wicked mysterious light

breathe in

yet another recurring theme in this experiment. hangovers. yee-haw

breathe out

today i was able to look through my personell file at work. that bitch that used to be my boss went through my personal items and put copies in there. writing, sketches, doodles, all that stuff. why in the hell would you want to put that in a file unless you intended to use it in some malicious way later? fucking cunt. one was on a piece of a legal pad and it was my random thoughts when i was very sick of my job. what the fuck would she want that chicken scratch for other than to try to railroad me later.

i am so glad that the evil has left that place. only to be replaced by pregnant mexicans. blah

jamaica inn

nebulize - tori

can you patch my jeans peggy ann?
just a little stitch to mend the hole
he has torn
if you can
maybe i got too set in my way
she says she reminds him of me
when we first met
in those early days...
the sexiest thing is trust
i wake up to findthe pirates have come,
tying up along your coast
how was I to knowthe pirates have come?
between rebecca’s
beneath your firmaments
i have worshipped
in the jamaica inn
in the jamaica inn.
with the gales
my little boat was tossed.
how was i to knowthat you’d send her
with a lantern
to bring me in?
"are you positive this is a friend?"
the captain grimaced.
"those are cliffs of rock aheadif i’m not mistaken."
the sexiest thing is trust
i wake up to find
the pirates have come,
tying up along your coast.
how was I to know
the pirates have come?
between rebecca’s
beneath your firmaments
i have worshipped
in the jamaica inn.
in the jamaica inn.

its been nice since the biopsy

breathe in

it wasn't as hard as i thought. it wasn't i swear

breathe out

who are you to finesse my favor?

nebulize

kelly clarkson (yes her) - since u been gone

sammy brady is my hero

breathe in

i have to go to work in a bit so i will make this short. tonight marks the end of an era. things won't be the same and i don't know how i feel about it.

at least i don't have to worry about getting my drinks without ice on accident anymore.

i'll miss you both.

breathe out

tori tickets go on sale saturday morning. i expect it to be sold out within 15 minutes.... just a guess.

nebulize

tori - toast

this pill that keeps the pain living

breathe in

ssdd. anyone read that book dreamcatcher? that's how i feel. ssdd. i did get the new tori cd a day late. i'm just not a good fan....

i have decided to hibernate again.

more later.

i'm a perfectionist and perfect is a skinned knee

breathe in

i think that my emotions are getting the best of me due to a lack of nicotine intake. damn conniving tobacco companies. last night there was an episode of the x-files where there was this transformer installed in power boxes that made people go nuts when they watched tv. it's sort of like that. its not quite a nic fit. its more of a i want to rip off your balls and stuff them down your uerethra sort of fit.

but i love the full flavor of a chemically soaked dried leaf. oh what a feeling.

breathe out

i have finally decided that the cel phone was perhaps the most petty and vainglorious invention that we as a people have ever devised. i want the convenience of ensuring my popularity while at the same time having the ability to call and have a broken conversation with someone that i could have just waited to talk to until i got home. but what about an emergency you say? well now every fuckwad thinks that a swollen left nipple is a fucking emergency that they need to call a doctor about, even if they are down at the bar swigging a few beers. you need to stay in touch with people? how about personal interaction. how about living life instead of simulating it electronically.

maybe that's why i'm not popular

sorry.. i had a thought and lost it.

this stupid place drains me

nebulize

tori - the power of orange knickers

lime green and tangerine

breathe in

sometimes i feel very alone. i have people that enjoy my company. i have people that enjoy my conversation. but in the end i just feel alone. most people get a job and have a group of friends that they met there. not me. i seem to run on others coattails, to wait for others to blaze the trail and then hop on. or maybe i don't want anyone to get too close. or maybe i just don't care if they do or not.

maybe its time to start over.

maybe its not too late.

my evil is strong, i want to do bad things

breathe in

wow.. i had my first evil lyric post. of course you all should know that i have a thing for tori, and that new song is just about everything that has been going on with me right now. it goes from the first to the last. and my dumb ass, through rejection dejection and ejection, goes back to him again. i even found a picture of him. i saved it. dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb. first love is always the best love is always the worst love.

i believe that i have really messed things up. i know it.

