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.

A belief in the unbelievable.

This is for the vanquished, the brethren of our seemingly “amoral” society (or perhaps just a relatively ignorant one), and possibly for the one or two stragglers who actually know the truth about the verve. It has come to me in a dream, oh wait, I take back the cliché; it is just there; it has always been there; and it will always be there. What is “it”? Well my friends “it” is the correlation between the mind of a child, the mind of an adult, and the minds’ of all of the critters which roam this earth. First things first, can anyone decided which one(s) are actually amoral? If you chose the minds of both a child and the animals, you are correct. However; it seems to me that the people of this world have slowly decided that, even as adults, they too can be amoral. Well in this case, the naïveté of this perspective can be alarming to people who often times turn their backs on religion, friends, family, and pretty much every other social environment in their lives. Now, I know what everyone is thinking now, “I never turned my back on my friends or my family or even my religion”. I believe you, but I am not quite sure if everyone else would agree. For the friends, it is nearly impossible to say you haven’t turned your back on a friend in the past. The family, well it’s adolescence that turns us away from our families. It is sort of like that biological clock telling you to go have a good fuck and get or get someone knocked up. It happens; you will break free from your family. For the religious people out there, I don’t want to offend you. If you truly believe and have faith in everything your religion stands for then I envy you, but if you are the person who says they are religious for whatever reason, then are hypocritical in your lifestyle, I say fuck you. Believe it or don’t, but don’t be in between. Read the bible. That is a sin. I don’t know about other faiths but half-believing is critically wrong. I am not religious; I am far from perfect, and I have turned my back on friends and family in the past. Don’t be me. Instead, learn about people. Learn how they work, what makes them happy; what makes them angry; what makes them sad. Do whatever it takes to learn about people because with a global population of 6,726,427,872 as of 22:46 GMT, it is hard to say they don’t matter. Figure out who is real and who isn’t. Figure out who you are and who you aren’t. If you figure out who is real and who you are, you will know the truth.

Tennessee: The Theory of Idiocracy.

Rising gas problems, no problem. I have money, sort of. People in the little town of Franklin have money too. What to do when money is no longer the problem. Baron Jake's theory of idiocracy goes something like this: We are from Franklin, Tennessee. We have money. Hurricane Ike!!!!! Let's panic!!!! Let's double our purchases of gas in two days so that it runs out and causes a crisis. I like to drive, that is a given. I am fairly patient, less common. I hate stupid people, shit happens. Don't panic, the world is not coming to an end. Tennesseans of the world aka Middle Tennessee, don't give in to the theory of idiocracy! Let it go.

Ramblings Part One.

Wonderful is just a word, just a word. In reality, it does not exist; it can't. Written in a state of euphoria, happiness is just a mask we wear to disguise true feelings. I don't believe in addiction. It is just a perception of the mind, nothing more than a placebo put out by the government to scare you, but who can face it; you believe in what people tell you, especially figures "seemingly" in power, the Surgeon General for instance. There is no psychological state of addiction. We smoke because we choose to and not because we have to, however, habits are hard to break.When you feel you must do something, simply don't; it is called self-control. The world should try it sometime and then there would be no problems. Hold your tongue when you must excercise self-control to its fullest extent, and perhaps you can live how you imagined, or better yet, live how "they" imagine you to live. It is what "they" want you to think. When you have freedoms, you do not. The problem with ancient writings, classical literature, ect. is that no one understands that shit. Kids are now brougt up reading stuff they can not understand, dead languages in reality. The fact of the matter is that Americans are stupid. Call me "Benedict", but the people of America are lazy and stupid, perhaps myself included. Times change, everyone knows that, and while it is good to remember the past, why should we cling to it? They should atleast update the literature that the teach in classrooms around the U.S. into modern language, instead of that hear me, hear me shit.Old English is extinct. Why should a language that no one uses be taught? It seems useless to me. They should, instead, teach the tongue that we actually speak. Enrich the old stories with modern vocabulary. I don't insist that children be "forced" to go to school past primary school because the decision should be up to them and his or her family. That being said, I think if we keep lowering the standards of modern school systems to suit the people who don't even want to be there, we will continue to breed a nation of idiots.

When you think about life, it really isn't is great as it first seemed. What if you are just a part of nothing? What if we are all just figments of a superpower brain, not necessarily a god, but something bigger than us. Just an imagination of something, not unlike ants to humans. No one can justify mankind’s existance. America is a stupid country; we have it all and yet, no one can be happy with what they have. It is merely a mask. Marx had it wrong, if everyone was happy, this world would be chaotic, which is exactly why we disguise ourselves. Alas, for man is always sad, but he has learned how to wear makeup. This disguise is holding the world by a thin string. The illusion will fade someday because in the end nothing will matter. Live the lie according to your plan, and if you don't have a plan, you will not survive long. Happiness is a virtue no one could possibly understand. We all strive to be happy, but there is no one key to happiness. Everyone is different, and thus, we all must find out what makes us happy because without happiness, we are dead to the world. What use is a dead person? Just another rotting carcass, and thanks to war, we already have enough of those.

