felt as if she was crawling through bodies, which like everything else right now, felt slimy and greasy to the touch.

The light above her seemed to get brighter and brighter so she assumed that she was reaching the surface. She pulled herself through the mass of things that surrounded her. Sure enough, she suddenly felt hands grasping at air so she thrashed with her legs with all her might managed to pull her head out of the goo that surrounded her. As her head crested through the gunk Isabel took one deep gasp of air then screamed with all her might a wail that was a mixture of sheer terror, confusion and panic. Sobbing in terror she paddled her way to the side of what seemed to her to be a huge pool. It took her almost five minutes to reach one of the sides as the goo she moved through clung to her, as if it was trying to keep her in place, holding her back. Furthermore, she was still pretty much blind and deaf as the gunk she was in, covered her face and gummed up her ears. When she finally grasped something solid it turned out to be one of the sides of this huge ‘pool’. It felt course and grainy to the touch, much like rough concrete. She pulled herself up the side and with all her might pushed herself up and out of the warm treacle liquid that was surrounding her. With a loud plopping sound, she managed to pull herself free and she fell over the side of the ‘pool’ into a pile of what felt like powdery sand. Her body felt racked with pain as she pulled her self free, that she was struck dumb with shock. It felt like every single nerve ending under her skin suddenly screamed out all at once as she fell out from the pool. She convulsed in the sand as pain racked through her body in diminishing waves.

After a minute or so she finally managed to get enough sense in her to huddle up against the side of the ‘pool’ she had been in. She pulled her legs up to her chest as she sat there trying desperately to clear all the gunk and goo out of her eyes and ears. When she finally could see she realised was completely naked. She felt even more confused, where was she? How did she get here? Where’s Sam? Sam…

The name resonated in her mind, the name of her husband for over thirty years. Sam had always been there for her through thick and thin. Completely dependable was her dear old Sam but where was he now? As she sat there sobbing, Isabel looked at her hands and realised that they looked different. Through the reddish gunk and goo that covered here, her hands looked to her to be much too young to be the hands she remembered having. Looking at herself she felt shocked, she seemed to have the body she remembered having when she was still twenty! What was going on?

She tried her very best to remember something, anything that could shed light to her situation one way or the other. Slowly some vague memories came back to her. She remembered cooking dinner for Sam and that they had had an argument about where to go over the holidays during dinner. She was partial to the Canary Islands and he wanted to go somewhere different for a change. She remembered trying to leave in a huff with the excuse that she needed to get some milk. She never really liked change and she knew Tenerife like the back of her hands, why should she go somewhere new? Whatever it is, all that seemed so far away and so long ago for some reason. As usual Sam didn’t let her go alone and drove her to the shops, and she remembered leaving in the car but that’s when everything goes hazy. All she knew now was that she wanted her Sam back, or rather she wanted to get back to her Sam.

As she pulled herself to her feet, she felt that her legs were still a bit weak and she had to steady herself on the side of the ‘pool’ she was in which went up to just about her hips. It was then that she realised that the ‘pool’ she had been in was actually a huge fountain, immense in proportions, it was circular in shape and its other side seemed to be over 500 feet away as far she could tell. In the middle of it, it had a tall spire that seemed to be made of the same white stone as the rest of the fountain. It seemed to strangely glow an eerie white light. It had a thick base that tapered off to a point and stood roughly ten stories in height. The spire had ornate carvings going in a spiral up to the point of people walking up a set of stairs who judging by the costumes they were came from different backgrounds and even eras. Some seemed oriental, some seemed European, some she just couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be, but all were looking up as they continuously marched up the stairs. Red liquid shot out in spouts along the sides of the spire and from its top, the same red liquid that Isabel had been struggling to get out off not ten minutes ago.

She looked into the fountain and saw that the liquid had a reddish, oily sheen to it and she could just make out her reflection. What she saw shocked her. Her face seemed, just as with the rest of her, seemed twenty years younger than the forty-six she was supposed to be. As she stood there transfixed at her reflection, to her horror another face emerged out of the water. She screamed in shock and took a few steps back from the fountain but then she stopped herself.