nebulize

the killers - smile like you mean it

sleeps with butterflies

nebulize

airplanes take you away again
are you flying above where we live?
andiI look up, a glare in my eyes
are you having regrets about last night?
i'm not, boy
i like rivers that rush in
so then i dove in
is there trouble ahead, for you, the acrobat?
i won't push you unless you have a net
you say the word
you know i will find you
or if you need some time, i don't mind
i don't hold on to the tail of your kite
i'm not like the girls that you've known
but I believe I'm worth coming home to
kiss away night
this girl only sleeps with butterflies....with butterflies.
so go on and fly then, boy
balloons look good from on the ground
i feel you
pins and needles are out
we may fall and stumble upon a carousel
it could take us anywhere
you say the word
you know I will find you
or if you need some time, i don't mind
i don't hold on to the tail of your kite
i'm not like the girls that you've known
but I believe I'm worth coming home to
kiss away night
this girl, this girl...
you say the word
you know I will find you
or if you need some time, i don't mind
i don't hold on to the tail of your kite
i'm not like the girls that you've known
but i believe i'm worth coming home to
kiss away night
this girl only sleeps with butterflies....with butterflies...with butterflies
so go on and fly, boy

swine and sweat

breathe in

i started posting on the P+E board again. i forgot how fun it really is. it just makes me feel old, especially when the high school kids get on there. lately a lot of things make me feel old. last night i was hanging out with a 21 year old, and it was like hanging out with an alien. maybe i am out of touch. maybe i am just old. old old old old old. and ugly.

breathe out

tori amos is coming out with her new album, the beekeper, which is scheduled for release tuesday. i have heard 3 songs already and i will tell you that it is an enlightening and marvelous work, or at least the portions that i have heard. the first single, sleeps with butterflies, made me cry. it made me cry. definitely a keeper. any of my peeps in denver here she will be here 4/19. if you love her cd's go see her live. its amazing.

end shameless plug.

nebulize

tori amos - sleeps with butterflies

black and blue shred in ribbons of lithium

breathe in

i can't believe that i have stuck to the whole breathe in breathe out stuff. good for me. way to stick to a format. now i just need to teach myself html, so i can really rock the mullet here.

breathe out

short posts suck

the powers of the light and the air

breathe in

more fiction i've found.... some of it slightly off topic...

ventilate(FICTION)

we always split on the concept of flesh. are we meat infused with spirit, or spirit encapsulated by meat.

he always hates it when i call it meat.

when i was young i crashed on my bike, pretty bad i gotta say. i think i was picking out gravel from my eyebrows for weeks. part of my arm had nearly been scraped down to the bone. the thing is, i didn't feel it. it's like my mind shut everything down and there wasn't any pain. sure i cried, bawled like mad just because i saw blood. people cry when they see blood all the time, especially if it's their own. i just remember seeing the meat scraped along the ground, looking a little bit like raw hamburger. if it would happen now i'd probably laugh.

regardless, thinking back i have to say that was the first time i knew that pain didn't really matter anymore. yeah sure, i still cry when i see blood, only if it's mine. but it's not because it hurts. it's because i'm angry and a little annoyed that the world would actually have the nerve to try to pull that shit on me.

i only hate it when people cry when they are scared. just because they don't see the colors doesn't mean that i should feel sorry.

i've learned that you can live without the meat. you can live without the blood. but no one can live without dignity, and if they don't have it they just flat out just don't deserve life.

he tells me i'm wrong.

if i didn't love him i would show him exactly how right i am.

2003

breathe in

so i was wandering around and i found this online... where i will not tell you because i know there are people that read this that will get a little angry about where exactly i found it. anyway, this another glimpse into the whole world, even though its sort of old.

ventilate (FICTION)

there was a bright spot on the horizon as the blood fell down his brow and colored the grey around him beautiful shades of brown and crimson. and then he realized she was dead. her eyes still smiled at him, just as they had a hundred times, and her lips still begged him to lean into them and let them envelope him and enrapture him with their touch. but her skin was so white. and then there was the knife.

"it always comes down to this, doesn't it jason," a voice says, booming behind him as the voices of gods and devils often do in dreams. "down to you and me and this last horizon, the final stage for the first act of this tiresome drama." the voice seemed to come closer, and then behind and then in front yet never quite in view.