Chess: The Game of Life.

Pawns pay the price for plague,

While the king rules with a frozen soul,

And the good queen’s stance seems quite droll,

The bishop prays for his god, a vague

Violent creature in drunken swagger,

The knight defends his land and honor,

Fleshly wounds, he seeks his valor,

And holds his tongue after bitter lager,

The rook you knew would take the bait,

He lacked the function to keep life straight,

He must accept his pitiful fate,

At last the wonder-- --checkmate.

The Song of Night.

The livid lands scream with wind,

Like the terror; the godsend,

The secret village dotted with houses,

A sneaking suspicion it arouses,

Aloft in a tree an owl speaks softly,

The time stopped at four; the piece faulty,

Crickets sing the song of night,

But the lamp of life in dark is bright,

And dawn evokes the lure of silence,

As daylight visions speak of violence.

A Day in the Life of the Government.

The corrupted mind sips on wine,

While others are but filthy swine,

Power bleeds green,

While crimson still pours from man,

Stitches ripped from crusty seams,

The blind eye sees all plans,

It lives inside innocent ideas,

Only heard in the right ears,

The corrupted minds speaks with greed,

While others are too afraid to lead.

Mr. Thomas Allen

The ascent to the top, burdened,

The flight of fright, abandoned,

The peak seems the bottom now,

The damp mark above the brow,

And a fickle flurry of flowers fallen,

The grave marked, “Mr. Thomas Allen”,

In the beginning, middle, and end,

His sore, slimy soul did contend,

Finished now, life in hand,

The searing label, just a brand,

Roses lay upon his crypt,

Where his heart belonged, it was ripped,

The green sponges grow on top,

The grave marked, “an angel’s teardrop”.

The Passing of Time

Time is like a sputtered clock,

Waiting for its gun to cock,

The time is now, it will explode,

Along its trail, death does bode,

At a moment, it once exists,

Like a wild beast, it persists,

Drunken madness and resentment follow,

Like the insignificant rice-filled swallow,

In an instant, it has come and gone,

The jagged immature fingers up from lawn,

This ocean filled with fish,

Only one type can ever exist,

The one of joy and fate well followed,

In its aftermath, we will wallow.

The Slowest Sorrow

Like the sweetest summer sunset,

Revenge is a sick, sad dream,

It causes wounds without bloodshed,

Like a poker game without bet,

Trying to make cheese without cream,

And after, the blood stains red,

The mentally damaged aged vet,

A rusty cutting edge, unable to ream,

A poison savor, the metallic taste of lead,

Make war and not peace,

Make death and not life.

Women

Women are mysterious creatures. You never really know what they want, even when they tell you exactly what they want. "I would love to go to dinner at such and such". Driving, driving, driving, eating, eating, eating, finished. "Honey did you enjoy your meal"? "Not really, why did we come here"? What does that even mean? Do they not respect the gesture you took to take them out to dinner? I just don't understand and probably never will understand women or what they want or how they want it or even why they want it. Once in a while, you will meet a woman who is the exact opposite. She will tell you what she wants and exactly how she wants it, but will actually mean it. The nerve of some women! You actually try to figure out what they REALLY want and think you figure it out, nope. "You know what I really would like for my birthday honey"? "Uh I don't know, a book"? "No, I would like you to buy me a really cute dress of your choice" Now at this point the guy thinks to himself, " Yes! I can finally get my girlfriend or wife or fiance to wear something slutty"! But then he second guesses himself and buys her a ring. "Why did you buy me a ring? I told you exactly what I wanted for my birthday". The moral of the story. Who the fuck knows what women want?

The Room (Insomnia)

The room is not cold, nor warm, nor hot.
It is tiny, but not crowded with stuff.
Dripping from the faucet, the waters not thick;
The noise - the noise is a trick.

Eyes are shut, but the mind is awake,
Smoke clouds the senses.
And pain sears from the lenses.

No sleep is had, and thoughts are not flowing.
Where the journey will take him after,
There is no way of knowing.

The Book of Revelations of the Depressed Man

So the night begins, or maybe it’s already started, and we are beginning each glass. Time is like going to church, you wish it would burn. So we start the book of revelations. We’ll reveal the secrets of the depressed man, one beer at a time; with each bottom comes reality.

