In Remembrance - Vive la France

Sometimes music can replace the words that are so hard to find at times. The tragic events at the Bataclan Concert Hall in Paris this past week will never be forgotten, but there were also beautiful moments that have occurred there as well. I pray that we can find a peaceful future for all, and a small tribute to the victims who lost their lives so tragically and needlessly. 

- Robby Silk

Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah (Live From The Bataclan, Paris, 11 February, 1995

Love's Journey

I wrote this poem for close friend and his wife for their wedding day. I hope that you enjoy it as much as they did.

- Robby Silk

Love’s Journey

Two travelers met on a fateful day,
And I, living an adventurous life;
Reflected long on the way
My travels would be forever changed this day,
By joining hands to start a new life.

Knowing that love works in mysterious ways,
And I, suddenly weary from my solitude
Let fate show me the way.
Oh, I asked a question that fateful day,
When our worlds combined, just us two!

Reflecting long on this anxious calm
I wonder where our future will lead;
Perhaps faraway places with coconut palms?
Yet knowing how life carries on,
Only our future has the wisdom to see.

A story only our love can tell;
We lived an adventurous life
Picking each other up when we fell.
When words run dry and love swells,
I’ll never forget when I first met my wife!
— Robby Silk

The Reznick Diaries - Part 1

This is the first part of a continuing short story series that I will be writing. Please be sure to check back regularly, and let me know what you think. 

The Reznick Diaries - Part 1

When will this madness end? I have never asked myself this question before until I found these old tattered journals. It was just the other day my every waking thought was on survival, but things have changed now. I've never known a different life, but I have heard stories of the Original Peace before The Event. There are whispers that some people from this time are still alive. I wrote those people off as being crazy too weak to go on living in the reality of today. I know the type, and how they always try and kept the embers of a forgotten time alive. I've spat at them and called them names...even killed one or two before. I believed that the era of peace had passed, and the era of simply surviving was now. That was before the journals though...

                Sometimes they feel like the heaviest burden to continue carrying them, but I can't leave them now. How can a stranger from the past feel so alive today? I have been alone now for so long I don't recall the last time I haven't heard a hostile voice? Reznick Fimmel's are the first in a long time, but his words are nearly fifty years old now. According to the dated entries we are probably about the same age now, or close enough when he started writing them. Has fate brought us together in a sort of ways? I am learning so much from his journals it is overwhelming at times. His words have seeped into my soul and live with me every day. On some days I feel like I can hear his voice come through the pages. They haunt me, inspire me, and frighten me; yet I cannot put his journals down. Reading instead of surviving could be a death sentence, but it is a risk that I am willing to accept.

It is quite now...I must read some more. Perhaps Reznick is still alive?

Alone - April 16, 2015

I will take the opportunity of writing a few lines, but only for a few moments. At what point can we consider ourselves no longer human? What does it even mean anymore to say that I am a human? A year ago we said hi to our neighbors, and drove cars to work. Then it all changed in an instant, and now I watch people get torn apart by what I want to believe are packs of wild dogs. That would make sense to me at least, and strangely I could live with it. However these are not wild dogs I am watching, but people or humans like I used to call them. They rip each other up like they are nothing more than a piece of raw meat. I have accepted that I will meet a violent end, but when will I fight back? Can I make a difference? As I sit here less than fifty yards away from the most recent pack I can still smell the burning flesh. I have to admit that I am ashamed of myself more than ever this time. I promised myself that I would fight back the next time they struck. I was ready to die...or so I thought.

                I watched the pack of men chase her down like wolves descending on a weak fawn. There was no hope for her, and from the small window I saw more then I wanted too. She screamed for help, but no one came to her rescue. I was ready and I could have at least died with her, but I either could not or would not will myself forward. Cowering and hiding is not what I was trained to do, but since the beginning I have always watched out for my best interests. Now I ask myself this simple question. Why? So I can live another day alone, and watch another innocent person get murdered until there is no one left but myself? If it ever comes to that then I will kill myself voluntarily. They don't even kill cleanly now before hacking people apart and cooking their flesh while they are still alive.

                I looked over my tattered American flag while they were killing her. She is still beautiful despite being old and worn; her red, white, and blue colors are still vibrant in the faint moonlight. I know what that flag once stood for, and I owe it to myself and those that can't protect themselves to try and restore order. I can't believe I am even taking the time to write all of this. I doubt anyone will ever read these journals, but at the very least I pray that my words may echo on forever. Vain thoughts in a selfish time may kill the last bits of the humanity that I have left. I must tread carefully into this abyss alone. I am already haunted by the screams of those I watched die, and there is a new voice now that will be added to the morbid orchestra. As long as I live I will never forget what people are truly capable of. It scares me to think what might really be lurking inside us all. When people no longer view each other as humans it is the stuff of nightmares. Something is truly wrong when I think of killing quickly as a merciful act. I covered my face in my flag before the final blow was delivered to her head. Perhaps I couldn't bear to watch another murder, or more probably I wanted to be a coward one last time. After today I will have no more guarantees of seeing tomorrow.


Yours affectionately,

Reznick Fimmel 

Will the Buildings of Tomorrow will be Shaped by You?

I like many of you probably do not come from an architecture background. Personally when I see a truly amazing building I marvel at how it was designed and built. It is a skill and passion that I do not have, but I have always respected those who do it. If you want to see how the future of architecture will be shaped by us please enjoy the below video.

- Robby Silk 

Je Suis Charlie (I am Charlie Too...)

If freedom of speech is taken away, then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.
— George Washington
French satirical weekly Charlie Hebdo’s publisher, known only as Charb.

French satirical weekly Charlie Hebdo’s publisher, known only as Charb.

When those that wish to oppress the power of free speech act out violently, and without mercy, they solidify that the pen is indeed mightier than the sword. Fear does not silence the unalienable right and belief of free speech, it emboldens it. Too many nations have been through too many fights, bled too much blood, and loss too much life for us to lose our freedom of speech now or ever because a single group or a nation is offended. If my words have the ability to offend you, anger you, or move you then I have done my job well. If we ever live to see a world where everything we read is completely censored and politically correct, then know on this day that the right to our freedom of speech is finally dead. 

I want to send over my deepest condolences for those that lost their lives today (1/7/2015) in the terrorist attacks at the Charlie Hebdo office in Paris France.

"Today we are all Charlie too."

- Robby Silk