"i have never done this before. i don't know what you are talking about. this is not me. i have not done anything wrong."and with the words a flash of light, fading into lush greens and blues swirling on every inner and outer horizon. flowers emerge from everywhere smelling sweet of lilacs and orchids. trees with brilliant greens and slightest blues rise above, a sweet mist falling down from their velvet canopy. and in the distance, he comes.

"you really don't remember me do you?" he says walking lightly forward. his steps are slow and methodic, his pace even and steady. "i bet you do not even remember her. do you boy? what is her name?"

he doesn't speak. he doesn't remember.

"won't boy. you won't remember. you can do anything you want and have always been able to. that is why you don't know me. you've already killed me boy. that's why we're here." he says amused. he steps out from the shadow and he sees the scars on his face, criscrossed and beautiful in the dappled light from the trees. a true work of art. transmorgrification. that is what he called it when he did it.

and her remembers.

"gabriel, it has been a while."

and her skin was so white.

and they are all beautiful.

an emotional landslide in physical terms

breathe in

i went and had drinks last night. there were a lot of things that happened that i shouldn't talk about, or maybe just wait a day or so to do so. but fuck, i'll do it anyway.

why is it my fucking responsibility to be your sanity? i can barely even contain my own, but you expect me to fix your life. you expect me to be your rock. i'm sorry that you can't handle the real world. stop drinking. stop sulking. live your life and don't mourn it. you make me sound like a self help guru on crack and i hate it.

and as for you, the other one. you made this problem and you knew what was going to happen. why in the fuck is it my mess to clean up? the shattered glass that has been left behind has dug a little too deep into my heels, and you keep a step ahead of me spreading out salt. this is not my mess. i never approved of this in the fucking first place, against it from the start.

and the rest of you. keep enabling. keep bitching. just let me take care of it. fuck you.

i'm not a fucking nice person, don't make me be one against my will.

nebulize

snake river conspiracy - somebody hates you

how to keep smiling when you're thinking of killing yourself

breathe in

so i decided to yahoo my blog title. granted i knew it was a garbage song. i knew it was a novel. i give that all credit in my own special way. I FOUND 30 OTHER BLOGS/LJ'S WITH THE EXACT SAME NAME. and i thought i was sooo creative. i thought that i was special. i thought you should know.

i think thats like the first time i've used caps at all in any post on purpose.

wow, now that's cool.

breathe out

to add to the above observation, why in the hell when you google something do you always get results that are fucking 5 years old. i found my old geocities page there, and that was dismantled 2 years ago. yahoo and google are fast becoming media giants by any standard, and they should have thought of technology that will weed out sites that are just plain old. my personal favorite is when you go to one and then the owner tries to sell you the domain name. i by no means am computer saavy, but damn gina, get yourself checked before you get wrecked.

that was lame.

breathe in

dilemma: bug my friends for dollar drinks vs. go to a strange, but very nice, boy's house to make out

stay tuned for the results

nebulize

garbage - sleep together

19

ventilate(FICTION)

there are words that you can say that describe pain. there are things that you can think of that describe depravity. there are words that you can believe that mean sacrifice.

there is nothing that can reflect terror.

when i was 5 years old i saw a dog being eaten in the street by a few squirrels and a rat. it wasn't that bad really. biology class told me that it was natural and who am i to argue with the national education system. all hail the magnate. all follow the mandate.

in 1932 they knew better. in 1908 they nearly died. this is fact.

the words that follow will probably get me jailed. more than likely get me executed. if i sound nervous it's because I am. if i sound desperate, it's because i'm scared.

sometimes i don't know and sometimes i do. and that's the truth.

i found a diary about 4 years ago. no i don't know what year that would be so don't ask. since they changed the calender i really don't know anything anymore. time actually seems to be breaking down, so nothing is definite. but in this diary i found the truth about 1908, about 1932, about Jason. i found out about the magnate, i found out about the archive. i think i know the truth. it all started in siberia.

nebulize

garbage - stroke of luck

fallen: how to lose your wings in 12 easy steps

breathe in

that fucking helicopter again at the exact same time.

