My Hand Fell Off in My Sleep (Part 3) – Mad Chaos: December 4, 1998

What If Time Were Different

Before I try my hand at my latest Sonnet let me try my hand at some more philosophy that I will care not to explain but only question. Time as we know it now, where there are sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour and 24 hours in a day, who created this structure of time. Why does there have to be 24 hours in a day and why do there have to be 265 days in a year.

Well, 265 days is conceivable because the sun and then the moon distinguish a cycle of a day but what distinguishes the use of sixty minutes in an hour and so forth. Why can’t one minute have one hundred seconds, why can’t time be longer or shorter in duration than what we know it to be. What if time was measured at a different rate and there were only nine hours in a day. What if an hour consisted of 40 minutes and one minute consisted of 75 seconds but that was equivalent to 3.2 seconds as we know it.

What if the year was not guided by months and had no weeks or weekends. Ask yourself what would happen if the world were to change time to this measure today. Havoc would ensue the electronic dependant population. Time will still run efficiently as both times run to the same measurement but what will happen to the whole of civilization. With only nine hours in our day what will become of work and will humans survive. If there was still employment how much hours would be worked during a single day and what differences will there be in pay.

Will time seem to pass faster or slower in this existence or will all be thrown into chaos. What can the measure of time do to a civilization, can the whole structure and fabrication of civilization be doomed to chaos or even extinction in our present. Chaos would ensue populations that are dependent on time and even though length of time would not have changed life as we know it would have to change considerably.

When you think about it, a minute goes for such a long time but there seems to be less minutes and hours in the day so which would be more frustrating. This could cause the destruction of order in every day life and hours between night and day will seem so short. I presume that this phantom time frame would not be so disastrous if it had been implemented before our time, maybe it would change things for the better, speed up labor and lengthen philosophy. There now is something for you to think upon, ponder in that thought as I now start my Sonnet.

Finishing the Page First

Well before I print out my poem let me just finish off this page because we can’t have half a poem on one page and then the other half on another page, it just isn’t right. Rather, let me say the time is now 6:12 a.m. and once again without really realizing it time has passed so fluidly. Despite the fact that I’m going to sleep while typing here I have just one more line to write and then I can save this mess and get to sleep, there it is, now for the poem on the other page and after that there is none more, enjoy…

Knowledge is the key to understanding,

Understanding is the key to evolution,

Inspiration is the key to learning,

And to learn is an elaboration,

To understand knowledge is to explain,

To dispute concept is philosophy,

Theory which develops ideas humane,

Contrasting beliefs or Analogy,

The key to gaining knowledge is to learn,

Where philosophy increases knowledge,

To hear such philosophy I shall yearn,

And to speak my mind is a privilege,

This road I travel to find so obscure,

This substance called truth that knowledge procured

The Hand That Fell Asleep

Just one more little note before I disappear into sleep. Last time I slept I woke up in my sleep and was so petrified that I could not feel my right hand. Startled as I opened my eyes I could remember distinctly that there was no feeling in my right hand and as I pushed myself up from my waterbed with my left hand the right hand just jiggled. This was very alarming at this stage and as I intentionally moved my right shoulder to swing my arm from under the pillow it felt like my hand had fallen from the rest of the arm.

For a couple of seconds I thought it to be true and I had to second look my hand just to make sure it was still intact. The reason I couldn’t feel my arm was because it had been under the pillow for who knows how long and that had cut off circulation in my hand. Normally you would get a pin pricking sensation in the area that loses circulation for so long but this was beyond that. Judging by the lack of feeling in my hand as I prodded it with my fingers my right hand felt very heavy when sitting upright and I then knew what people mean by a dead body weighing three times a living body.

Gradually feeling came back into my hand and after five minutes of finger exercises and thanking God that my arm didn’t’ fall off I nodded back to sleep. While sleeping I also dreamt for some reason that I was getting my hair cut and when there was a mistake made I just shaved my whole head and liked it despite wanting to wear a hat. Well, that’s all of me now, my poem, my philosophy and my every day literature and thoughts, well, gotta go now, sleepy time…

Friday 5:51 p.m.

A Medieval Drama Takes Shape

Here early I am to write of poetry I have just composed. More I know I have brought forth but this is an important piece to my story line that I wish to write for in a couple of years. Let me first introduce the characters, introduce the story, where the poetry fits in and then I shall recite the poetry.

Kings Princes and Poison

Characters on the English side (For names sake, not history’s sake) are King Henry. His two heirs to the throne being Prince Faulcner and the younger Prince Harrington. There are also earls, uncles and the rest of it on their side but they are the important characters in this next dialogue. Characters on the French side are King Philip and the only heir to his throne Prince Philip. Then there are the Scottish Castles where war is prominent. Also Lady Cathaway of England who is in love with Prince Philip and her son Bradwell who was secretly born to Prince Philip.

The setting is inside the English castle in the King’s Quarters. King Henry lays in bed poisoned and Prince Harrington who has also been poisoned stands by his side. They have learnt that Lady Cathaway had poisoned the King’s feast and all who were there suffered the debilitating poison. Only high officials were at the feast celebrating a battle won with one of their flanks in Scotland.

