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At first I could hardly feel it. Just a small grain inside of my body. At first I thought it would help. A symbiotic relationship. At first I thought it was fine. The cancer. Growing deep deep inside of me. And me, thinking it was fine. Thinking it was good. Let it get into my spine. Into my brain. Into my heart. It fooled me. It told me it would go away, but I wanted it to stay. I thought it was good. It thought I couldn't live without it inside of me. So I let it grow. Let it intertwine with my mind and my heart. Then I started to get sick. I started dying. It was killing me. It loved killing me. It was emotionless, empty, heartless, cold. But I let it stay. I thought if I cut it out, I wouldn't be able to live. So I kept it. I let it grow and grow and tell my mind and my heart lies. Then I realized what it was doing. How much it was hurting me. How what would happen if I removed it would be nothing compared to what it was doing to me now. So I took a scalpel, and I carved it out of myself. Out of my brain, out of my heart, out of my body. It hurt. But now there was a hollow space inside me. A space where it used to reside. An emptiness. I could see clearly, but I could feel nothing. It had broken my heart and my mind for far too long. And with my new, clear vision, I looked around. And I saw that cancer inhabiting people that I used to love. People that the cancer stole from me. Growing inside them. Getting into their minds. Their hearts. Am I the only one who can see? Will they be fooled as well? Will they let it kill them?
 WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:17pm · 0 Comments |
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Pressure is applied to the trigger. Propane jets out the nozzle. A spark. The flame's long tendrils leap out into the world. Touching, feeling. Spreading. The pages are the first to go. The fingers run themselves along each letter, each word, each sentence, each paragraph, each chapter, each story, disintegrating each one as it passes. Knowledge is erased. Erased by the bright, hot fingers. They explore farther. Each story falling apart in it's grasp. It reaches father. Feeling the floors, feeling the walls. Scorching. The walls grow weak. The floors start to buckle. A crack. Tumbling tumbling, down. What was once strong. What was once a home. What was once full of life. Is now dead. A pile of ash. A black, powdery reminder of what used to be. The fingers still grasping, but running out of things to feel. The wind picks up some of the ash. Carries it down past the other homes. Telling them that they could be just as easily destroyed. Up up up up. Wind rushing over a wing, a wing carrying a steel bird. The bird lays a steel egg mid flight. The egg is falling falling, down. No one is there to see. An egg filled with destruction and death. The bird flies away. The egg falls. Down down. Speeding up. But as it drops faster and faster, time slows. Slowing and slowing. The egg is floating in time. Savoring it's flight. Falling and falling. Getting closer to the homes. Filled with people. People oblivious to the egg hovering above their heads. People who would allow the fingers to feel the homes of others and not think twice. People who will soon be just as the stories. As the chapters. As the paragraphs. As the sentences. As the words. As the letter. The egg falls. Closer to the homes. Pushing the air out of it's path. Falling falling. Slowing time. The homes are below it. Kilometers turn to meters. Meters turn to centimeters. Centimeters turn to millimeters. Contact. The egg cracks open, unleashing the billions of fingers trapped inside it, looking to feel. Quiet. Emptiness. Knowledge is erased. Erased by the bright, hot fingers.
