this is easy
ventilate
breathe in -breathe out -ventilate -nebulize
ventilate
breathe in
ventilate
breathe in
breathe in
its official. its always been official. there is some sort of fascination in the brilliance of dimness, some sort of fixation with unattainable youth.
i saw my future, my past and my present in a living room watching reba today.
my future slept underneath me, wanting to be held and pushing away everything that wanted to hold him, locking one out with his words, the other behind doors and body pillows.
my past sat next to me, his lips and eyes and his dull wit screaming at me, reminding me of who i am, whatever i have become. it screamed why.
my present just screamed, slammed doors, and begged for just something more.
yes clyde. it is as heavy as it seems.
breathe out
no teenage flinch
nebulize
tori - siren
breathe in
the concept of neverstill is still new to me. and to everyone else. see something more tomorrow.
breathe in
i've thought a lot about karma in the past few days, and karma has nothing but a fucking twisted sense of humor.
i became so stressed out i lost my voice. it wasn't alcohol or cigarettes or any other body damaging vices; those i kept in check. just at one point, i couldn't speak. maybe it was psychosomatic, and it was my higher self knowing that the foul thoughts that were circling my head should never be spoken like the infinite names of cthulu. or conversely, maybe i knew i had said enough, damning most with half sermons even hypocrites like ted haggard would be proud of.
(for example, at one point over the past week i announced that if someone had come hundreds of miles to embarrass themselves and everyone around them then they should all go to their hotel rooms now satisfied with a big fat mission accomplished, and if they needed any other motivation my foot in their ass was a handy option.)
now, alone for the first time discounting sleep in 2 weeks, i get electronic pleas for forgiveness. thanks for your hospitality....sorry you can't go to that bar for a few weeks... i meant i love you like a brother... i'm sure he'll speak to you in a couple weeks... just tell them i did it... i'll make it up to you....
am i bitter and selfish if i don't forgive? am i wrong to want to punish those that have wronged?
i know it sounds like gay drama, but i'm honestly not prone to that in real life, i just play a disgruntled fag on tv. i shouldn't care about my reputation, my social standing, but i do. and when i'm associated with a herd of drunk guys who don't realize that denver really is a mile high and unless you live here you should really watch your intake, or have my connections look at me sideways because i associate with the type that can't walk around the bar without exaggerating their inebriation, is that reason enough to condemn and chastise because it inconvenienced me?
if you didn't live your life right the first time, don't make me relive it all in one weekend as a learning experience.
nebulize
big wheel - tori
breathe in
didn't drink enough tonight to counteract 16 hours of sleep. so i've been working on the dhp (more to come) and catching up on my late night craziness. oh... and this
nebulize
three
gravel - ani difranco
you and i both - jason mraz
precious illusions - alanis morissette
your cloud - tori amos
burnt like you - skin
that day - poe
i don't love you - my chemical romance
the reflecting god - marilyn manson
straight - veruca salt
heaven sent - esthero
jenny i read - concrete blonde
jenny was a friend of mine - the killers
pardon me - incubus
shut your mouth - garbage
everlong - foo fighters
sorta fairytale (demo) - tori amos
neverstill
famous last words - my chemical romance
long way to happy - pink
endless dream - conjure one
zero point - tori amos
without you i'm nothing - placebo
cannonball - damien rice
song for holly - esthero
paris - bt
mechanical animals - marilyn manson
animal - pearl jam
deadwood - garbage
hyperballad - bjork
disenchanted - my chemical romance
breathe in
on another site, someone whom i respect made an argument that essentially started out with the statement 'this is why i love ann coulter'. actually the name of the post is why i love gay bashers and his point was how many times their hatred backfires and inspires people to rethink their own prejudices.
of course, since i am darth emo, i had to see the dark side.
here is my rant of a response: (written in one fluid stream in about 6 minutes)
the grim reality of ann coulter is that her remarks weren't entirely accidental. with the race for the presidency already in full swing what better way to make the sheeple look away from the drunken puppetmastery that has killed so many of their brave and obedient sons and daughters than to pick at the scabs of their hemorraged insecurties.
i know i sound like the looming shadow of darth emo, but for everyone who stands up and realizes the inhumanity of the neocon crusade against a segment of society who are simply asking everyone to destigmatize an alternate expression of love there are those bizarro world born inbreds who think, 'first that black guy that bounces a ball for a living and now the hot chick with the adams apple... wooeeee roscoe thats a call for our fag bashin sticks, we can cover up that tape of your sister and the donkey with somethin' else.'
it is reverse psychology used in the most insidious way. by making hate a public slander that is universally reacted to with disgust and disgrace, especially from someone, such as tim hardaway, that is supposed to be a role model, the reactionary zealots see that as a limitation to their freedoms and essentially becomes the proverbial feather tickling the toe of the sleeping giant.
