Is It Memorex...?

Whoa, a blast from somewhere in 2009. Interesting to see how I'm not even near as bleak as I was then. This nut should've been locked away for supersilliness!!!


Or is it. I'm not sure what day it is, as if you care. Or even the month. I can see now how my own self fixeyness will come in handy now. In the end, we make the bed we lie in... apocalypse, the end, blah blah blah...

In the end we will not even make a dent so what's the point?

I will continue on, I will conquer, I will win out...

I will be...

Credited for nothing. As far as that goes, I do not care. I shirk off the bonds of all that is expected and...

Will do exactly as I've always done, play my tiny part. The cogs in the wheel, you know...

I think somewhere we went wrong. We are a disease, we are a hope for humanity. We are alot of things that involve alot of sensuality that went wrong. A bad feeling, a thought awry, a diversion from the norm, nothing at all, an accident, a fucking accident...

I want to be the messiah so bad, yet I know I will not make a dent, not a fucking dent...

The most delusional are most often the people that are right, I hope I am not. I see things that are not very nice, not very...

PC. Things in my mind are monsters for most. The worst monsters in my mind are mein own, they all a figment of my... a figment of my... they are you. They are me. They are all of us. We are eternal, we are not eternal. we are eternal, we are not eternal.

To you, we are not infallible, in fact we do wrong whenever we can. We arethe Alpha and the Omega, we are not wrong, we are not right... we just... ARE. We fight, we fight even when we lose, but we are strong, we are strong...

We falter alot, we thank you for the kick in the face, yet we move on, we fucking conquer...

It's Not Easy Being Green... Or A Bean...

Happy New Year's, all.
Just sitting here getting ready to take a shower before bed. Needs be done...
My slippers are too fuzzy and snug inside and they kind of make my feet stink. Ain't nobody got time for that.
So, Cindi and I saw Guilt Trip today, and Hotel Transylvania Friday. Both were enjoyable, enjoyed the time spent with my minion, both seemed to hinge plots on family sticking together, all that. I was pleasantly surprised that Guilt Trip was good, Babs usually makes me break out in "ewwww, WTF"'s.
Anyway, working on mental whatevers this year, and back at the gym. I just have to wait until it opens back up. It's a free gym, with holidays off. Very nice, I used to go to it before. I like to run a mile before I do weights, get the blood pumping. I just wonder how long it'll take before I can run a whole mile without barfing a lung. Oh wellz, but I'll do it.
Anyway, blah blah blah, and a healthy dose of gobblety gook. I came on here tonight thinking I had something to say, but I don't, or it's blocked from me now.
Also, not drinking. Yay for me. Too bad I can't impose it on the rest of the world so I don't have to be subjected to idiocy. Now I just need to get to bed earlier on a regular basis. I'm eating semi decently, mostly diferent beans and green leafies...
Greens.
And beans...
It's not easy.

Give Me Time To Live It Up...

 Whoa, the postmaster has rung thrice this month so far. Vacation nearly over. Not really missing work. Not ready to put the silly nose back on just yet...
Ugh. Ever seen that movie where Nicolas Cage can go through the motions of daily life, and if'n he doesn't like it...
He can go back. I think it's called Next. I know I saw it, and probably posted on it here back in the day. Interesting concept, except I'd use and abuse the fuck out of it. I guess in the end I'd make an early save point where I could pretty much live out a life, and go back and second guess every second guess of every second guess. I'm pretty sure it'd be like back when I'd read those Choose Your Own Adventure type books as a child. I'd be too scared to commit to my choice, and would hold as many pages as I had fingers to be able to go back to a safe place. I guess that describes me to a tee...