She looked carefully at the face and it seemed to her that it was asleep. As she raised her gaze and looked around inside the fountain, she saw that it was filled with what must have been thousands upon thousands of people but they seemed strange, like they were incomplete. Her mind spun as she desperately tried to process the information she had at hand.

“Who are these people? Isabel thought in confusion, what does this all mean?

As she looked around her she realised that there were other fountains around her but since they’re dimensions were so huge, she couldn’t really tell how many they were. However, she quickly realised, just like the fountain crawled out of, all of the other fountains around her that she could see had spires and she counted over twenty spires, but there could have been more.

“What kind of place is this? Isabel thought, that had monster sized glowing fountains full of people?

It was then that she noticed that there was a path of cobblestone over the sand that surrounded the fountain, that cut between her fountain and the next.

“Might as follow it, Isabel thought to herself.

As she walked on the path, she realised that there was no wind at all. Even though she was as naked as the day she was born, she did not feel cold. Actually, neither did she feel warm, or anything at all as if the airs temperature was indistinguishable from her own body’s. Furthermore, even though there was light all around her, there was no sun to be seen, then again, neither were there any clouds to speak of either, just an endless sea of unblemished perfectly blue sky.

The path she was on wound its way lazily along the side of her fountain and on to the next. Isabel thought that perhaps this meant that all the fountains were set in a spiral with the path running alongside it. Again, this was impossible for her to tell from her vantage point. The path was pretty wide though, roughly thirty feet across.

As she rounded the end of the second fountain, she heard a strange slurping sound in front of her. As she neared what she thought was the source of the sucking, slurping sound it stopped abruptly. She noticed in the distance what seemed to be a very large grey boulder resting along the side of the path. It was huge, almost thirty feet tall. As she drew closer she noticed it had a pebbly, gravely texture. Closer still she saw what seemed to be some kind of black plant hanging from its side, its thick black vines dangled into the fountain swaying slowly back and forth.

“That’s odd, thought Isabel as she stood there, arms across her chest, how can they be moving when there’s no breeze to speak off?

“The Self is the hub of the wheel of life,
And the sixteen forms are only the spokes.
The Self is the paramount goal of life.
Attain this goal and go beyond death!”
- Prashna Upanishad

“The universe that we inhabit and our shared perception of it are the results of a common karma. Likewise, the places that we will experience in future rebirths will be the outcome of the karma that we share with the other beings living there. The actions of each of us, human or nonhuman, have contributed to the world in which we live. We all have a common responsibility for our world and are connected with everything in it.”
- H.H. The 14th Dalai Lama

I always thought of myself as a strong man. These hands of mine, looked like such strong hands and many a times throughout my life it was through the strength of these hands alone did I persevere. I would brag to friends and to whomever would listen about the supposed strength of my arms. How brash, how bold and headstrong I was, ah for the supposed immortality of youth I would sing ballads of the feats I had and would achieve. In hindsight, how inconsequential it all seems now, how unnecessary, how unimportant as I lay here now watching the blood of my veins, the water of my heart pour out of me like wine from a pitcher, an unintentional offering by them to their Great Mother Ki you could say. For all my supposed strength and virility, cowed am I by a simple four-inch blade carried by a hidden agent of anger and hate, a student of my art, cast from the same mould as I.

It was with an awesome suddenness that I find myself facing my end. I see before me the great big emptiness that many a men I have thrown into and I suppose it is only fitting that this is the end that I deserve. To have the one truth whispered into my ear and the only possession anyone truly has in this world stripped from my hands. Every life must end, that is the one truth, thought to me by all my teachers, a truth which I have thought to all of my students. The one true possession is the breath that you breathe and it is this breath, which is the one, and true gift the gods have bestowed to the entire Universe. Your mind, your spirit, your soul, all are wind in the sky and air that you breath, or at least that is what the ancients have thought us. Now I lie here undone, my life is taken for the gold of another; my breath is slowly taken from me. I feel neither cheated nor defrauded nor my life cut short, for my life has been long and I recognise that my time here is done.