i shall kill. yes i will.

actually i had another purpose for this. i was going to explain some of the fiction for some of you that just don't know me that well. i have had this same story running through my head since i was like 16. i have written crappy poetry, on the fly episodes, and one really good, in my opinion, short story that all lay the groundwork for some of the stuff that you see here. its great that i have the concept, but i don't have the patience and i just can't get into their world often enough for me to really turn it in to the next great novel. so if you have the desire, read all the different ventilate sections and you will see that there are a couple of recurring characters and scenes. i know that they don't make sense, but in a sick way they are all right in their place in my head. yeah thats how fucked up i am. like the email one, which i still need to go and edit because there are a whole bunch of typos, on the outside you might not know how it fits in to the two people on the train, which doesn't quite fit in with the girl in the gypsy caravan, which really doesn't relate to the doorway between worlds and what the fuck is the shit with the council, or the magnate. who is jason, who is gabriel, who is michael, who is vyvyan. i will tell you one thing. they are all bad people. there is only one person in these stories on this page that i would say has multiple redeeming qualities, and i won't tell you who that is. lets just say i do have a draft going of a rewrite of the very first dream i had about this. and yes, all of these have been inspired by dreams. bad ones.

lets give you a hint. just a little one...

ventilate(FICTION)

there is a house on lincoln. you know the one with the dirt lot for a front lawn. its not really that bad of a house, may need some repairs but otherwise its in pretty good shape. i heard that there was one of those murder suicide things in there, you know some guy pops his wife and the puts one in his forehead out of guilt. that's why it won't sell.

when i was little we used to walk past there everyday and look in the windows and everything. there's still furniture in there, but most of it looks like there is a four inch pile of dust on it. it never really scared me, but some of the other kids would say its haunted or that stuff. they used to dare people to crawl in the basement window, it was broken and just big enough for your average 12 year old to squeeze through. i did it once and didn't really see anything. i did find one cool thing.

i walked through the upstairs part. i remember that the floors were really creaky, like obnoxious loud. it was well lit because it was like 4 in the afternoon and none of the windows were boarded up. like i said not scary. there was this long hallway and at the end it turned a corner into a room. that room was the only room in the house that didn't have anything. no carpets, no furniture, nothing. well not quite. in the center was this weird looking stove, like one of those woodburning ones. it was black, and the only really weird thing was that it looked like someone had removed the chimney. on the side there was a plaque, just had the letters b.r.d.n. i always remember that. anyway, i just thought it was funny looking, it just didn't look right. still, wasn't creepy or anything. i opened the little latch in the front and looked in. that's where i found the knife.

i still can see it just like that day. the knife was the most beautiful thing that i had ever seen. it was silver and gleamed like it had just been polished. i guess since it was in that stove it had been protected from the dust that had settled in the rest of the house. it wasn't all fancy or anything, just smooth and, i guess, pretty.

no this is the weird part. i walked back down, knife in hand, and in the front room of the house there was this guy. he smiled at me, and i remember i didn't feel scared, even then. he just smiled. he told me his name was jason and he thanked me for getting his knife. he walked up, sorta messed up my hair, then he asked if i wanted to sit down. i remember looking out the front window, and all the kids i had been with were gone. he told me they had went home like 20 minutes before, that i had been in the house for over an hour. he came in to check on me when i didn't come out. he told me that this was a very dangerous place and that i was very brave for coming in here by myself. i never really got that. he then told me that this was just the first time that we were to meet, and there would be two other times, and not to be surprised when i saw him again. i will never forget him. he was tall and blonde and muscular. he looked like a model or something. i think his hair was highlights to tell the truth. then he like stood up, and his smile went away. he told me i had to leave.

next thing i knew i was walking home. i didn't remember leaving the house, or what happened until i was like a block away from my house. i've never really told anyone that story before. but its just weird. when i met you tonight i just couldn't stop thinking about that day. sorry if that sounds weird. it's just that you are just the hottest guy that i have seen here in a long time, and i don't know you are just so easy to talk to. you are such a good listener. sorry, i know i'm psycho.