Except you might as well throw in a dash of anarchy, balanced with a healthy smidgeon of fatherly, out of date wisdom. I wonder if everyone, or if anyone, wrestles with the giant pink baby of our fucked up coexistence. Would they bother to change a diaper, or lovingly coo at its initial fumblings with flatulence for an afternoon, let alone a measely fifteen minutes whilst I runs to da corner sto'...?
I used to think I was hurtling headlong into some sort of cataclysmic what ever the fuck, but boy...
Was I wrong?
I used to not have to rethink my thoughts in print, yet now I do. Was that last one really a question?
Wow. You know, I can't believe I let it all slide. I guess when it's gradual, you don't really notice the end result as hard.
And it helps the alternate reality your pride wants to remember to remain intact.
Imagine a future world where it all doesn't matter, all that makes you want to be a part of, be a working cog in the machinary spinning douchebaggery of...
It all dissipates, and then you wake to find you're still a babe in the woods.
And the horrifying story is even yet to be... uhhhh, beheld?
I truly understand how the true genius is never truly appreciated until well after the old ipso facto. I mean dead dead deadsky. Remember all those reports we used to have to do on Mozart and the other old wig wearing fools...
In the end they will all fade to nothingness as we all do in the end in the end in the end...
I want what this has turned into to end. I want the merriment to begin. I want the flagons to be filled, I want the confetti, I want the confetti...
I want a hero's return. I want the bards to recant earlier song with epic redemption of soul. I want to be the guy. I dream of walking among the masses and dealing out the judgement that they deserve. I dream the impossible dream. There are worse things, sadly enough, than the Rape of Nanking.
It is called the crime of nonchalance, the disregard...
Of all that is right and good.
I think the brightest stars burn for the longest time and give us a shitload of luminescence. The rest of us shine for awhile and then explode in a fiery explosion of explosive poo-ness.
I can't wait to reread this to myself and then forget it...
Nahhhhhhhhh......................
I know nothing of your life. I couldn't even presume to. I wish I was part of it. I hate that "another life" bullshit.
I also hate the old I wish I was your daddy but...
It'd be different anyway.
Wouldn't it?
In the end I'd win.
And you'd love me.
Didn't Hitler feel/think the same?
I'm truly living in the wild muthafuckin' west.

Apocalypsydoodle...

Ok then, folks. Messed around on some website and made myself into a zombie. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

 Then I did my daughter up. She was already wearing the helmet, so she had kind of an AD&D thing going on. Both of ours came out pretty good. And then there's this guy...

He was already a complete freakazoid before I put him through the wringer. Actually made him look even cooler than he was before, which was terrifying to behold...
Anyhoo, enough of that. After doing fuck all like this all morning, Cindi and I went to see This Is 40.
Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I'm going to have to admit it was a bit much. Could've been whittled down to an hour forty five minutes instead of two and a quarter. I think they chicked it out too much, and they needed more cameos besides Jason and the doctor. I wanted to see even a few seconds of Seth, anything. Where's Craig Robinson, the doorman from Knocked Up? So much more could've been done. I liked it, but they semi failed...
So, yay, this year is almost over. We didn't all die, or half of us end up craving the flesh of the other half of us. Vacation is almost over. Still Thursday, though, so back off. Jeepers...
What to do, what to do?
The internet is dead, by the way. All the fun places I used to go back when I once again got a sweeet new desktop in '05. Everything so kickass and full of endless possibilities, or at least until the next thing came along...
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Now I just... GAWD. I won't completely blame this on Facebook, but it's doing its best to finish 'er offskies.
So little to do, see, anymore. Overloaded on images of suffering and destruction, or kittens chasing lasers...
I pine for the 80's. Plus everything was supersized. Nowadays, it's just the fries and the drink. Something's fucked up with that...

Super Stupors...

Wow, not sure when the last time was that I actually posted. Been awhile, I know that. I just haven't been feeling it, or have nothing interesting to say.
Ups and downs, baby.
I've been seeing alot of movies. The Collection, The Hobbit, End of Watch, others. All kickass, especially The Hobbit.
Right now I'm still waiting/wondering on the promotion coming up. I hope I get it, but it'll be hell once I do. I'm hoping to get it, settle in nicely, and go back to life before all this stress.
Nahhhh, scratch that.
I would like for everything to be wayyyyyy better than that.
Not sure what that'd take to happen, though. I have some ideas...
Yet alas.
Alot of things swirling around in a mind that'd be better left swept clean.
Also, planning on hitting the gym hard after the New Year. I know, I say this alot. But...
I don't really stray too far from semi in shape. I eat healthy most of the time, and I don't lay around like a fat fuck. Anyhoo, enough about that.
Sad about the Newtown kids, but tired of all this bullshit about wanting to take away all the decent peoples' guns. Check out the statistics, people. Places where good, honest folks can get them have less bad shit going on. Control, control, control. Couldn't be happy with things like keeping us filthy smokers outside with the trash, or limiting how much soda we can quaff down in one serving...
We are headed down a path strewn heartily with dogshit landmines. Not Chihuahua poo either, I'm talking Great Dane piles of steaming poo-ness. I also love how everyone who voted for Obama are still patting themselves smugly on their own backsides like they saved the world from certain doomage.
Puh-lease.
It'd be nice if people would pull together for greater things than this. Then again, if we didn't have such fine, upstanding celebrities like Angelina Jolie to usher in a new age of caring and understanding...
Where would we be?
Nothing like seeing her adopt a few rugrats, look down her nose at us for not giving everything we own to feeding the world's starving children, and then showing up to Hollywood crap in duds that could feed hundreds of people... for months!
Hell, I could probably get out of the red and well into the black with just her accesories alone.
The world is a fucked up place and I'm having a hard time feeling any of the love. It all feels phony to me.
The only difference between me and them is that I'm not deluding myself.
Guess it makes most feel better about themselves.
Distractions.
Makes a guy wish he could go catatonic.
Just please let someone come by and play with my ding dong from time to time...