ignorance in any form is viral, and multiplies faster than you can say ozark teen pregnancy. and like nuclear fission research in third world countries, ignorance inevitably acts as the calvary generals saber, a seemingly bright beacon that only leads to despair.
we can, like you, hope that this time more people wake up and smell the rotting white sheets they've warn to protect their private prejudices (or for some their private shame) they arise from the long sleep of supposed moral socialism and defend their ideals from this corporate sponsored second coming of blind imperialism.
i've said before on my own blog that i'm bitter, so did you expect any less?
here is the original post. eatsumtoast
if you don't have a membership to the site, or you are a cootie filled girl that can't register, or i fucked up on the link let me know.
breath out
thats it, resume your various levels of self abuse.
nebulize
jonatha brooke - glass half empty
breathe in
i've been thinking about lucifer lately. i've cruised the sites of philosophical and theosophical luciferians, the mindless opposition of the religious right, and the historical essays by entymoligical scholars. i've seen a progression from proper noun, to adjective, to concept, back to proper noun as history dictates the black and white of religion and secular science. the word itself, in essence, is light. its reflected planetary positions, the lamp of the suns, the origin of the stars, and a fallen shadow that plots agains all morality. lucifer is a word of power, no doubt, as ancient as yhwh or baal, zeus or osiris. it has been transfigured into a literary figure, from biblical interpretations to milton, and most recently a comic book. say lucifer and you trigger a reaction, an ancestral memory or a modern moral crusade. objectively, it can be said that on certain levels, we all strive toward a luciferian existence, and maybe thats why they hate him so much.
breath out
i want to be divine light, regardless of who i piss off.
nebulize
my chemical romance - i don't love you
breathe in
one of the best concepts in the gluttonous yet so deliciously disgusting world of television right now can be summed up in one word.
bullshit!
penn and teller are now on season five of their cable series that examines and exposes common misconceptions and all out ignorance in regards to subjects ranging from modern academics to the occult. in terms even a president could understand, they examine the ways in which cultural norms and our current moral paradigm have limited, and ultimately stifled, our ability to perceive certain issues logically and objectively.
one of their best examples, and one that personally reaffirmed things that i had always suspected, was a show centered around animal rights, and specifically peta. if i remember correctly, there was a lot of dead flesh abused in any number of ways, all legal, during the course of that one. the show more than implies but doesn't flat out say that most of the founding and/or high ranking members of the organization admittedly have no problem with the loss of human life in contrast to that of any other creature in the animal kingdom, and by doing so also explores the psychology of guilt and self hatred that permeates them. public protest and celebrity endorsement obfuscates a complicated and almost militaristic heirarchy that brings to mind the psychotic and sociopathic rabidity of the religious right.
peta, following the lead of cults such as scientology, uses celebrities to normalize extremist methodology. its seems that just behind exploitative pictures of a near naked pamela anderson, just behind the shadow left by her synthetic almost bionic mammaries lurk the even more shady spectres of eco-terrorism and obsessive animaphiles. (i think i just made up a word there, but it sounds smart and you know what i mean.) countless crimes have all but been linked to the so called charitable organization, with card carrying members arrested in such illegal and just plain reactionary actions such as freeing animals from testing labs or posting threats agains prominent researchers.
so you can tell that i think that peta can go to hell.
that doesn't mean that i don't like animals. far from it actually. but i am also an advocate of the philosophy that anything, whether it be substance or idea, in excess is inherently wrong.
although marginally aligned with some of the ideals of peta, the humane society, an organization that can't afford to pay on their way out hollywood c and d listers enough money to supply their coke habits for the next month to do full page ad in vogue or cosmo, has been working on an investigation that peta, with its admitted media manipulation expertise, has yet to really publicize at all.
http://apnews.myway.com/article/20070223/D8NFFQL81.html
the explanation, and this is really just my opinion, is that over the past few years peta has lost relevance and acceptance by the national and even international communites. this has been the result of peta member involvement in non urgent issues that tie up congress and generally piss off those of us that feel i would much rather take care of family than walk in the footsteps of "god the great and terrible"
so because i don't want to type anymore, more to come
exhaled by angrypsycho at 3:03 AM 4 shouts
Labels: political, psycho, self-loathing
in 1943, eddie slovik decided that the war flat out scared him, and that if he was ordered to go on the front lines he would rather run away than die a certain death as cannonfodder. he expressed this to his commanding officer, and when denied did so to the officer above that, and so on from what we know.
ordered to be a part of the front lines in a surely losing battle, eddie ran. in 1944 eddie was discovered in the french woods, rather shellshocked and frightened for his life.
