Monthly Archives: October 2006

For the public good.

In world history, there have been tragedies on such a grand scale, such nightmarish things, as to make even the most hardy of men shudder in fear and revulsion and terror.

The black plague,  The holocaust, the genocide in darfur.  All of these things, have impacted our society, and left a terrible, and indelible impression on the history of humanity.  But, there is one more, a quiet atrocity being commited before our very eyes, and I have yet to see one person cry out at the inhumanity of this disgusting, and revolting behavior.

Chicken Noodle Soup, and, a soda on the side.

It was not enough to hear this eardrum searing monstrosity over the airwaves, I had the extreme misfortune of happening by a television while the “video”, to this affront to humanity was being displayed.

From the looks of things, a massive wave of epilepsy has swept across the nation, primarily affecting young african- american females, gods, is there no one who can help?  These poor unfortunates are afflicted by conditions reminiscent of the St. Vitus dance, which was caused by the bite of a highly poisonous spider.  I had to turn my face from the screen, as my heart bled from watching these poor sick children jerk about in bouts of uncontrollable muscle spasms, cruelly intercut with slides of pepsi cans, and bowls of hearty soup, as if these poor children could consume either of these food items without making a terrible mess.

Something has to be done, call Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, anyone, I have a dream… I have a dream that music will cease to made about increasingly ridiculous food items, and that our nation, and major media outlets will recognize that poking fun at poor seizure ridden folks is inexcusable, and unacceptable.

Please, help us put an end to this tragedy. 

Thank you.

Shawshank.

The anger bubbled over,
From being tossed aside,
My resentment built and boiled over,
Leaving inside with nowhere to hide,

Turns out you were right, after all,
Deciding to leave the past in place,
Not to catch me when I fall,
Leave me to fall right on my face,

Oh, that hatred, rose in me,
Dis-belief, and horror-struck,
Left me crawling on my knees,
Feeling empty, sad and stuck,

A death sentence for a caring heart,
You knew this, yet you carried on,
Ripped not one, but two hearts apart,
Ignorance and bliss are feelings gone,

But it’s gone, what I resent,
And I want to thank you instead,
I doubt that boy will feel it so,
I’ll try to fix that messed up head,

So thank you dear for killing me,
I was tired, of myself,
Goodbye love I could not see,
Hello life, and emotional health,

Some remember me still,
The boy I was, or used to be,
He is here and feeling fine,
Dead is the old, and crazy me,

Solid now, and wiser since,
Control’s a gift appreciated,
Better now from now on hence,
Thank you again for the dismiss.

Mistake.

Here he comes, free at last,
This little boy, with no past,
Let him go and give him life,
Remind him who he is, tonight,

No wish to be here,
Neither side will agree to me,
Pushed and pulled against my will,
Bright lights blinding, nothing to see,

Leave me alone please,
Let me go, get your mouth away,
I was fine before you came,
A rubber doll that soon decays,

Give her blood, before she dies,
I hope I had my mommys eyes,
I hope they let me stay asleep,
Daddy don’t weep,

You should have been more careful,
Who do you think you are?
You should have known before you blew,
Forget the sky, leave that star,

I should have stayed a little twinkle,
Re-absorbed and part of you,
You should have had a little tinkle,
Burning acid passed me through.

Commercial Break…

 And we now pause a moment for a word from our sponsor, my brain.

 

The future is always scary to the present.  I realized after a series of nightmares last night, that the only reason it was so frightening, was simply because of the massive amount of change involved.

I have never been good at adjusting to change, although, I think I am starting to get better at it.  It is as if the circumstances of my present relationship have forced me to open my eyes, and see things in a different light.  I had to change for this to work, there was no choice, none. 

Now, I only need to stop feeling sorry for people who clearly do not deserve my pity.  I mean, I felt bad for the croc hunter, but only because he was killed by a pussy ass stingray.  If a croc had dragged him under and ripped him to pieces, I wouldn’t have felt bad at all.  Simple, you play with crocs long enough, and sooner or later one is going to catch you.  I don’t think anyone would have been too surprised at those circumstances.

People are no different than crocs in many aspects.  If you date, or befriend crocs, sooner or later they will drag you under too.  So, if someone I care about chooses to do something like that knowingly, well, I need to let them do what they have to do.  I will feel bad if they get torn up, but, sigh, at this point, I don’t know.

I will feel bad, I already do.  God, it has turned so fucking dangerous.  Am I supposed to just sit back and watch the carnage?

The awesome-ness.

 

Pointing fingers come with accusing stares,
Why, do you bother, this is going nowhere,
Drove your car down a dead end street,
Don’t even bother to keep this discrete,

Everybody run, everybody run!
Here comes the scary man,
Everyone run, everybody hide,
Leave what he feels hidden inside,

I don’t care if anybody likes me,

Doesn’t matter, what you people think,

Circumstances make me happy,

The awesome-ness, of inappropriate!

It’s ok, if you think it’s pointless,
It’s ok, if you don’t approve,
Time will tell you just what to think,
Prejudice it will remove,

La, la, tra, la, la, la…la,

La, la, ba, la la la la la la,

I can’t wait til I see forty,
Fifty, seems like so much fun,
Linger long, you won’t ignore me,
One day you will call me son,

I don’t care, if anybody likes me,

Doesn’t matter, what you people think,

Circumstances make me happy,

The awesome-ness, of inappropriate!