Dickhead: Ground Zero...

 Hey guys. On pins and needles, eh?
I have no idea when the last time I posted, I'm guessing last monthish. Voted. My guy lost. Oh wellz.
Been working mein ass off. Trying to think of movies I've seen. Hmmm...
Other than Silent Hill and Paranorman, not much.
Erm, just...

Been trying to jolt an urge for fitness into my body. Eating right, mostly lentils, salads with alot of different stuffs in them, and nothing bad as much as possible. Totally on it, ready to be all svelte in this bitch.
Also, loving the new season of Walking Dead. That show would've made me jizz myself to undeath as a kid. Amazingly enough, no one I know even watches it. And that's fucked up.
Luckily, I have a butt ton of online freakazoids to rarely rub elbows with. I mostly just lurk and devour spoilers and technical FX jargon. I'm actually watching Talking Dead as we speak/write.
I wouldn't really say Chris Hardwick's stand up that premiered last weekend is any good. Sucked, actually.
We get it, you're a nerd. I''d probably like you more if you'd give up that Harry Potter shit.
Anyhoo, gotta puff puff pass that shit back to myself now...
Toodles.

With a Rebel Yell I Endorse This Message...

 Nice tig ol' bitties. Sorry I haven't posted much in the last month no one. Anyone?
Not much going on other than the regular constant inner turmoil. Wah wah, boo frickety hoo, lol.
Nahh, I'm ok. There just isn't much going on than going to work, sleeping, and waiting for the election to be over and for Obama to please, please, please not be President again.

 You know, if he died, then idiot Biden would be in charge. That would suck. The only time the guy doesn't gaffe is when he's stolen someone else's words...
I'm just ready for it to be over and for the Koolaid drinkers to die down with their nutzoid rants on Facebook.
Ugh, I gave up arguing anything with them a long time ago. Pointless...

Here's my pick for a winning ticket: Billy Idol and Vice President Steve Stevens. Tell me that wouldn't be the shit. Well, you could, but you'd a dirty, low down lying dog.
Anyhoo, saw Silent Hill last night. The plot was a bit confusing, but the cinematography is sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.
I also love the nurses, deadly bitches they were...
I'm on vacation this week, which is almost over.
Puff puff pass nugga.
If you like Romney please vote.
If you're a masochistic moron with a Koolaid moustache from blowing the giant cartoonish "pitcher of foul lies", then please feel free to sit in your car in the garage with the engine running and the door closed.
Listen to some NPR...

The Reverse Sleepy Gonzalez...

Wow, another lost post? WTF was I on anyway?!?



Cryptic enough, isn't it all? Reverse, reverse!!! Now Charlie Brown...

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, or deadens you a little more to the pain. Experience is an anesthetic, and knowledge a crux. To be blissfully numb to it all like the rest of you. I will soon blossom, or my wings will be torn from me. As usual...

I'm starting to believe I was meant to fail, to come crashing down, again and again. I have felt like I do since I was able to feel. Or remember...

I want to evolve, or better yet, DEVOLVE. The Soft Parade has now begun. Listen to the engines hum. People out to have some fun. Cobra on my left...

Leopard on my right, yeah. Out of sight, the lights are getting brighter.