1. Our first thought tonight, and I’ll stick by it: FUCK GOD. I’m not here for an imaginary savior. I’m here to see what I can do to my body, whether it be destroying it or preserving it. Fuck God.
2. I love smoking! It is the healthy alternative to death. I smoke so I don’t have to talk to people. It is like an occupied sign on your forehead that reads, “FUCK OFF”. No matter what, smoking will always make you happy. I smoke to get me further away from what is to be: bald, fat, and paying a mortgage. I am breathing in destiny, and shitting out the American Dream one cigarette at a time. I strive toward a quick existence.
3. Fuck God, again. Reparations are not what they seem, and everything is in its right place. We are who we are; God does not control destiny. I am God, therefore my destiny rests in my own hands, fuck you God. If I was nailed to a cross, I wouldn’t ask for salvation, I would wonder why the fuck no one liked me. After, I would ask for a beer and three Ukrainian whores. Help yourself and help others second. You are not a charity.
4. While beer is good, it really is no substitute for pussy; pussy is what is; life. We search for pussy, but it is never enough. Cocks are the solution to all of life’s problems, without them, we would be lost. Why is it inescapable?
5. Fuck agnostic beliefs. If you are unsure, burn a church. If nothing happens, cut yourself and wipe up the blood with pages from the bible. After that, cry and talk to your friends about how you never understood your dad. Graveyards are for possessive whiners, who can’t accept we are living dirt. Die and be forgotten.
6. Death is imminent, you cannot die. Everyone is saved, but also, fuck God; he isn’t a savior for anyone. He doesn’t understand mortal life; life is life and death, well death is death.
7. While the bible stories may be correct in structure, the lack in practical application. The Ten Commandments are good; however, coveting thy neighbor will happen. Humans love to love, and hate to hate; Marxism at its best and this is only the beginning. In my eyes, all is revealed.
8. On the eighth point, we projected our criticism towards peace preachers. If you preach, practice. So, go tell Afghan villagers that Wal-Mart is taking over and the G8 is a death machine. This is easily achieved if you can wear your bacteria infused dreadlocks and Thai fishing pants at a bongo parade in the West in a city un-phased by war. Go eat a fucking pomegranate, you hairy stink-bomb. Fashion isn’t a political statement, it is a social status. You aren’t doing anything.
9. Nine is always a problem, cats have nine lives, why don’t I? If I could, I would, just so I could finish my job, I am God; I do to thee, as you do to me. Fuck it, it makes no sense, I am only one man in an entire world. Why should I live? As it were, I am only mortal, and nothing more. Death is imminent, so why not go out living well? I love live, but it only goes so far; where will I go? I could never know. My life is a time-bomb, ticking, ticking, ticking and always waiting to erupt. I think the world we live in is corrupt. I am only one man, what can I do? I choose my destiny, and so should you. When will it stop? The pain is too great. It can only escalate, not go down. I couldn’t live without the love of my life. We think, suicide or natural death? I no longer have my natural breath. Pissing is the best way to relieve pressure. It will not help how you feel inside, but it sure does make things easier because it hurts to not be alive.
10. You aren’t blind, you are judgmental. Race, sex, or whatever appearance, someone is always different, and you won’t always like it. That is why you are the best. No one else is you, so protect yourself. Eat first and take the first breath. When you die, someone will bury, and after, they won’t care anymore. Care for you and care for yourself. I live for me, and only myself.
11. Superstitions are wasted breath. The only luck you have is not pissing blood. If your stars line up, drink until you vomit and cry about your pity-filled life. What happens, well it happens. Go to work and pay your bills.
12. What are bills? Monetary gains by the government. It is corruption. The take what they need, and sometimes more. Why is life alive, and death dead? The only one that cares that I am alive is the government; but he just wants my money because I am only there for a moment.
13. I came here to drink and think. You came here to make a stink. I’ll believe in what I got, and go home and after work, and I masturbate a lot. Porn is seen as derogatory, but I see it as self-glory. If I am happy, than that is what I got; you can be happy, I don’t give a fuck.
14. I also came here to drink, but I made such a scene. The bartenders don’t want me to be here anymore. I am such a bore. I just give them money, and they give me alcohol, and we are happy, but that is the extent of our relationship. Life really is a fucking whore. I fuck a lot, and I come a lot, but what have I really got, nothing. I am starting to realize life. I would kill to be killed, and love to be loved. At the moment, there is none. We are at a standstill in life. No life, no death, no love, nothing is what we have. I spit on Satan, and I am God, so what have I got to fear? Fear is just that, it’s nothing. Beer warms you. What I know is for show. I sit here and weep. I wouldn’t even make a peep as long as you leave me alone.