"that doesn't sound weird at all, kent. now tell me about your friend jonas. and while you're at it can i have his email address?"

there are other worlds than these

breathe in

there has been this fucking helicopter that has been circling the neighborhood every day and its really getting on my nerves. i understand that increased police presence is a plus in this area, but come on, how many fucking criminals are you going to catch circling around at 10 pm on a fucking thursday. fuck fuck fuck! i have a headache, my body hurts and i don't know if i'm hungry or not. and i still have to walk down the street later too. fuck! i hate this shit.

hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate

i told my so called roommate last night that i want him out. he didn't like that. i said that he needs to find a place by the beginning of march. i mean he can afford to go to chicago in march he can afford to get the hell out of here. sure its been nice to have the little bit of extra cash, but i can't jack off when i want, i can't have 'friends' over when i want, i can't even take a shit when i want. plus he eats all the damn food. i figure that if i just don't go out and buy food he won't eat me out of house and home.

god i'm bitchy today.

breathe out

i saw the most surreal thing yesterday. i mean, i know it was ash wednesday, but to see like a whole city block of people that have black crosses on their forehead is a little unsettling. i mean, there is no edict against whiping the crap off once you walk out the door. if you truly believe in the backwards superstitious practice in the first place you know that the holy spirit doesn't give a shit if you keep ashes on your forhead for the rest of the day so you can proudly proclaim to your coworkers and friends 'yes i am loved by the catholic god and his puppet the pope'. and christ, a fucking ocean of them swarming the streets with what looks like the mark of the beast on their foreheads. reminds me of the stephen king book insomnia, where the main character sees these deathmarks on people floating around them.

oh yeah and this whole lent crap. give me a break. sure i'll give up something for lent. perfect. i'll give up sleeping with women. that will be perfect. or how about i'll give up sobriety.

breathe in

someone told me that my blog was a little to angsty. fucking right it is. and if the person that said that reads this, you can take my angst and stick it up your ass.

whew i feel better.

jenny was a friend of mine

breathe in

i was told about a week ago that i wasn't allowed to talk about some things and i said i wouldn't. well i will uphold that as a matter of principle. in a sense. no reason i can't talk around it. no reason i can't complain about it. no reason i can't rant and rave. that's what this is for isn't it. anyway, i have a rep to protect.

but on the other hand, my apathy is strong. and i just don't care that much. i'd rather masturbate. yeah i think thats what i'll do. i'll build my own fantasy.... lets see. i'll start off by meeting someone i have a bunch in common with that comes off as very charming and a little dirty. then we'll go to my house and make out. we'll roll around a bit, ignoring the detox twitches and the squeeking of the futon. yeah that was hot.

now thats over, i'll watch my tape of all my children. maggie is breaking up with jonathan due to the fact that there is an aspect of his life that she is uncomfortable with, albeit its only temporary and sorta meaningless. poor jonathan just doesn't understand. plus she just sort of springs it on him, especially since the day before she was doting over him like a schoolgirl. but wait a minute, while he was gone she had a rendezvous with a friend and they shared a kiss. could that have something to do with it? i guess i'll have to stay tuned for the results.

i wonder what i'll do when i go out tonight? maybe i'll go out with my friend and maybe i'll run into someone that i used to date and we can antagonize him a little bit so i can watch him squirm. that'll be fun.

ahhh... good times.

breathe out

everytime i look up something, no matter which search engine i use, i come up with the same five results. sure, there aren't that many websites on hollow earth theory that aren't trying to sell some quacks self published book by just regurgitating a chapter as a teaser. but i still can't believe that there are only five of them out there. yeah you get hundreds of results, most of which are different sections of the same website. i guess the internet search engine was built more for sci fi geeks looking up porn and brittney spears. than people doing personal research for their neverending serialized novel.

ventilate (FICTION)

the wagons stopped just outside the small village. winter had been unusually warm that year and most of the populace actually didn't make their seasonal migrations to the warmer south, but still it was unusual to have visitors at all that time of year. from inside the center wagon a pair of eyes stared out into the frozen wastes surrounding the village. she had been with the gypsies for over three years now, and still had not gotten over the sense of wonder that came with every strange new land that their modest caravan would stumble across on their neverending journey.

the men had already begun to unbridle the horses and anchor the wagons. some of the women scavenged the countryside for what little burnable timber and kindling was available. the members of the family, albeit mose were barely related if at all, moved in a silent waltz that she had seen hundreds of times. soon, she knew, the people of the village would venture out, looking to trade in exotic wares or hear stories from the west, and inevitable trade their finest animals and goods for gaudy imitation italian tapestries or some other cheap fallacy.