Tropic corridor, tropic pleasure, what god has this brought to this mild equator.?

We need something to get us through, yeah come on!!!

Calling on the dogs.

Unfortunately, there are still a few animals, left out in the yard, and it's getting harder...

to decide. Strangers...

Collage Fromage Homage...

Wow, something I guess I didn't post from way back in the wayyyyy back. Maybe I did. Who da fuck knows?
Another medley of pictures lurking in the void. Uncle Jimbo surfaces again to take control of the nether regions using only his nether regions. Ronbone and Bobo can only watch in eager titillation.
"And anticipation..."
Of what is to come when the transformation and the coronation are complete!!! The mark of JIMBO will be upon us all by then.
"Let the Baptism of Jism begin!!!"
Yet there is another who could stop this. Would he not come forth and claim his more rightful and benevolent place among the heavens? He is of the blood of Bobo, turtlekin, and yet to be revealed in this storyline.
But soon the gears will begin to turn, setting off the mechanism for which will bring in a new era, one of wonderful tragedy and gleeful melancholy. The sound of the bones of the unworthy crunching underfoot will be sweet music to behold. A darkness will fall as to dampen even the most abundantly fueled flame.
"The Battle of Brothers has begun!!!"

Feed, You Must...

 Hi, everyone and no one...
Checking in. Let's see: the world is a giant shit sandwich and I continue to nom nom on them on a daily basis. Uhhhhh, tired alot lately. Irritable. Moody. Whiny bitch.
Anyhoo, on episode 16 or 17 of Scrubs. Probably won't get any more done since today I'm just not feeling it. Dying to see the new episode of Walking Dead...

Mmmmmmm, flesh. I'm sick of people always saying/thinking that zombies crave brains in particular. It's all about the flesh and bone...
Admittedly, I could live with a zombie apocalypse. As long as I could get to my loved ones first, and spirit them away to somewhere safer. My luck I'd get bit right out of the gate. Or not...
As far as shooting them, no problemo. I could give a flying fuck if I knew them before. Family would suck, though. Not sure how I'd fare. Personally, I'd want to come back and wander the planet if I screw the pooch and get turned. I mean... why not?!?
I've told my kid that if I died, unless I'm going to be a danger to her, then just let me somewhat live.
It'd be cool to see how far I got. Would I just stick to the old haunts, or would I/could I end up in a totally different part of the world?
Questions and queries and yodas and shit...
You know, I used to write poetry. That's like saying, "Did you know I used to be gay?"
Ha!
Most of it was drivel. I tend to speaketh in ten dollar words, or just end up berating GAWD for my own failings. These days, I can't even finish a sentence before I go back and erase it from my memory banks forever. I wonder how much of his own poetry Jim Morrison recorded vocally. The rest of the gang should do another album of that schnizz.
The bomb diggity, it was...

You're Probably Wondering Why I'm Here...

 And so am I, so am I.
Listening to Frank Zappa interviews from over the years, mainly extremely long ones where he really lets loose. Too bad most of the interviewers had no clue who they were even dealing with. Stupid questions for a man above most of what got flung his direction. ..
Were I given the chance to interview him, I'd need some time to not only compose myself, but not foolishly squander our time together. I wonder how he'd get along with today's Johnny Rotten, or for the old one for that matter.
Either way, he'd have been an awesome President methinketh...

Gotta respect the guy, though I personally love the shit out of him myself. Rare bird, a true genius.
We haven't had anyone of his caliber for a few decades. Nowadays, people worship a goofy twat like Lady Gaga with her meat dress, or whatever the fuck it twere...
Weehaw, Obama versus Romney in a battle of epic flippity flop floop. Who cares, though I know who I'm voting for personally...
Anyhoo, gettin' the schwoop schwoop on right now.
Ok, just came back from watching a little of the debate. I wish Frank was there to mop the floor with whoever, even easily both at the same time. So now back to your regular programming of cheese and whine.
The well is now officially dry.

Scrub-A-Dub-Dub-Step...

 Deep in thought? Fashionably pensive?
Nahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...
Deciding between sliders and somewhere that has tacos on their all you can eat buffet?
Perhaps, but not really. More likely, I'm not thinking at all. Or trying not to...