Prior to this, it was by sheer force of will and strength of hand that I survived it all, floods, fires, wars and famines, I traversed more than my fair share of difficulties in this life and in return received more than my worth in glory I suppose, but in my defence I relied on nothing more than myself. I’ve have shown many to the end of their path and commanded many a men who would do my bidding without thought of their own safety. I trained many a good men in my arts, and shown them the joy of the One Truth. In my youth many great deeds did I command Now I find myself an old tired man, tired of this world, made weary from this wound but how sweet life was in my youth. In my time, what adventures did I brave, what excitement did I feel and what wonders have I seen. I have been the King of Kings, Lord of Kulaba. I have led and the people have followed. For I was the Knife of Uruk, the Butcher of Eridu, the Messenger of Nirgal, the Shepherd of Signs, the Great Thief, He Whose Father Was a Phantom, and by so many, many other names have I been known. I came to this land and greatness was not handed to me, instead I took it, so where I went death was sure to follow. The Children of the Land between the Rivers cowered in the shadow of a foreigner.

You see, I wasn’t born here; I came from a land far away, far past the deserts to the east, under the ceiling of the sky, past the navel of the earth. In the land where the gods are our kings and their prophets our ministers, where divinity is so close to the earth that the land is itself is the holy of holies. I came here to the Land Between the Rivers as young man to ply my trade. A simple barber was I, but truth be told so deft I was with my blade that more then just hair was what I cut. My journey here was long and fraught with danger, but my people are a sea-faring race and hardy are in the arts of the sea. Over twelve moons and almost uncountable leagues I travelled over the seas, I the captain’s barber and simple crewman. Many adventures, many feats, so many acts of bravery I can’t begin to tell you all of them. I will leave it to the bards to tell my story.

I’ve always considered myself a very physical person, my wants, my needs, my expectations all revolved around what I could see, feel, touch, hear or taste, upon my senses that defined my world. Gold was my one motivation, my one calling and my one religion. Across the sea I travelled from port to port, city to city, country to country searching for my personal god, selling my talents and practicing my art before I came here, to this land. It was here that I encountered the first mention of my future brothers, they who thought me all that I know now. It was through them that I find myself in the position that I am now. They made me king, only to take it all that meant anything at all away from me. However, I feel neither hate nor need for revenge and see their work as one that was inevitable.

Though this beautiful city between the rivers of the Idigina and the Buranun, with towers of earth rising to the sun is now my home, I still long for the forests of my childhood, thick and lush, on the islands of my youth, my one wish is that my spirit may one day again find the shade of the banyans of my village. This is a city of the uncultured who think themselves cultured; they have no concept of the one true philosophy and know nothing of the old faith, however to my new countrymen, I suppose it is I whom they consider to be the barbarian. They know not of the great achievements of the Peoples of the Eastern Seas. They know not our splendid towers nor our great works and our arts.

Looking back now as I lay here, I have several regrets I suppose. I never found myself a wife nor knowingly did I father any children. However, considering the nature of my livelihood I would have to suppose that this was for the best. No woman nor child deserves a man of such uncertainty as I. It was actually a blessing that I spurned the Priestess of Inanna, never mind her curses and rants. A child of such a union would never live a happy life and the gods forbid that the child would follow in my way and live the life I’ve lead. However, my regret is that the line of my fathers would end so with me. With my death, so die my family and the name of my fathers.

However, there is no point in fearing the inevitable, it’s not as if this turn of events was unexpected. I chose the path the lead me here, it wasn’t as if I did not foresee the results of my actions. I realised my mistake when I found myself alone. Where were my servants, where were my attendants? It was then that it dawned on me that I was about to be visited by a messenger. I knew this would come and it was with great relief that it did. When the messenger whispered the one truth in my ear and showed me the great emptiness that follows, I smiled and asked him why he did not come sooner. He laid my head upon a pillow then told me that he came when he was supposed too, no sooner nor later.