The awesome-ness,

The awesome-ness,

The awesome-ness,

Of,

In-ap-pro-pri-ate.

(I’m not sure if I like that one too much, perhaps it will grow on me)

Grasshopper must learn.

Oh little locust!
How sweet you once looked,
Antennae swaying in the breeze,
Sharp legs coiled on the sheaf,

How tasty the wheat must seem,
Delicious are the crops of today,
Had your fill of just appearance,
Underneath the food decays,

You should have tended the fields that mattered,
Instead it looked a fuller crop,
You should not eat a dream to shatter,
Of the man who will never stop,

Never ate from fresher fields,
Gave them up, too much work,
Years ahead show bigger yields,
You will never know just what it’s worth,

It will hit you,
Stunning blows,
Leave you again in disbelief,
With just regret for what you chose.
 

¼br /> ¼br />  

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Reader opinion.

Tonight is about answers.  Mainly, needing some.  So, most of my readers know what my current situation is, and why it is so.  Obviously, I have shown displeasure at this in a variety of ways, but there does not seem to be much I can do, A cruel and spiteful person has control over what I can, and cannot do, well, not completely, but when you cripple a persons finances that badly, you may as well be doing that.

So, here is the question, and all opinions are welcome of course,

What do you do in this situation?

Again, bear in mind that you are in a legal bind, and you are dealing with a person who cares nothing for your success or happiness.

Okay, so now that the situation is clearly defined, I would like to hear others give their takes on this.  I am still young, but long years of owing seem to be ahead of me, I plan on working more, but I am finding few enough hours in the day as it is, and I desperately want to try and enjoy life somehow too.

Alright then, fire away people.

The vengeful oliphaunt.

Grasping hands holding tight,

Take flight,

Animosity that is endless,

My ire, relentless,

 

Quest for parity that never ends,

Take from me, and make pretend,

That everything is still ok,

In your typical way,

 

Speaking words that are sickly sweet,

A life thats left that hardly meets,

Any expectation,

Of building nations,

 

I wish you well,

I wish you hell,

Both at once, for extra fun,

To pay for all that you have done,

 

Keep smelling the piled dung,

Growing odor from the burning sun,

There will come a time, for you to burn,

A time for you to take your turn,

 

Idle chatter to pass the time,

Gladly take what is mine,

Look down on me, take what you can get,

Just don’t think,

Not for a moment,

That I will forget.

Soul Eater pt. 4

Mis watched the dead tear open the young girls abdomen indifferently.  It was a funny thing, to watch the television, and see the portrayals of these creatures, as if it had never happened.  He noticed that the newer versions of this film genre showed the dead moving faster, almost as fast as the live humans they went after.  He thought back to the shambling horrors he destroyed so many years ago.  No, they were nothing like that, they moved slowly, and unlike what he saw in the movies, some of them were clever.  The elders discovered through much experimentation that they retained much more brain function than they had initially thought.  They had even developed a method of communicating amongst themselves, a sign language of sorts.  After the initial wave of soul eaters swept through their ranks, they learned how to signal a retreat, they learned they could not harm the eaters, but they did learn that they could protect themselves.

He still remembered the shock when he and four other eaters were doing a sweep of the countryside and came upon a band of dead fighters trapped and surrounded by a dead ambush.  Mis let fly with a volley of bolts, and some of the dead fell, but many continued to fight on, despite direct hits.  The eaters looked at each other, puzzled, and walked into the heart of the melee.  They were wearing armor, and not only that, they moved away as a group when the eaters approached, and retreated with the armored ones covering the rear, absorbing most of the bolts the eaters threw at them. 

It took much longer to find and destroy the rest after the initial wave of destruction.  The dead leaders became more cautious, and dead raids became harder to predict.  The ranks of the dead fighters swelled during this time, and soon each new town and outpost was bristling with fighters, and glowing with the infused weapons provided by the eaters.  Mis remembered the long journeys they undertook to hunt down and destroy the leaders.  It seemed preposterous to the elders, and to the dead fighters that such seemingly brainless and random monsters could possibly be capable of coordination, and subterfuge.  The eaters knew better, they discovered that they could sense what the dead had seen after they took their souls.  None of it was random, only at first, when it all began, but the dead had won their victories through careful planning, and the arrogance of the living humans who assumed they were direction-less creatures.  The eaters knew they had to find these “necrolords” or this plague would never end.  For despite their best efforts, the dead had been growing more successful, which swelled their ranks, and made them tougher to contain.

It took years, and many lives to finally snuff out the last of them.  Mis had seen that many times before, the humans getting torn open, fed upon like slaughtered cattle.  These films, they never quite got the scream right.  That shrill shriek of terror that bursts forth when the flesh is ripped by those hands.  It would always rise a few octaves right as the intestines were being uncoiled, the lucky ones fainted at that point.  At times, it was unavoidable, there were not always enough eaters around, and they did tire, which would render them ineffective.  It sickened him, but like anything, he became accustomed to it after a while.

He remembered poor Sir Jeffrey of Ironmoor, who had both limbs torn off and consumed while he watched in horror.  The dead could be cruel at times, that is how they learned to tell the clever ones from the chattel.  Sir Jeffrey lived and breathed up until the very moment his throat was torn out, he was able to see everything they did, which was unusual, considering that the dead savored human eyeballs, and normally ate them first.

Mis smiled, he could have done something, he was tired, but he could have done something.  But Mis never did like Sir Jeffrey all that much.

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