I will preface my next insightful comments by saying this picture of Frank was taken without his permission. Can't a dirty freak take a shit in peace? So anyhoo...
What I'm trying to say is that no matter how hard I might try to look like the first picture of Mr. Thinker, I end up looking like crap taking crap.
Of course, I'm not saying Frank is crap. You know what I'm saying...
I want an island, or somewhere deep in Montana, where I can raise me a crop o' dental floss.
I will only communicate with the masses via Skype, or whatever tickles my fantasy.
Until I am no longer at odds with the rest of the world...
Then would I return to claim my throne.
The Prince of Lies...
King of Nothing...
Fool.

I often wonder if I am just that. Then delusions of grandeur kick in. That's what they feel like after awhile, but are they?
I find it hard to believe it is ME all the time.

I saw Total Recall this weekend. It was surprisingly good, just minus the awesome cheese of Arnold Schwartzenblahblah. Also surprising is that I'd recommend it, very actiony...
Also saw The Possession, which sucked balls. If you suck balls metaphorically, then this is for you.

Other than that, just hanging in there. Fighting the demons in my head; sometimes winning, sometimes not so much. All you can do is keep punching. Right now, for some reason, everything I type just isn't working for me. You ever get that feeling? Just...
Nothing. Nothing to share, nothing of worth anyway.
Writer's block!!!
Wish it was contagious, and I had a sweet DeLorean that time traveled, I'd go back in time and give Stephen King a deadly dose of it.
Sorry, I'm rereading It. I find myself skimming the silly drivel he lays on pretty thick. I bet he was a complete doof. Nobody probably liked him, and he probably talked to himself, wishing bad things on them. Maybe Carrie is a wishful autobiography, and he'd love to be the Prom Queen, or was it homecoming? I don't remember...
I'm just saying he's not even 1% of all the praise heaped on him. He just wrote alot of dirty words, threw in some wishful sex, and BOOM...
Young teens hanging on his every word. Genius, I'll admit, but in the end kind of dumbs down a few generations in the process. Clive Barker blows him away. I love Cabal.
Anyway, enough rambling. I'm watching Scrubs with my kid and we are on episode 14 of season 1, a very long way to go. I will keep up the tally as I post later. We might even eventually get all the way through them.
It's an ok show, I'm not enthralled by it, but it's decently watchable so far...

RAWR...

Howdy folks...
Saw Resident Evil movie, can't remember the complete title, just that it's the fifth piece of shit so far.
The last one actually had some redeeming qualities, but this one is more than a slap in the face. It has disemboweled RE, bled it dry, buried it, dug it back up and pissed on it, then buried it upside down...
The only way you could see it was in 3D, which is total bullshit, but a good way to get serious bucks before word gets out how shitty it actually is/was.
Please reboot with a new director/writer/no Mila Jahovah's Whatever-the-fuck-it-is. Give it to someone who truly loves this enough to be able to balance being true to the material without cheesing it out. When I saw their Leon, I was immediately repulsed. Flabbergasted. Livid. Fucking pissed.
I still play RE4 on a regular basis, and would play RE2 if I could find the disc. Leon is the king.
PLEASE REBOOT NOW.
I would be completely happy with an animated film in 3D. Do it up like RE4's creepy look.
Give it to Romero, but make him stick to the source material and not try to put some "message" in there.
I'd love to see it all done properly. But then again, I'd love someone to redo Battlefield Earth the way it should be: as a trilogy, with oodles of moolah to pour into it. Love that book. Too bad that Scientology is a bunch of hokey crap.
Not much is going on. Work, sleep. Wishing the zombie apocalypse would hurry up and pop. One more month until Walking Dead. Andale.
Anyway, nothing clever to say today. Going to watch Scrubs and make a sandwich.
That is all.

Looking a Gift Horse in the Mouth...

 A new computer...
A gift?
I wish, but no. Unfortunately, I had to get this for a short time from some crap rental place. It'll go back when I can afford a sweeet new desktop. Might be awhile, but it will be mein...
Oh yes, it will be mein.

Instead, the gift will be this post to you. The best part is no one can return it, you can only move on after seeing it. So I guess it could be a gift or a curse.
Question: Is it better to laugh whilst dying, or to live whilst crying?
I went to a meeting today and heard the first part and added the last. I haven't been drinking, but I still go from time to time for a little meditation time. It's an hour away from the everyday bullshit that's all for me.
Anyhoo...
Hey, where'd that horse go to...?
By the way, MU played hard against Georgia today in their SEC opener in foofoo ball. They played three great quarters, then gave up in the fourth. I'm crushed.

