Dream about flying with ballons with my sister in storm, building 8x10 house at my house.

Unraveling the Raveled.

A common name on a desk. A demon's face smirking with a subtle mischievous quark. Find me. How can I know so much about people and nothing of myself? How can I care about everyone (some could call it love) but care nothing of myself? Platonic love seems so wrong, but feels so right. I am on a mission for submission. My admission starts the ignition, and I drive away. No gas. Fuck. Hide the glass because your shattered heart will cut me. I will bleed. I will die. Save me from tomorrow. I would rather be blind and know you love me, than to see you and know you don't. At the gas pump, my head lightens, and I know you exist. I know you; I love you.
Pick a time in you were happy, sad or in awe. Let it overwhelm you; let it splice the fragments of your life into one continuous strand of error. Take every moment in your life and place it behind a veil; a veil that enthralls my face to a peak point of adjunct. Adjacent to my face, and eye or leg or toe. Place me on top of the world; I am my own. I am free. I am alive. My peak is the bottom. I weep into my place. My words are young. As they age my rage feels as an old theater would; used but useless; expensive but priceless; old but ageless. Interest. Play me like a violin whose sweet notes call for me by name; a melancholy song of salvation. A savior in its own right. But it isn't right is it? We fight to fight; we fight to be right. We are wrong. But alas, we are strong in head and body, in life and death. Let's take our one final breath and sleep forever now. The end of it all, you know, the climactic bow. Walk down a million miles of untraveled road; see into the sky (envisioning the starlight's gold) and in finality cause to tread on nothingness. Believe in this epic pause; have your epic flaw; sleep with your epic wife. And at the premiere of the next big show, savor the flavor of this epic blow.

Character Sketch Two: Military Girl

This girl, the military girl, seems like she should be fearless having served in the armed forces for several years. She is an atheist. Now I used to believe that by being an atheist, you should be the most fearful person on earth seeing how there is no heaven or hell or, for that matter, purgatory, but have since realized that without religion or god, I have absolutely nothing to fear in this demented world on which we pass our days on. In the instant after my revelation, I felt the behemoth of all monkeys jump off my back to find another host. I found it slightly amusing that this particular military girl appears to be “the most fearful person on earth”. She is afraid to walk outside alone. She is afraid to light her cigarette near a window; she is, simply put, afraid. If you ever see her, you will know. She carries herself in such a way that the world might just explode and kill her (perhaps she believes it will ONLY be her). It is possible she has other issues beyond my realm of observation; I do not claim to know her whole story, but I would imagine she was one of those female warriors who did time in Iraq or Afghanistan. In a sense, doing time in a warzone is probably like doing time in prison; it is meant to be feared.

Character Sketch One: Boring Fucking Teacher Man

I met him at school, that boring fucking teacher man. He wore an old tweed jacket and wore his beard like a lumberjack might, scattered and with hairs looking like daddy longlegs’ legs. A mullet, why the hell would he keep his hair in that kind of discord? He bared a hairline that could consciously be called a receding hairline, but he was not bald. It long since quit growing to where it was now just perpetually there, as if to pronounce to the world, “my fucking genes fought a war with baldness, and won”. He was grey in every possible way; even his skin resembled that of an elephant. He wasn’t a fat man but wore the guy of a man of many years, perhaps in his late sixties or early seventies. He sported a pair of spectacles that seemed to say, “I know a lot, don’t fuck with me”. He seemed to always carry a coffee mug with him, whether or not it was actually coffee, I could not tell you for certain. His voice seemed frail but not devoid of life. He always lugged his satchel around with him, no doubt carrying his papers which he would consider his life, like my own father.