"All the men I knew and trained with have been killed." These were his words to the loyalist that found him. "I'm lonely.... The shells seem to come closer all the time and I can't stand them."
The soldier that discovered him convinced him that if he turned himself in that the U.S. Army (hallowed be thy name) would forgive his trespasses and after a courtmarshall send him, albeit dishonorably, home.
Soon after slovik was granted the dubious distinction as being the last person in our nation's history to be convicted and executed of desertion.
i empathize with eddie, not as he was but as he is now, as he sits with the dark specters of herod, nero, hirohito, or winston churchill in the shadows of darkened greatness. dissent with a higher purpose, darkness in pursuit of a somewhat loftier strain either through madness, conformity, or dictation summed up in an act of bold cowardice in the midst of worldwide conflict.
in the stories of the serialized graphic novel the sandman the moral that is prevalant is that each person, each intellectual entity, has the freedom to say no, and inevitably the freedom to give in, to give it all away. nero, through the insanities of the roman state and the incestuous royals he was innoculated with, publicized his scandals as much for the education of the public as for his own self immolation. hirohito admitted the weakness of his society in the face of a western tsunami of alien cultural norms that ultimately would overpower him unless he joined with them to slow them to a gentle ebb and flow. herod protected his sovereignity, and thereby his kingdom, by supressing a bloodthirsty blessed heritage that had once decimated the populace of his kingdom and was prophesized to do so once again, to no avail. churchill made deals with devils and false prophets to secure a way of life for future generations at the cost of a near genocide and a slaughter of innocents.
eddie spoke up so we can now. his supposed cowardice has become our strength, his treachery our dogma. his name doesn't echo as those others, and some may even label those as evil. but he did a similar service. he provided us with direction on how, or how not to, use our voices to fight back.
eddie has been lost to history, although his name will be remembered by those of us that know the truth, those of us that have sacrificed the status quo to make a point, to be an example.
mind you all, this is the same backwards thinking that got me almost kicked out of college.
in summation, my heroes are those that have broken the mold, for better or worse, whose actions have actually made it possible for me to write these words. i don't want to descend into madness like nero or herod, or wallow in egomania like churchill or hirohito, i want to learn from their darkness and strive to live in twilight.
(note: this was written all in one sitting, and i'm sure that once i come back a 20 page treatise entitled 'why barbie is bad' is forthcoming, followed by 'ken's plastic adventure')
breathe in
there are a lot of things i am angry about lately. the fact that the death of a professional athlete takes precedence in newscasts over the death of soldiers and innocents caused by an ineffectual man in a sorta round shaped room. i am mad that a school stops the educational process because two not quite star athletes, and most likely members of the elitist few lose their legs in a tragic yet karmic wreck while surely somewhere in those hallowed halls a meek child is beat because 95 percent is just not good enough. i am angry that people do not have the courage to face their fears (feers) and admit the problems that life has dealt them are indeed their fault when looked at from the angry bitter weathered trunk. i am angry at myself, for not standing up in the face of adversity and claiming the mantle that is mine, purple velvet and bloodstains and all.
breathe out
i thought this picture was fun, and just more than a little hot.
ventilate
there are random visions in the place we go for the words, for the pictures. look into the flames and i will show you 4 worlds and 1 and a thousand pinpricks. look, squire. look
_
It is quite true that I despised the youth the minute he came through the doors. I never had much tolerance for worthless flesh.
The sentries that brought him in could barely hold back their revulsion as his blood oozed over their hands and arms. The wounds looked superficial, but those of us at the tower were not accustomed to any such display of gore, and usually the mere smell of it on the breeze from the southern arcologies sent some of the initiates running for their quarters. His body was limp in their arms, his eyes only half open, drool falling in silent strings of saliva on the stones of the foyer. A gurgling sound rumbled in his throat, more than likely the first sound in a thousand years to have been spoken by meat in these halls.
I remember the glances that were exchanged, the air of worry that trailed behind the boys feet as they dragged and skipped across that ancient and holy place.
No words were spoken. Few, if any, were among the initiates in the tower. Those of us that had earned the right to act freely mostly kept to ourselves, fearing that the knowledge the tower had given us would be corrupted by the perceptions of the other gifted. Taint was a threat that was ever constant, and those few who had been to the upper levels and tasted of its gifts knew that all too well. Benjamin told me later that when he saw the boy he made a silent prayer to the Engine to protect himself from the dark taint of flesh that was invading our sanctum. I looked to my partner, a simple thing that had been discovered in the wastes near Cormania, and with the steel of my eyes commanded him to ignore the scene and concentrate on our daily work.