Lady Cathaway’s son Bradwell was sent without her consent to another war in Scotland against another Castle where Prince Faulcner led the party. Prince Philip took advantage of Lady Cathaway’s anger and provoked her to poison the feast since she was highly thought of and none would suspect her. Therefor she poisoned the drinks of the feast with a slow killing poison that weakens your muscles.

The Bird at the Window

As the King and his younger son Prince Harrington talk with each other a bird flies onto the window sill and that is where the poem begins. Basically he talks of how the bird has stealth and attacks it’s prey with zeal being his poison. Seeing that the bird was swift and eager to pluck it’s prey Prince Harrington said it was much more noble to die on the battlefield than to die a poisoning death so he sought to assassinate who they had found out was the problem, Prince Philip.

Prince Harrington was the second heir to the throne and knowing he would die soon he considered it courageous to die fighting. Prince Faulcner was sent to war and a messenger was quickly sent to get him back so he would not risk his life at war. Before Prince Harrington could leave the room King Henry dies and a huge burial is made for him.

Killing Prince Philip would inevitably kill over the power in France and weaken it. Killing King Philip was seen as useless as once he was assassinated Prince Philip would take his place. Prince Harrington sets of on his journey to France to assassinate Prince Philip and infiltrating the enemy Castle he finds his way onto a castle wall where he is confronted by two guards.

Assassin in the French Castle

After speaking to them words of hate he kills them both throwing them off the wall. Making his way to the innards of the castle he comes to another guard and as he sounds the alarm that an intruder has infiltrated the castle guards start to flurry about. Prince Philip is found in his quarters and as he bombards the door shut Prince Harrington of England and Prince Philip of France prepare for battle with long bouts of words.

Finally they battle and Prince Harrington severely wounds Prince Philip but weakened himself by the poison he buckles and the next blow is by Prince Philip to kill him. Lady Cathaway who had run from the Castle of England made her way into Prince Philip’s quarters after the door was broken down and the two of them speak parting words before Prince Philip passes away. She too kills herself by jumping off the Castle walls.

War Over the Crown

The King of France in revolt stages an enormous battle with the army he still holds in his Garrison. Trekking to England to fight his battle with an enormous amount of men he sieges the castle camping out the front of it and trying to break in. The army inside the castle of England have no order as there is no one to give order but they hold off the attack very well. As the French tear down the walls of England’s Castle and prepare once again to attack Prince Faulcner arrives with an unknown future French Prince called Bradwell in his ranks.

By surprise the King is caught and as his army are bombarded in two directions they quickly diminish. In this fray the King is killed by Bradwell who doesn’t know his true descent. The French army flee as they are overpowered and without a King, the war is won. Lady Cathaway never revealed to Bradwell the real father stating he died when the child was young. The Dramatic Poetry ends with Prince Faulcner getting crowned as King of England.

Yon bird, perched upon thy window sill,

How pertinent thou standeth watching thy prey,

Upon yonder ground doth thy pray wriggle and writhe,

Sheltered within soil if aught but defenseless when’st exposed,

So content thou planeth to swoop upon thy prey,

So distant yon victim an distance ‘twould assist,

So long appears now of yon bird’s grim smile,

That spreadeth prothane far beyond thine avid beak,

Feathered beauty, thou taketh to flight,

Com’st thou with stealth soaring thy sky,

If thou was’t wooden, arrow ‘twould be thy name,

To pluck thy game and yet glide so with grace,

Learn now his mastery as to thy window he glide,

Watch now as he commandeth his landing with pride,

Yon fowl is poisoned an it be of zeal,

An with yon poison Philip’s life I steal,

Poisoned Prince Philip mine humble body,

Enfeebles slow my sinew so livid,

Yet unhindered art mine mind and courage,

To think of thy battlefield so vivid,

‘Tis best to perish infallible death,

Than let thy foe be death itself, henceforth,

Yon Prince is mine prey and I shall take flight,

As assassin shalt stealth bring Philip’s death,

Shrouded com’st I under darkness of night,

To plucketh away Prince Philips sinned life,

An procured shall be his sovereign ways,

Shall bravely I march upon his fresh grave,

Closing the Play

Lady Cathaway was the only one who knew the secret of Bradwell and for him to kill the King is a fitting image for the end of the play. Bradwell becomes an Earl for England but learns of his mother’s plight to poison the King and wonders for the rest of his life why she had done that but knows that it was for sending him to the wars. Well, I hope you liked it because I certainly had fun writing it and using my mind. Who knows how long I’m going to keep up with this incessant literature but if my Biorhythm Cycles have anything to do with it I’ll probably lose my motivation around Tuesday some time.

Sleepy Calls From Lyssa

To explain today so far I received a call by Lyssa around 1:00 p.m. where we conversed once again with me half asleep. Actually, I was more awake this time around as Lyssa we talked of what she was doing for her weekend which is no plans at the moment. We only talked for a couple of minutes because Lyssa seemed to understand that she keeps calling me when I’m sleeping.

Actually, the time is now 6:45 p.m. so Lyssa’s going to be home now, maybe I’ll give her a call. The rest of my day after waking up at 2:30 p.m. was having a sun-bake out the backyard, a shower, something to eat and then my poetry. Once again, the poetry came to my mind when I was in the shower, fancy that…