Ramblings: Part Seven

Fear, we all sense it; we all feel it; we all know and hate it. But who can tell me they fear nothing? It is so cliché these days to say we fear the unknown; perhaps we should fear what we actually know because it is so close to us. Fear is what we live with everyday; we can attribute everything to fear (maybe you can’t, but I sure as hell can). I live in fear everyday; fear of the day to come; fear of the days that passed me not knowing who I was or what I would become. I am more afraid of what I can do to myself than what other people can do to me. I have always been curious about the reason that religious persons fear death as much as an agnostic or atheist (actually, maybe they care less about death than a religious person). It seems like the ultimate faith in your god would be to not fear death because you “know” you are going somewhere “better”. What is the nature of death and dying? When is it acceptable to die or let go of someone who seems as if they could drift away at any moment into the never-ending abyss we call death. But why do we fear death? What if perhaps we never knew what death was; how can you fear something that you never knew existed or for that matter what if fear didn’t exist? It must be an instinctual aspect on human life, the same way rabbits “fear” predators. The knowledge of fear and death scare people into irrational thinking and bold takes on life.

At the same time, I often wonder whether it is possible to be truly happy if you don’t know what it feels like to be truly unhappy; I mean to say that people often times believe they are unhappy but in retrospect they just give the appearance of being unhappy (or maybe just want to believe they are unhappy). It is like the placebo effect really, you take a pill to make you feel better about yourself, but it is entirely possible for that pill to have no effect on anything or for that matter to contain any chemical that will “make you happy”. I often look back on my life and try to pinpoint positions in my life where I thought myself to be unhappy or happy; the points where I was at my lowest low or the points where I was at my highest peak. I try to recognize the feelings and intentions that should be associated with happiness and unhappiness, but I can never put my finger on that place in time where I was happy or where I was sad. It seems to me that all the times I felt I was depressed or just all around down about myself, I had no reason to be. When I perceive myself to be happy I question the integrity of that ideal. True happiness must come from things that aren’t intended to make you happy; I mean sure everyone would like to believe that money, love, sex, drugs, etcetera make them happy, but do all those things not just give the illusion of happiness? In the same sense, doesn’t melancholy seemingly come from death, repression, intolerance, and alienation (correct me if I am wrong, but I don’t believe there is a real word for “lack-of-love”).

I wondered many times if these were simple fantasies that we put there by our subconscious; sure we can’t know what our subconscious puts there or doesn’t put there or what the collective unconscious steeps into our simple mindsets, but we can assume the role of “keeper of ideals”. Why be happy when you could be sad? Why be sad when you could be happy? Why be afraid when you could be bold? Why be bold when you could be afraid? Why be alive when you could be dead? Why be dead when you could be alive? These questions will perplex the community for all eternity, but isn’t nice to think about every once in a while? I guess what they say is true, ignorance really is bliss.

Ramblings: Part Six

I want to know what it is like to be in other people’s shoes, if even for only a day. I want to be blind; I want to be amoral (like when I was a child and knew not right from wrong); I want to be schizophrenic. I want to see from the other point of view. It is impossible to correct problems if you cannot visualize the problems. We always just “think” we know what the problems are. There is no way of knowing unless we actually get in our cars and drive to the scene of the crime. In my experience, the closest way to get into the position of someone else is to be a constant observer. I like to people watch, I find out more about myself when I know about everyone else around me, but I digress, watching people only makes me want to crawl out of society and onto a platform in the middle of the ocean and live out the rest of my years. Observe the patterns of society and observe the processes of which people live their lives, but do not ever become one of those “people”. I am not telling you to become a stalker and watch people from outside their houses, following them around like you want to live vicariously through them. Trust me; you will get arrested. Watch people like you would watch a television and once the show is over move on to the next program (I suppose people are kind of like television shows; they come and they go and some stay on the air for longer than others). Patterns, Patterns, Patterns; it is like math. Every single thing on the face of this earth can be explained by math (or so I have been told on countless occasions). In the same way, like math, everything can be grouped into patterns. Nothing is random. Even the random integers that are created through computer programs are not random, they all exhibit some sort of pattern. Like the computer program’s “randomness”, people display the exact same patterns. (Be reasonable; of course there are exceptions. But those exceptions all fall in the pattern). Is it so farfetched that our mere existence changes these patterns, can hinder our own persistent failures in life? I want to walk on the moon, but I don’t want to go to the moon; is that not the typical human’s thinking? I want to live alone in the woods by myself so that no one will ever bother me, but I don’t want to have to get there. Why is it so hard not to conform to the patterns which were placed there in the past (the same ones that will stand in your place when you are dead)? Freedom, its like an animal in a cage; it wants to be free but at the same time after you let it go, it doesn’t know what to do with itself.