15. Alas, everything is not as it seems. I am merely a figment of the mind, a scrap of paper. I don’t think it would hurt me to be blind because you can’t trust people by their image anyways. It would be like seeing them, but not. No one is as they seem. I am just that. I won’t try to decipher because I know it isn’t possible. I have no life, no reason to live; why I am here no one could know. I am a bow; an arrow striking a target. There is a small margin between what is and what could be. Please, can’t you see it is not I who am wrong, but everyone else. They probably need help.
16. Who knows what life is? Is it really life, or death resurrected? Only one man could know, me; today I live and tomorrow too. Who could possibly know besides me? Everything is changing, and change is good. What if I don’t want it, or worse what if I want it, and it never comes. What will become of me, what I am, what I could be?
17. I wouldn’t have it any other way, beer with a cigarette, computer with porn, a life of unplanned events and happenings. I do what I do. Fuck God, and I’ll be ok. Don’t pretend to like me.
18. I do what I can and nothing more because it is the American way. Is there more? I think not. The English language is beautiful, so many words, so little time. It is my treat. Wordplay and lessons make me complete. I say what I want, and that is that.
19. I make mistakes, and then I know what not to do. After, I do not know what I really know. Now I made a mistake, so I will do what I should do, live and learn. Tomorrow I will probably be drunk. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I am drunk. I know how to get drunk, I made that mistake. If I live until I am 50, I will know I saw a lot. After that, it doesn’t really matter because I can’t do anything when I am old except ponder about what could have been. Old is like a nice way of saying useless. No one likes being useless. I use myself to what I have got. Use me. Misuse me. “Dodging all the lies I’m fed, I’ll live my life, and then I am dead” Leftover Crack. “I agree.” Matt Smith. I don’t do life; life doesn’t do, it takes, so I will take it from myself.
20. When I am done, I know I am done. It cannot be undone. I cannot be won-over. When I am done, that is it, finished, over. What are you? Life is life and death, well death is death. Completed.
21. If I had anything to tell you, you should read this. The Book of Revelations doesn’t tell you what to do; it tells you what we know. When we get old, we will probably think differently. If you are old, and you have done this, we don’t care. This is now.
22. If you want kids, you are probably working. You’re probably thinking about it. Having kids is spreading a virus. Humans infect a rancid wound. I’m a virus. I don’t help anything. If you breathe, you take. Consume and be what you consume. You’ll be sorry. I told you so.
23. Life is pain. It hurts. Try to see how far you get when I am hurt. Now, I bleed black. Smoking too much; I don’t understand why I can be hurt but can’t hurt myself.
24. I still like smoking, and I still don’t like God. I don’t need you to prove anything to me.
25. If I could do it all again, I wouldn’t have it any other way, then and now. It’s what happens. I know not what I really want, but what I want I cannot have because she said so. Fuck it, what do I really have? All I do is drink to get drunk and that is that. I drink.
26. Tomorrow, we will do it all again. Drunk or not, we will do it all again. That is why God doesn’t make sense.
27. I am not the smartest man, but I like looking at porn, and then I masturbate; I feel better.
28. Love is like a knife. Cut me and I’ll bleed for you. I cut you, and you hated me. That’s why I like knives, cut me, love me; cut you, hate me.
29. Fuck God, Fuck You, Fuck Living, and Fuck Drinking, but I am still smoking.
30. I think I am through, but I am not. Everything is as it is not. I am too far behind to understand what is, but what is not I am sure of. It never makes sense to me. What am I? Who am me? Nothing but a pawn in the game of chess.
31. Being alone is not too much to handle, the problem lies in the inability to function. Why wait? Death is imminent. Fuck God. You only live once. Fuck God. Nothing is as it seems. I cut the pain with a dull blade, because it couldn’t hurt any worse.
32. The night draws to an ends. The book is finished of what we know. If you are stupid, you will believe us. Otherwise, you will live a life we don’t care about.
33. Why not end on an odd number divisible by 11?

Daydreaming

I wonder if anyone has ever had a moment in his or her seemingly significant life, when you find yourself daydreaming. Not just daydreaming, but in fact finding yourself outside of the realm or reality, delving into your imagination where you can see, feel, taste, and even smell everything in this "vision" before you. I recently had one such event occur to me on several seperate occasions. For a little background information, I lived in Poland for nearly eight months and had a smashing time and have long since recognized certain smells and feelings associated with the Polish traditions and culture. On one of these amazing adventures into my own consciousness, I discovered that I was actually smelling the memory from which I was daydreaming about. I found it quite exciting, and I even concluded for myself what I have always heard: Smells are the longest lasting memory impressions. It is easy to forget a face in your thoughts, but when do you forget smells?