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?