Ramblings: Part Five

Dating is a game to many and a very serious affair to the others. The steps to having a great date, from first impressions to finding the perfect soul mate, can probably be found elsewhere, but is it actually easy to ruin a date? Perhaps it is. Generally, dates can be classified as one of two types: the one night stand and the emotionally attached. Whereas a one night stand is generally sexually motivated, an emotionally charged date is for someone who is looking for love. Regardless, sometimes it is necessary to escape the night unscathed. The best ways to ruin a date start with first impressions but later move on to the actual date and finally to the end of the date.
Everyone always says the first impression is the most important factor in starting a relationship. One could rightly assume the easiest way to ruin a date is to make a horrible first impression. The best way to escape is to be creepy, shady, or make comments about sacrificing baby goats to Satan. It is very complicated to be thought of a good person when standing in a corner making a strange stalker-like laugh, or for that matter, not looking into the date’s eyes ever. On a separate note, many people might consider staring to be a creepy action; however, an overzealous attitude can sometimes have the same effect as a creepy or shady person. The first impression, while important, can cause the date to continue, and it is the most important transition into phase two, the actual date.
During the date there are many things which can go wrong, leading to a hate-filled relationship in further meetings. One could consider rude behaviors such as: speaking with a full mouth, spitting, farting, or belching, the best, if dealing with a typical person, way to ruin a date. Comments made about the date in impolite words can also affect the outcome of the date, for instance, being incredibly sarcastic about the way they look; it may be enough just to be sarcastic though. On the other hand, some people may find that attractive, so it is always important to have a backup plan. A quick slap to the face will often times ruin both dates’ night. Coming without money also has the same effect.
The end of the date is also very important to the outcome of the night; it could not be possible if the first two steps had not been accomplished. If one is so unlucky to get to this point, there is no turning back. The only way that this date will end is with nothing short of murder, but since murder is illegal in all fifty states and not to mention highly unethical, there must be another option. One option is to get naked and ask why there has not been any sex yet, but once again, some people may find this attractive. Another, more effective option is to play guess who with the date if he or she is driving. The latter is most successful when used in moderation, and only as a last resort because of the risk of injury to other drivers, pedestrians, and perhaps animals.
The process of ruining a date can be simple or complex depending on the user’s skill level. A date can be used as a tool for manipulation if used in the correct procedure, it is often necessary to be a jerk if it is to be a bad date. At all times in a date, it is possible to simply get up and walk out of the date. It is not recommended that anyone ever attempt to ruin a date for no other reason than to get out alive. Dating should be used only in moderation and never without safety precautions. It is dangerous.