(continue later, didn't realise i was running late)

nebulize

garbage - vow

red stars and other portents

breathe in

its one of those days. boring sorta. i look back and i can't believe the stuff that i write when i am blitzed. i think i had a point though. i always have a point.

breathe out

some people deny that there are any faults in their personalities. i myself have plenty of faults which i love to expose on a regular basis.

the model of perfection exists in some people's minds as a mirror image of an idealized self.

those people are full of shit.

if you cannot forgive someone's faults, then you are having trouble dealing with your own. i accept my faults and the faults of others. that's why i get to make fun of them, because i understand them.

see, i am a jackass with a purpose.

ventilate (FICTION)

i write this now in an effort to understand, and hopefully pass on understanding to you once i am gone. the following words may not be the absolute truth, but its the truth how i saw it. how it came to me.

the dream began with a light that grew steadily brighter. it almost blinded me and then the vision began.

i saw three people, two men and a woman. one man had a knife and was cutting his own forearm while the woman let the blood drip into her mouth. the third was turned away, his hands covering his face all the while chanting some strange mantra.

then it gets weird.

the scene changes, but the same three are still there. i see one with a sword of light standing in front of the three who are now poised to fight. the one still has the same knife, and for some reason it looks like its burning. the girl has a shotgun, only it looks too small, not quite sawed off just small. and the other man has a book that he reads loudly. the words aren't audible to me really, but i can tell they are loud. the man with the sword of light thrashes in front of them in intense pain.

again it changes. there is a beautiful garden. i walk through it and this time i can hear the birds, i can hear the plants as i move. there is a mumbling in the distance and i head toward it. i push aside a large purple flower, and in a clearing is a man that has his hands and feet bound by of all things an extension cord, and he is naked. he keeps saying over and over: lemon pie coming through. i continue past him. and push aside some more plants.

suddenly i am in a classic dark study, and a man sits in a silk robe smoking a pipe. he smiles and motions for me to sit down. then he slits my throat.

these are the things i saw. i know of two that have come to pass. i won't tell you which ones. all i know is that there is a war out there, and i have a part to play. these visions came to me for a reason. and for some reason, i know that i will die when i find out why.

i know that this doesn't make any sense. i know that i shouldn't bring you into this, but someone else has to know. someone else has to be aware that this happened. when you find this put it in a safe place, but make sure others will know. and don't let it fall into the hands of the council. the magnate must not know these things exist. i pray this finds you in good health. i garauntee that it won't bring any with it.

your forever, jonas

nebulize

eight easy steps - alanis morisette

ron jeremy and everything after

breathe in

i don't understand demands. you do _____ or else. it just doesn't work with me. those of you that know me know that this is all what turns me from nice to i will so go dante on your ass. i know how to punish sinners. i learned it from the inferno. abandon all hope ye who enter mother fuckers.

why don't you understand? why can't you talk to me about it? why are you scared?

things to think about

breathe out

i had a chance to walk through airport security with contraband. no lie. 20$ that i could have turned around into 200. i got freaked. i went to the line, turned around and dumped it. why you may ask? because i wanted to go home. because i wanted to be safe. because i wanted to write this down later. nonetheless the only question i was asked was if i watched the superbowl. i slept through the superbowl. i made a good enough story to convince the guy that i just wasnt a punk trying to get through. i told him that sir paul was fuckin cool. regardless of that, as i walked through the airport, i wondered why it is now so illegal for a loved one to meet their someone sorta great at the gate. why can't they partake of the half-assed fast food on concourse a. why do we live in fear.

because we deserve it, and you know it in your heart of hearts.

we are evil and wrong and we have raped and killed all in the name of free will, and will continue to do so until the protestant god finally says that we have earned our keep.

after all, its what our nation was founded on. something to think about. i will be. maybe a more coherent essay later.