So as I lay here, reading the prayers of my childhood, I feel my life slowly ebb and depart from me, the threads that bind me to this body slowly unwinding, I read the prayer thought to me by my mother and to her my mothers mother and so forth to the very beginning, that tells a story that supposedly was brought to us by our children from far into the future. As I read the words, of how our world began, I slowly begin to die.

Where are you? I call out. Searching for the one who should lead me into the Empty. I am lost for I can’t see my path.

Nothing.

Where are you? I call again. Where are you my guide into the Nothing?

No answer.

I see the emptiness before me unfold as the light from this world fades. My sight slowly dims as I turn my face from this life. I realise that it isn’t darkness that I’m beginning to see, but rather the absence of light. It’s the feeling of not feeling anything at all that begins to taste my soul. I feel the last beats my heart slowly flitters away, and I begin to hear nothing at all. Strangely as I feel my body die around me, I notice my mind still conscious and alert but devoid of sensation.

Where are you my guide? My partner? If you lead I will follow. I call out yet again, voicelessly.

Lead me oh guide. Lead me and light my way. I am done with this world and I long for the next.

I am here.

“…One day (He) was travelling through the villages of India with his attendants. He saw a man doing walking meditation whose face was lit up in wonder. The man had just discovered something on the ground in front of him. (His) attendants asked what that was and (He) replied, "A piece of truth." "Doesn't this bother you when someone finds a piece of the truth, O evil one?" his attendants asked. "No," (He) replied. "Right after this they usually make a belief out of it."…”
- Buddhist Tale

He was a solitary man. He stayed by himself, had few friends and hadn’t talked to another member of his family in the last ten years, actually for all he knew, he WAS the last member of her family. Overweight and angry, you could say that experience has caused Him to have a rather salty viewpoint regarding life in general. He was under the impression that if you looked at life like a game of poker, the hand that he was dealt included the joker and two blank cards mysteriously added to the deck. His mum used to tell him when she was still alive that when life gave you lemons, you should make lemonade, but unfortunately for Him, lemonade gave him heartburn. His negative perspective on everything coloured all his perceptions a nasty shade of unsightly grey. He was far from being happy with his lot in life and he felt that there was no way for his to improve it, and chances are, he’d kill you if you ever tried to prove to her otherwise. By the accounts of all who knew him, saying He was an unpleasant man would be too much of an understatement.

The real victims of His unpleasantness however, had no say in the matter one way or the other and were completely and utterly at his pleasure. He was the proud owner of one of London’s largest textile mills this side of the Thames and under his employ was some 400 young girls the oldest of whom was 19 and the youngest 7. He was a mean spirited man and spared none of them the rod if he saw it necessary and even if it wasn’t. Room and board was what they received and a pittance of spending money.

Conditions were rank and thoroughly foul and many girls fell ill but regardless none was allowed any rest outside the Sabbath. Needless to say, many girls did try their best to leave; however as most of them were indentured by their parent’s debts it was illegal for them to do so. As runaways were a frequent problem, he took it upon himself to keep the girls under lock and key; every door to the outside world from his mill was locked with the only key being held by him. He employed several foremen who were just as heavy handed as him to keep the girls in check.

In contrast to the abject suffering and hardship his girls had to endure, his life then was one of leisure and luxury. He allowed himself all the best comforts that the money he earned off of the sweat of their toil could buy. Never once sharing his wealth with anyone else other then himself. Many would say he was an evil, greedy man, and truth be told he was. Never once in his entire life had he ever thought about anyone else other then himself. Never once had he ever tempered any of his decisions on the off chance that the choices he made may cause harm, always greed and self-centred greed had been his one and only motivation in his life. Altruism was truly an alien concept that was lost on him.