Ramblings: Part Four

Read peoples minds, or something like that. Read people. Reading people like the books collecting dust in the library. Don’t let anyone in. Don’t let anyone out. Let yourself in. Let yourself out. Read everything. Read places. Read thoughts. Read people. Reading people like the magazines we collect. Sleep away the past. Sleep away the present. Sleep away the future. Hide inside yourself like a hermit on a golden wharf, dreaming of other’s lives. The future is in your dreams. The past is in your dreams. Only the present exists in reality. The future relays information to the present. What seeps into the realm of tomorrow can be seen in your head; your own head. Don’t fight the future. Don’t fight the past. Fight the present. Fight the world that exists in your own eyes. Your own eyes can see the death and destruction brought upon this world; the chaos envelops our every movement, our every distraction, our every pitiful breath. Bleed onto the ground while you sacrifice yourself for the well being of another. Taste the flesh of the causes to my effects. Spit on the remnants of society’s old wasted days. Today is the future. Tomorrow might never exist. Everyday is different, but tomorrow’s future can be changed. Tomorrow’s immediate future or tomorrow’s future future can be saved in a day’s time; it can be done. It can’t be done. Fight me. Fight you. Cut me. Cut you. Kill me. Kill you. All in a day’s work, I saw the past, present, and future, and I single handedly stopped it all from occurring; it was in a dream. A dream that exists in the subconscious or perhaps it really is reality. Who do you go for the answer when there isn’t one? Who do you ask for forgiveness when you don’t deserve it? Who do you go to when there isn’t enough time left to fight yourself internally? Madness, insanity, while reason comes naturally to mankind, who can stop the flaws from burgeoning into a mass exodus of emotion, greed, fatality, infertility in the nation of idiots breeding like a population of mosquitoes. A population which will cease to exist in the future; we are killing ourselves. We are dying without cause, but the effect is imminent. The effect is instable. The effect is reliant. Will the world exist in 2020? Will mankind exist in 2020? (2020 just looked like a good date to me, but it is applicable to the future past 2020 or the future before 2020) Approaching apocalypse can sense the fear of Man, who remains ignorant throughout the entire process of degeneration. Go green! Or don’t go green, but realize the destruction of every matter in earth’s possession is upon us. Realize that without the gaseous states in the sky, we will fry like those worms who try to cross the road on that exquisite searing summer day. Speaking of searing, the astral world sears emblems into your subconscious which you and only you can follow and intercept and interpret and distinguish it from everyone else’s in the substantial epic adventure into your own mind.

Ramblings: Part Three

Common names on a desk, a demon’s face smirking with a subtle mischievous quark, please find me. How can I know so much about people but know nothing about myself? How can I care so much about everyone (some could call it love) but care nothing about myself? Platonic love feels so wrong, but tastes so right. I am on a mission for submission, and my admission starts the ignition, and I drive away like a bat out of heaven. (Fuck the cliché “bat out of hell”; it would fly faster from heaven I think). No gas, fuck! Hide the glass because your shards will cut me. I will bleed. I will die. It’s only natural. Save me from tomorrow. I would rather be blind and know you love me, than see you and know you don’t. A gas station’s fuel lightens my head to where I can see you, know you, and love you. I will find someone that is less of a person, such as I am less of a person to you. I don’t eat meat; the same as you eating my meat until there is nothing left in my body to take. Be a vegetarian. We can feast on cucumbers and bamboo shoots; or don’t. I won’t judge you. Our relationship is like a cool autumn day; it shows decay and fosters death. Like a spring day, it will regenerate over time. Pick a time in your life when you were happy, sad, or in awe. Let it overwhelm you; let it take over your body until you can no longer feel the pain or happiness. Let it splice the fragments of your life into one continuous strand of unconscious reaction (a fully complex reaction). Take every moment in your life and place it behind a veil; a veil that enthralls your face to a peak point of adjunct. Adjacent to my face, an eye, leg, or toe, and place yourself on the seat of the throne at the top of the world. I am my own. I am free. I am alive (for a while at least). Die by the age of thirty. That seems ideal. The peak is the bottom, at the very crevice of the ocean that your mind splits into a million different strands of hair. I fell into my place and wept there for hours, all the while composing the music you can’t hear. I spit all over you and broke my tongue, while my words were still young. As they aged, my rage feels as on old theater would; used but useless, expensive bus priceless, old but timeless. Inert forces of the collaboration of spoken word, written word, and muted voices (the actions of people). Play me like a violin, whose sweet notes call for me by name (a melancholy song of salvation). A savior in its own right; however, it isn’t right. We fight to fight; we fight to be right; we are wrong; we are strong. In our heads, bodies, in life and in death, we are wrong. Let’s take our one final breath and sleep forever under the moons ever-glowing shadows. The end of it all, let’s take our climactic bow. We need to walk a million miles of untraveled road to get to where we are going, to see into the sky (envisioning the starlight’s gold). As a tone of finality, we must tread on nothingness to believe in the epic pause, to face your epic flaw (or flaws), and sleep with your epic spouse. In the premiere of the next big show, savor the flavor of this epic blow. Legitimize your fate; make it legal to your own laws. Painkillers don’t take away the pain caused by emotional strife. The contention suggests the dimensional space of the 1D, 2D, 3D, 4D lands. Where does it stop? Can we go past time to find outside realms? Is it time and space? Is it time or space?