May the GAWDS Smile Upon Thee...

So I'm driving to pick my daughter up from school today and...
I'm waiting to make a left turn behind some moron who is too busy texting to see the green arrow. The guy opposite us wants to make a right but said moron finally decides to go. The right turn guy wants to butt in front of me, but I glare at him as I make my turn first. I've also got the dance mix to Out of Touch by Hall and Oates blaring, which they start doing a crazy dance to behind me, swerving all over the road as they continue to frug away...
I give them the finger. Now I make a right turn with them behind me, but when I do I make sure they can't immediately pass me and give me the finger. Now we are in a two lane thangie which merges into one down the road further down the road. I decide to continue not letting them pass me and deny their retaliatory naughty finger...
I'm doing 45 now in a 35 leading up to the merge. They are closing fast, but they aren't going to pull it off before the merge. And that's when I see the po po...
I'm figuring the jig is up, and I'm busted. But at the last second, the two inbreds behind me whip around me well after it's turned into a one lane dealie. They obviously did not see the fuzz, and instead of tagging me, he goes around me and immediately pulls them over...
I wave to them as I pass by, with windows open so's they can hear my guffaws of glee.
Thank you, kharma.

HA!!!

I was going through my old unposted drafts and found this.
WTF am I looking at?!?
Probably my overblown ego rising into the stratosphere...

WHAT A MAROON.

Sombrero and all...

bLOOER tHAN A sMURF'S tAINT...

 I guess I screwed the pooch, as far as posting bunches for August. I was also off last week for a week long recovery after my 40th birthday. Yay for me, right?
Sometimes I think I'm insane, sometimes methinks you are all guilty as charged instead. Sometimes I'm totally ready to shirk the comforting arm melancholia drapes round my neck, much like ye olde ever tightening noose, yet other times I'm readily spotted wallowing in that very same mire...
Doing the backstroke, and stroking my own seemingly chaotic selfdom...

I feel aimless, foolishly waiting on another random calamity, a... a...
Ehhhh, who do I think am fooling, anyway?
I wish I could pour everything inside me onto a canvas, so as to display myself as a portrait for you to peruse.
Artistically visceral...
To hone in on the principle...
Pistols at dawn...
'til the night sky is gone.

I give up. Go see Hit and Run, if you haven't. Dax and Kristen Bell are like some fairy tale love story that definitely translates into perfect onscreen chemistry. Too bad real life isn't like that. Instead it is full of dark fantasy that eats away at your soul, bit by decomposing bit...
Lolz.
How can you make yourself once again love the magic trick, even after you've seen how it is truly done and no longer amazing?
Is there CPR for the soul, or do I need those little heart paddle thingies George Clooney used to use?
This world is a sea of unfairness. The question is...
Am I a shark, or a guppy?
I look at people, and I wonder if they live in constant internal turmoil as I do.
I'm not like this all the time, by the way. It just seems like I only post/vent here when I am.
I need to start posting vlogs on here, so I can ramble easier.
Gotta lose about... ten more... pounds first. Trying to get svelte up in this bitch.
RECANIZE.

Who Dat?

 So, after all, there was not one kind of Strife alone, but all over the earth there are two. As for the one, a man would praise her when he came to understand her; but the other is blameworthy: and they are wholly different in nature.

For one fosters evil war and battle, being cruel: her no man loves; but perforce, through the will of the deathless gods, men pay harsh Strife her honour due.

Cold. Unforgiving. A perfect name for the dwarf planet that knocked Pluto from its full planetary status. Sometimes nearer, sometimes three times farther away than Pluto. Elliptical. Barren and fruitless in the end.
But still...
A tiny sparkle in our telescopes. A light at the end of the tunnel, or a wasteful expedition towards an unobtainable goal?
A one way ticket to the pipe dream of your choice more likely...
But then again, possibly...
An otherworldly peak to unfurl flags to, to stake claim and lay law upon...
And conquer, for no reason other than just that: to conquer.
To trample and maim, to darken the doorstep of...
To further corrupt the orbit of its chaotic nature...
And hasten its fatal collision with Pluto.
Seemingly on a whim, no less. But, alas, with purpose all the same.
Fervor gives way to gnashed teeth, perspiration lubricates the rusty gears to motion...
But for what?
Vaporization and existence revoked.
Better than never having been, but less than having fully blossomed into final blissful splendor.
Resentful, but beholden to the toehold that was almost achieved...
Yet is nothing but a scratch upon the illuminated countenance of a victorious maiden enamored with the lifeblood of the many corpses strewn upon the battlefield of our short time together.

