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 ^{(it's beta!)}

This Gift is a collection of has-beens, maybes and could-bes.

Possible glimpses of the future for me.

They belong to you now.

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“I’d like to dedicate my performance here tonight, to You”

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There is an assumption, that this should be something unusual and neat.

Different and fun. Special and somehow relative to the giftee.

This is assumed.

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I stare down on Earth from the gift of space.

I place the gift of Food upon my plate.

I hold the gift of Love tight in my arms.

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One way to begin.

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Slow iron-grey trains criss-cross the lands, belching darkness into the pale blue sky.

Heavy rusted tracks constrict our world. The perfect pastel picture is fading. Dirty and stained, our planet lies broken before the feet of God, and yet we still pray forgiveness.

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Another.

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I think this is the way most things begin.

With a sentence.

With a word.

One word could be a gift,

could give rise to a thousand ideas,

could lead a thousand numbers to become a thousand names

and a thousand names to storm the gates

and tear down the walls

Remember; ‘Ignorance is not Bliss’

We know its all about the words here.

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I give you this.

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Under our feet a rainbow cascades endlessly through space, setting the stars alight in a riot of joyful colour.

Beneath the rainbow lies a world.

It is mostly crystalline in structure, composed of little more than glitter and dust.

Gentle motes of light sparkle around our ankles, stardust gathering and swirling in this airless space.

Great shapeless forms cascade around the sphere below, forming and reforming in great drifts and spirals of light.

One day this will be a living world, the gift of life gracing its glimmering surface.

New gods will arise, new concepts be contemplated, great characters and lives formed and played out in the beautiful cascading gift of life.

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“I’d like this to be over the top, I’d like this to be absurd and dramatic.”

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This is not about you, however much you may wish it to be.

A gift to you is a gift to the world, and it shall be seen to be shared.

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Life is about giving. Giving and life go hand in hand. Without giving there could be no life. Without no life there could be not giving.

“Are you alive?”

I have to ask me that from time to time. Then I go and give my money to someone who wants it.

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Each part of this here discourse, is like a snapshot taken from the window of a moving train.

The train is yours, but I hold the camera.

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We and I and Me and You.

Its all surreal fun and games round here.

If I make a sound in this room, it bursts from my lips in a wash of colour, engulfing your ears like the tentacles of the Kraken.

If You decide to move in this room, seraphim will carry you on a palanquin of gold, their brazen wings beating down the blasphemous air.

Some would have us play god.

Some would see the end of our times.

Some would see but for a lack of eyes or a fog upon their minds.

In many ways, we transcend this place.

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I lean back now, comfortable in my large blue swivel chair, and take a deep draught from the mug on the side.

I’m quite enjoying myself right about now.

Still got an hour and ONE half left mind, lets see what other things could be written?

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“My lords, my ladies and you few other privileged folk!” The voice rings out across the auditorium, full of enthusiasm this one is...

“I am honoured tonight to present to you, a most fantastic and unusual entertainment!

From far across the sea, from in fact the distant and mysterious land of Albion! I give you the Arch Conjurour himself! The Caileach!”

As the applause fades and the scarlet curtain is lifted a lanky figure steps forth from the shadows at the rear of the stage. Tall though he is, he seems hunched oddly, as if his knees are not facing the correct way. He is almost entirely concealed by a large crimson cloak, which is swept around him in such a way as only the glimmer of slanted, emerald eyes are visible to the audience.

Trembling slightly, the figure slowly extends one arm, the hand hidden in a black glove. As the audiences entire attention becomes focused upon it he suddenly snaps it into a fist, the shadows and darkness around the hall flooding into the stage, swamping the solitary figure.

Through the darkness, the few watchers who have not fled realize they can still see the light of the various gas lamps around the room, though the light extends nomore than a few feet from the misted panes. The general effect akin to being in a swamp, with marsh lights playing over the corners of vision.

A thin, cackling voice comes, dancing trough the shadows around the watchers still seated...

“I come to give you a Gift my children, oh yes, such a fine Gift it is. Even your twice blessed monarchy would approve I am sure...”

The figure- still dimly visible- begins to descend from the stage. Slowly, and with great ceremony, it pulls back the hood from its face...

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This gift is right out of mind. ************************************************************* Wires; Life This high city, is a city of wires. People here live lives balanced precariously, wrapping the cords round themselves, nesting. Death Eventually people die, dropping from their perches like leaves from a tree fluttering, falling down miles to the Boneyard. Life These people here, they eat information. Light passes along the wire innards with the light, information flows. Ask any scholar, they will tell you; "Knowledge equals Power" information equals knowledge equals power equals Life It's dog eat dog in this wire world. Everyday a deadly dance on the trapeze tripping the tightrope two-step over insanity a million miles below. Snare Yet this trapeze is a blessing A wonderful gift The view from up here is amazing And no one can see it but you.