nebulize

orbital - the box

roger dodger

breathe in

when it rains it snows. when it snows i get in trouble. when i get in trouble it hurts.

things to think about


nebulize

do you sleep?- lisa loeb

ps. hi from phoenix

a monument to the friendship that we never had erected

breathe in

this shall be the slowest day on earth. it has been decreed by the gods that govern the laws of the day before vacation. i should make this post something important because i am going out of town this weekend. i should. but i won't. don't worry monkeys, i will prolly get online down there and give an update of how i am doing. if i don't that just means that i've been kidnapped by the people that run the dulce base and they are performing evil experiments on me in the Human Engineering Lab, or HEL. or i just got to drunk and can't move.

breathe out

the resurgence of wrestling as a viable form of entertainment over the past five years really bugs me. i am all for half naked men throwing each other around, but in the context of testosterone driven melodrama... not so much. reminds me too much of the gay bar.

ventilate (FICTION)

"i see you have found me," he said, smiling slyly, his crooked teeth showing slightly. he crossed the room, the candles that colored the world inside his sanctuary flickering as he walks by. "sit down, you've come far."

in the doorway she stood her ground, the modified shotgun drawn and leveled at his chest.

"no need for dramatics, darling. have i not welcomed you here countless times before with open arms. nothing has changed now, not even considering your current affiliation. there is no magnate within these walls, you should know that by now. would you like some scotch?"

TBC....(sorry folks, this is getting a lot bigger in my head than i can put down right now, but to give you a hint this one is called confrontation on park avenue west.)

somethings you are not allowed to say

breathe in

there are a lot of things that i could say today. i could say ______________ or ____________ but i'm not allowed. maybe i can say one thing. i've had a smile on my face all day....

until i got to this shithole that i call work. well i just called it a shithole too. anyway. i get surrounded by idiots, feeble minded pieces of crap. 'i'm sorry that i can't read, they didn't teach me that in fucking jail while i was being fist fucked by my gorgeous bulldike roomate jo, who sort of looks like the chick from facts of life.' they all need to die.

i feel like a postal worker. give me a shotgun.

nebulize

sana fey - naked funk

he says, they break the most beautiful things...

breathe in

so i am filling out my neurocam application. the thing is *nothing interesting has happened today*. i have been jumping at shadows for the past 4 hours and nothing. i have been grumpy but that is a given. i haven't yelled at anyone tongiht. it has been rather slow. maybe that's what i'm supposed to notice. the utter normalcy of modern life. and how it just sucks.

breathe out

lately i just am overwhelmed by the amount of socio-political-religious bullshit that i have to put up with on a daily basis. earlier my soap was interrupted by the collapse of the pope. a frail ailing man gets in the way of my daily dose of fantasy life. how dare he. typical catholic. and now i am probably supposed to feel guilty for making fun of a dying man. the man has been dying his whole life, that's what life is. out of anyone on this planet isn't he the one built up to be most prepared for whatever is supposed to happen after the lights go out? shouldn't the death of a man as influential and glorified as he be held up in respect and not sadness? no. the mindless sheep out there have to cry apocalypse and rapture just because a wise, albeit misguided, man is leaving their position of false leadership. notice how they strategically announced this misfortune at 11:30 pm in rome, in other words the middle of the day in the good ole devil country across the pond. the should have just held up a sign that said REPENT and been done with it. i'll repent only after i have sinned. quick who has the lube?

ventilate (FICTION)

letter found in the dead letter office, lincoln NE

J.
1287 Park Avenue West
(smudes here, unreadable)

you have been warned. in the next four days you will see the signs. you didn't listen, and this one is actually finding what he seeks. he found the knife. he found the book. and he found you. and you actually did nothing to stop him. you like this don't you? you like that there will be a war. you like the strife. maybe all the stories they used to tell about you were true. and to think, i used to defend you. there are rumors going around that you are actually helping him. i wouldn't be surprised. you always did like the underdog. do you think this will do what you didn't all those years ago? regardless, like i said you have been warned. i still will give you one more chance to reprieve. the signs will begin at dawn tomorrow. and then by my sword, you will burn.

fucking traitor.

sincerely, michael

nebulize

chop suey - system of a down