Inspired by Fahrenheit 451. ;D
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:16pm · 0 Comments |
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A scalpel separates flesh. One clean slice. Directly down the center of the chest. A sterile white room. A shiny steel bed. The blade glints in the surgical light. Cutting deeper and deeper into the cold grey torso. The body devoid of brightness. Devoid of life. The flesh breaks apart. The chest cracked open. Full of chunks of tissue that used to have a purpose. But are now just lumps of carbon. Decomposing. Wasting. The death seeping into the pores. The stench bursting out of the broken corpse. Filling the sterile white room with filth. The soul who used to inhabit the corpse is no more. Dissolving as the brain was starved of oxygen. Another soul. Dissolved into space. A soul that used to be full of life. Full of meaning. Full of love. And hope. And thoughts. Is now only remembered by a large mass of elements lying on a shiny steel bed. With a cracked open chest. It's stench filling the sterile white room.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:11pm · 0 Comments |
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The breath escaped her body in large gasps, then was quickly pulled back by inflating lungs. Her legs quickly sliced through the air. Dodging the trees as they flew past her thin body. She couldn't hold on much longer. The muscles in her chest and legs were burning. She could hardly breath at all. But she knew she couldn't stop. It was behind her. She had only seen it for a second. Only for a second. But she knew it was behind her. She could feel it slowly gaining on her as her body slowly failed. The dark night closes in on every side. The trees only appearing as dim outlines as she runs past them. She is dripping with sweat. Droplets of it falling onto the already damp leaves in the cool night. Branches rip holes in her thin tank top. The sharp twigs pull blood from her bare feet. But she doesn't notice the pain. There is only one thought in her mind. To get away. To get as far away as she can. She can feel the presence of the creature. It makes no sound as it chases it's prey. And even if it had, she wouldn't have been able to hear it. All she can hear is her heart beating in her ears. The breath passing in and out. She can't go on anymore. She forces her body beyond it's capacity. It wants to collapse, but she doesn't stop. She can't stop. Her heart feels like it's about to burst out of her chest. She knows it's gaining on her. She can feel it behind her. That quiet, dark creature. She knows it will catch up to her eventually. But she keeps running. The pain in her chest grows sharper and sharper. Her body is in too much agony for her mind to block out anymore. She lets the last portion of air escape her chest in a high pitched scream as her foot gets caught under a root and she tumbles to the ground.. The final thing she sees is the darkness pressing up all around her, swallowing her in it's sharp jaws.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:10pm · 0 Comments |
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I walk out my front door. I can see the leash trailing behind me. "He better not have ******** woke me up at 2 AM for nothing." I think as I stumble out the door, half asleep in my bathrobe.
I can hardly see out into the inky blackness. My mind screams for sleep. After getting into bed, shutting my eyes, and getting some well needed shut eye, that little ******** has to go and bark at my door as loud as he can.
Should have pissed when I took you out at 11, you little s**t. I walk down the small patch of grass in front of my apartment, the dewy grass geting my bare feet damp. I can hardly stand up I'm so goddamn tired.
The sidewalk is cool on my feet. I step on a rock. It's not too cold outside. Not too hot either. Pretty nice out actually. Maybe I'd actually enjoy it if I could keep my eyes open. I look up at the streetlight overhead.
It hurts my eyes. I look away and squint. A pinkish blue ghost of the light is burned into my retina. "Why did I ever ******** buy this mutt." I mumble to myself. Oh right, the dog. Where the ******** is the dog.
I look down at my hands. The leash is still gripped tight in one of them. But there's no dog attached. ********.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:07pm · 0 Comments |
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I cannot love. I've tried. I'm just incapable. Not that I don't want it. I want it very much. In fact, it takes up much of my thoughts. Just the feeling of waking up next to the person you love. Feeling their warmth in your arms. I want to experience that. I want to really feel, just feel. Feel something. Feel alive. Feel loved. Feel happy. But I can't. My feelings always come up blank. Maybe I'm just too young. My brain not yet fully developed. Or maybe I'm just empty. I can fake it, yes. I can pretend quite well. Pretend to love. Pretend to care. But I just feel nothing. To care about a person, to care about anything. I can't. I act like I do. I act compassionate and caring, when really, I'm not. Nothing really bothers me. It's practically impossible to annoy me, it's hard to make me angry. I can fake the other feeling, happiness, love, compassion. But not anger. Anger is a negative emotion. If I were to act angry, people would look at me negatively. I watch, I observe, I copy. A carbon replica of human emotion, or human action. Always conscious of how I'm acting, how I appear. Always afraid I'm doing something wrong. Afraid people will see through my facade. My mask. Afraid people will see me for what I am. A ghost, a fake, empty. Nothing outstanding about me. Just another number, another worthless, nameless face. Just a human. One of six million, seven hundred eighty three thousand, four hundred and twenty one. A speck that will be forgotten in a century. Immortality is impossible. Life is fleeting. Life is worthless. We are but a microscopic parasite on a small planet in the middle of a medium galaxy in the middle of infinity. It would be arrogant to think anything more of ourselves. But we do of course. And we have our emotions, and we live our lives, and we make the best of it. We must try to be happy for our few seconds on this planet. We must try to be alive. We must try. I must try.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:06pm · 0 Comments |
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The young boy stands in the field. His eyes full of hope and happiness. His soul bright and innocent. Not a care in the world. Love is all he knows. The grasses stir in the slight breeze. He feels it on his face and smiles. The sun shines down, illuminating his world, filling him with brightness. Nature intertwines with his mind as a peaceful and beautiful thing. Nothing can go wrong. All is right in his world.