Well now the fruits of his actions have finally come home to roost. When he stood there at the dock of the Old Bailey, he was at a loss of words trying to explain his actions, his actions that led to the deaths of every single employee working at his mill that fateful evening. As he stood and heard the judge pronounce his verdict, his heart sank, heavy with guilt. Yes he was a selfish, yes he was greedy and yes he was ill tempered to the point of being unbearable, but that still didn’t make him such a monster as to not feel guilt over the deaths of 105 young girls.

He never meant any harm to come to them; they weren’t supposed to have been in the factory when he had the fires set. They were supposed to have been out of the factory by the time the first fires were lit. How was he to know that they were still inside when he locked the doors that fateful evening? He wanted to get rid of one of the old storehouses next to his mill but he felt it would be just too costly to simply demolish it. Furthermore, he would have lost all the money he’d paid to insure the building over the years. The most logical thing to do, he thought, would be to burn the building down, after all he’d kill two birds with one stone, he’d get rid of the building plus gain a pretty penny in insurance claims.

How was he to know that the fire would spread to the mill? How was he to know that his Senior Foremen had kept some of the girls back to finish an advance order? He did know that the doors would be locked, because that was his standing policy, the doors would only be opened once the work was done for the day, or night. The girls had no chance at all.

His heart felt torn asunder with unfamiliar feelings of guilt and pain for truly did he feel remorse. Never in his life had he felt anything for anyone other then himself and now he could hardly breathe. All around him, all he could see were the sad eyes of the innocents whose deaths he was to blame for. This burning, retching feeling scored his soul almost to the point of turning him catatonic with despair.

His guilty feelings aside, he was sentenced to ten years hard labour for criminal negligence. As they took him away from the courthouse, tears welled up in his eyes and he cried for the first time, tears not of shame but teas of mourning. The following day a guard found him hanging from from the bars of his cell with a note clenched in his hands with the words, “I’m sorry.” scrawled in charcoal.

"Love is from the infinite, and will remain until eternity.
The seeker of love escapes the chains of birth and death.
Tomorrow, when resurrection comes,
The heart that is not in love will fail the test."
- Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī

Don’t leave me baby, I can’t do this alone. How am I going to carry on without you? Please, oh god, don’t die on me babe! Just hold on baby, the paramedics are almost here. God oh god oh god. Can you hear me? Talk to me baby, say something, anything, just don’t sleep. Shit, fuck keep it together baby, don’t fall asleep!

I can’t believe this what the fuck. Why the hell did he have to shoot? Baby, just hold on please. Where are the hell are those paramedics? Oh lord, there’s just so much blood, oh shit. I can’t believe this is happening. This isn’t happening, oh god! Where the hell are they!

Oh god no! Please baby just hold on a little longer, just a little longer, come on you know you can sweety. Baby can you hear me? Please say something! Oh god, oh god, oh god no! Somebody please help us!

I’m so sorry that I was yelling at you earlier baby, it was my fault. I was the dick. Please baby, forgive me, I didn’t mean to get so angry at you just now. Just please talk to me Sweetie. I know I shouldn’t have yelled at you babe, it was such a little thing too, I’m sorry. Please babe, please don’t die! Somebody help us, please!

Shit, I think that’s the paramedics babe, oh thank god. Hang in there, sweetheart. It’s about time you guys showed up, what the hell! Please, please save her. Yes, I’m her husband. She.. She went into the shop to get some milk and then this guy robbed the place. I’m not really sure what happened but his gun went off or something. No she has no allergies. Please, can I follow in the ambulance?

Baby, hang in there, we’re going to the hospital so everything’s going to be ok. It’s going to be ok…..

Never take life too seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway.
- Elbert Hubbard

Well I managed to get the first post for "The Great I Am" up. Initially I had written like 2k+ words but decided to lop it down a bit because I was repeating myself too much... Any comments would be much appreciated and if u notice any spelling rrors etc, pls do tell me...