The bereavement is fleeting, and the throb is dulled to a pulsing chill that drains into unnoticeable fade to black.
It was all a dream of things that never happened, things we repelled ourselves from, insulated.
A spark indeed...
A Morrison-esque ode to the spark that ignited the flame that consumed us in whole.
An ode to the strife of us that dare only to dare without the flint to ignite without an outside flint...
The daftest of the daft...
The kingliest of the fallen fool...
Your salvation, too.
An almost...
A should've been.
A casualty of wars that were beyond the grasp of what was intended, and what was hoped for.
A resurrection of a thing long thought to be dead, he was.
A light switch that was turned back on against its will, yet with total permission.
Go crazy...
Go insane...
Vault the hurdles of your inquisitively, but sheltered nature, yet succumb...
To the deep southern drawl of my...

My...
My...
My...
It is almost as if a woman wants to stifle the things a man stands for. A lucky man is the one that meets his match: a woman that speaks her mizzind...

In The Wink of a Young Girl's Eye...

 There is a time in everyone's life when they've decided it's time to call it a day.
"Goodbye, cruel world!!!" they'd say...
"Toodle-oo muthafuckas, can't stay!!!"
But when the time finally comes, to gives it your alls,
You fumble, and falter...
You coward, you have no balls.

 Unable to find the backbone to do the jerb yourself, you decide to delve into the seedy world of assisted suicide, to no avail...
What can you do? Many of us bear the Elric gene/curse to walk endlessly until the end of days...
Until the end. Why do we do this? This is not what we signed up for. We wanted nothing more than to bask in the glory of our victories, our day atop the shoulders of our peers as they slap our backs wholeheartedly...

Ahhhh, the glory days, that was all we wanted in the end. For them to never end, for them to never fade, for the newness of it to ever wear off...
To stave off the cold shroud of blackness that looms nearer and nearer, waiting for us to do the James Brown kneeldown so's he can envelop us in the chill of blinding despair. To wipe our feverish brow...
And to close our eyes for the last time. Not in death, but in prayer...
To ears that do not hear, and eyes that do not see.
In a realm that does not care for you, and definitely not for me.

Time to go watch some more ALF. I wish he was real, or that the tables were turned and it was I that lived on his planet with his peoples. I wouldn't eat cat, but I'd be down with the hunt.

Echoes of the Past...

My beloved ferret, Molly Echo, died between last night and this morning sometime. I really miss her right now. I feel bad because last night she was trying to get me to give her some outside time, and I was feeling too lazy to chase her down. Being ferretlike myself, it was always hard to find myself wanting to do anything other than curl up into a tight enough ball that the world's bullshit couldn't get in. She always wanted out. Everytime I'd walk by her cage, if she was awake, she'd immediately climb the rungs closest to me. She wasn't very well litterbox trained, but I'd take her out when I got home from work and put her in my room with me while I played video games. She'd always lick my feet, and my knees, and then frolic off to see what kind of treasures and mysteries she'd possibly uncover.
I know I could get another, but my heart is just not into it. I doubt I would/could get another without a much larger cage and wayyyy more free time to give them the affection they deserve. And I think it'd be better to get more than one, so they could keep each other company at other times. Molly really wasn't very social, like other ferrets. The person I got her from was neglectful in so many ways. When I first got her home, she ran loose. Then I realized that she just shit willy nilly all over the house and got her a cage. She never seemed to like it, but what else could I do?
I just wish maybe I'd taken her out more, gave her more loving squeezes than I did, anything. Everything.
Now she is gone. I will never again feel her kisses. Her licks. Even her claws in the shower, trying to climb my legs to get away from the water...
Goodbye, Molly. I did love you, and I'm going to miss the hell out of you. This is the 9/11 of all Sundays.