Ramblings: Part Two

A placard with one name on it, Simian; a vision with a bullet’s shell; a rock with a smudge on it. Connect the dots. Who am I? Placemats with no silverware. How can you get someone to believe you when all they ever heard had been lies; amoral. Can I touch you with words? I never laid a hand on you. Can you hide your feelings from me? I see through you like glass. I want to take all the lies, hurt and damage caused to you and swallow it. I am strong, but I am empty. An open wound on my heart that doesn’t seem to heal. Is it so wrong to expect love? To feel love? Maybe, but it shouldn’t be wrong to accept it for what it is. Is it unconditional? Unlikely. The conditions are mostly mental and emotional; a connection sensed through the heart and not sight, touch, sound, smell or any other “senses”. The colloquial usage of the word “love” has lost its effect. I am here to bring it back. Love has a power, not unlike that of religion. It has surely been used over the years by the power-hungry man, or woman, to gain something: acceptance or perhaps sex. Don’t use a term you don’t understand because it will corrupt the integrity of the word. It has happened again and again over the years. Love, Religion, Faith, Marriage, don’t feed the destruction of language. You can only be ignorant for so long, Mr. boy-who-cried-wolf. It is a challenge, save yourself from the grasps of your peers (including societal standards). Don’t be afraid to be different. I don’t mean you, you gothic, emotional punks. Don’t be different for difference’s sake. I know you; I see you; I hear you, hiding behind your facades. We live in a strange world; a homogenous society of individuals. Quite perplexing, eh? Sounds like a paradox. It’s not. Think aloud. You are the same as every other person, but it isn’t meant to be. Tick-tock the clock is auto-winding. Without change it will rewind itself once a day and be aligned with the collective unconscious we so proudly adhere to. The one of the human race. We are special. We reason; but so does every single human who lives on this wonderful planet (within limitations). You can’t simply put on a mask and change your emotional state. Try it and be defeated. It is kind of like hiding in the open, in the middle of the day, and sunny. All the thieves, murderers, rapists, and religious extremists ( I am just showing the inherent evil present, not including these or excluding others), you are no different than the business men (women), teachers, priests, artists, linguists of the world. Believe in the connection of society. One will not work without the other. Greatness is not built on self-pity nor is it built by letting your head explode exponentially with egotistical manifestations. Two people meet. There is a mechanical connection between the two people. Why? You don’t get the same connection between a man and an animal. It isn’t possible. It doesn’t matter the race, age, politics, language or any other obstacles that make man independent from any other man. It is easy to visualize the concept through the collective unconscious. We all have fears; we all have can be happy; we all can simply know things. It is the nature of mankind to know. Fundamentally different? I suppose it depends on who you ask. Ask yourself why one man deserves to go on living (once again within limitations) and another deserves to die; why one man deserves love and another deserves to be shunned by society. My words, like communism, are essentially empty because of the greed of Man and the unwillingness to accept change (don’t act like you do). We will forever, always have and always will, trample the ideals that we call equality in socio-economic-humanitarian relation that can never exist, or even claim existence. I want to believe in change; I want to believe in love, but let’s face it, there will never be a singular connection between people, as one giant mass of humans falling further and further away from universal love. Once again, I am not a religious person, but we do have many things to learn from the holy scripts of Islam, Judaism, Christianity, Buddhism, Taoism, Hinduism, and other texts merely scripted from the minds of humans which shape the world ( I won’t claim they are prophets ). It is a challenge to be non-judgmental about a specific sect, religion, race, cult, or whichever someone believes in without revealing cliché stereotypes about a certain group of people. As we have just learned, we are all fundamentally the same. You may be asking, “Well, if we are all fundamentally the same, why did you challenge us to be different”? Don’t just act different; Be different. It is a challenge not to slip into the mold that your surroundings have created before you and will continue to create after you cease to exist.