Liberty without security

 Bellavis, Renowned Opera Diva, Passes Away at 67

In the realm of opera, few names resonate as profoundly as Bellavis. Her voice, a haunting melody akin to a lark's mating call, captivated audiences throughout the land. Bellavis, born Isabella Avila, passed away yesterday at the age of 67, leaving behind a legacy of both triumph and tragedy.

The beginning of Bellavis's journey to stardom was not paved with gold but with the grit and determination of a young woman from a small, impoverished town. Her early years were marked by struggle and hardship, performing in local venues where she enjoyed the liberty to sing whatever her heart desired. It was in these humble beginnings that Bellavis found true freedom, a time when her voice was her own, unbound by the expectations of others.

Her big break came when a renowned music producer, Maximilian "Max" Silversmith, discovered her at a local performance. The contract he offered promised fame and fortune, but it came with strings attached. Bellavis's rise to fame was meteoric. She became known for her unique voice, which resembled an enchanting bird song. Her signature performance, "The Bird's Lament," brought her widespread acclaim, but it also became her gilded cage.

As her fame grew, the diva's freedom diminished. She was forced to perform "The Bird's Lament" in every performance, wearing an elaborate, peacock-like costume that became her chante emblématique. Bellavis's life became a series of rehearsals, performances, and public appearances, leaving little room for personal expression. During this period, Bellavis sought solace in gluttony and drink, habits that slowly took their toll on her figure and her once-pristine voice. The golden bars of her success confined her, and she longed for the liberty she once had.

In her final years, Bellavis's lust for freedom became more pronounced. She did not expect it to become her final stadium performance when she decided to break free from her gilded cage. In what has been described by some critics as her swan song, she belted out a guttural version of "La Campanara di Libertas." The audience, however, was not moved. Widely panned, her rendition crumbled her reputation. Bellavis was reviled by critics and erstwhile fans alike for deviating from her signature performance, and her career in the spotlight came to an abrupt end.

As the gigs dried up, Bellavis seemed to have found a kind of liberation in returning to her roots. Although few records exist, it seems she often sang for free in small venues and karaoke bars. Some claim she finally found joy in the freedom to express herself without constraints. She died a pauper.

Bellavis is survived by her sister, Maria Avila, and her few devoted fans who will forever cherish the memory of her enchanting rendition of lament. A private funeral service will be held, with a public memorial to be announced at a later date.

Man's expenses are the species profits

 The bottom line shows what you achieve,
The top line shows what we all believe.

The bottom line tells of your deeds,
The top line tells of our shared needs.

The bottom line marks your own way,
The top line marks how we all sway.

The bottom line shows your own might,
The top line shows our collective light.

The bottom line is your own quest, 

The top line is how we all do our best.

Death memory

 

Pro Forma Drama Dilemma

 Pro Forma Drama Dilemma

In a land where llamas wear pajamas, 

And commas dance with charisma, 

A gamma burst of plasma, 

Ignites a drama-filled schema.

The aroma of a prima donna, 

Fills the air with a sweet enigma, 

While magma flows in a pro forma, 

Creating a scene of trauma and stigma.

In Panama, a pharma diploma, 

Hangs beside a firmament's maxima, 

Solving life's dilemmas, 

With a touch of cosmic firma.

From coma to enema, 

The universe's grand schema, 

Unfolds with a rhythmic drama, 

In a land where llamas wear pajamas.

Reaching and settling

 "Thank you for settling for me as I reached for you," he said.

"What? No! I reached for you, and you settled for me!" she replied.

"I beg to differ, my dear. I'm so lucky to have even the shadow of your love," he insisted.

"Oh, you silly man, I'm still reaching out to hold on as you fly," she smiled.

Scarce Truth

When truth is scarce, those who possess it hold significant power. 

By concealing enough truths, the value of the truths they retain increases. 

In environments where dishonesty prevails, truth becomes even more valuable. 

Holding a monopoly on truth allows for control over all.

Shadows of Gothomgrad

 

In the bustling city of Gothomgrad, there lived two sisters as different as night and day. Catheryne, the elder, was a sharp-witted gal with a nose for opportunity and a heart set on triumph, no matter the price. Her motto, you see, was "Success at any cost." Emmelyne, the younger, was a dreamer through and through. She believed in following her passions and living life true to her spirit. Her motto was "Follow your heart."

Catheryne, with her keen eye for finance, climbed the corporate ladder faster than a squirrel up a tree. She amassed wealth and power, becoming a prominent figure among Gothomgrad's elite. Emmelyne, on the other hand, dedicated herself to her art. She painted, wrote poetry, and taught at the local community center. Her life was rich in creativity and fulfillment, but not in material wealth.

As the years rolled by, Catheryne's wealth and influence grew like a well-watered weed. Greed for gold and a lust for power drove Catheryne's every choice. Slowly, step by step, she amassed wealth and influence, tightening her grip over the struggling masses of Gothomgrad. Her empire grew like a shadow, casting a pall over the city. The more she gained, the more she craved, and the divide between the wealthy elite and the destitute widened into a chasm. The streets buzzed with whispers of discontent, and the air grew thick with the tension of a city on the brink. Emmelyne and her friends, once beacons of hope and creativity, found themselves at the heart of the growing unrest, their dreams suffocated by Catheryne's relentless ambition.

The tipping point came when Catheryne's company announced plans to demolish the community center to build luxury apartments. Emmelyne, devastated and desperate, became a leader in the burgeoning resistance movement. The protests grew larger and more intense, fueled by the anger and frustration of those who had been marginalized.

One fateful night, the protests turned violent. Emmelyne, driven by a mix of righteous fury and personal betrayal, led the charge against her sister's empire. The revolutionaries stormed Catheryne's mansion, and in the chaos, Catheryne was brutally murdered.

The aftermath was nothing short of tragic. Gothomgrad lay in ruins, a city once vibrant now scarred by the fires of revolution. Emmelyne, who had once been a beacon of hope and creativity, found herself consumed by guilt and sorrow. She had achieved her goal, but at a terrible cost. The revolution had brought change, but it had also left deep wounds on the city and on Emmelyne's soul.

In the end, Emmelyne lived in a shadow of shame and misery, haunted by the memory of her sister and the violence she had unleashed.  Catheryne, however, was but dust.