The young boy stands in the room. His eyes full of hate and sorrow. His soul dark and empty. The grey, dead walls streaked with bright red blood. He wants to cry, but is unable. He wants to leave the hopeless, grey room. Run into the bright, peaceful field once again. But he can't. He could never defile such a bright and peaceful place with his shadowy heart. He has nothing left. No one to care for him. Not anymore. With that grey room, as soulless as he, mocking him with it's artificial red brightness. It is not real brightness. It is darker than anything.
The boy wakes up. Cold sweat drenches his clothing. He hasn't eaten a thing in days. He still feels the dark bright blood coating his hands. Can't remove it no matter how hard he washes. The sweat drips from his nose onto the dirty, dusty floor. His innocence lost to life. His innocence gone forever. He smiles. He looks at his hands coated in the dark bright blood. His smile grows larger. All is right in his world.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:05pm · 0 Comments |
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What is beauty? Beauty is what we as humans define as beautiful. Nice to look at. Pleasing to the eyes. But what exactly is it that gives something these qualities? Is it symmetry? Maybe in faces, but certainly not in art. Is it bright colors? No, black and white photographs are considered just as, if not more, beautiful than colored ones by some. What about attention to detail? Well you don't have much of that in faces, and it's lacking in some beautiful art. So what is it exactly that makes some paintings sell for millions and others for hardly anything? What is it that makes people that are supposedly beautiful treated much different than ugly people? Why must humans be so shallow as to not consider an ugly person as a mate? Are other species as fickle? Is it all just survival of the fittest? If that is so, then why are there any ugly people left? Is beauty really in the eye of the beholder? Does each one of us have an image in their mind of beautiful? Are all those images different? Humans are all different from one another, this is true. But why do we embrace some differences and shun others? How is any person any less human than you or I? What right do we have to treat anyone as lesser or inferior? We are all equal. We are all beautiful. We are all human.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:04pm · 0 Comments |
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The clouds hover high in the air. Looking down upon the world. Looking down upon everything that inhabits the sphere floating amongst many other spheres. All compromising something larger and larger. Getting larger for infinity. On the sphere, a cloud hovers. The air cools as darkness falls upon one side of the sphere. The molecules of water huddle together for warmth. Gravity grasps the huddling group with it's steady and constant pulling. The group conglomerating into a larger entity. A droplet of molecules. Small as an electron on one scale, large as the earth on another. The droplet slides past the cool air down onto the world it so shortly ago surveyed. Now becoming one with it. Becoming part of a larger entity once again. Only to be split up and forced together thousands of times more. Just one more piece of the whole entity. One single thing. Comprised of everything else that exists. Constantly changing, pulsing, breathing. A living entity. A lonesome entity. But maybe it's not alone. Maybe it too is a piece. A piece of one bigger entity. Forever growing. Forever shrinking. Forever everything.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:02pm · 0 Comments |
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A young woman sleeps in a hospital bed. Sleeping for two years. Dreaming. Alone in her dreams. Feeling nothing but despair and emptiness. The whole world empty except for her. In her deep sleep. Her dreams taking aways her soul. Stealing it to another world. A young man waits. Unaware of her slumber. Waiting. Hoping. Feeling just as empty and alone in a world filled with people. He has not forgotten her. In the two years of her sleep, his memories have only grown stronger. He loves her more than anything. And she loves him. Her thoughts of him the only thing keeping her alive in her desolate mirror world. The tower stretches above, reaching for the heavens. Rising above everything. Always far and unreachable, but always there. A reminder. A tower shared by both worlds. A girl staring at the tower, all alone. A boy, surrounded by people, staring at the tower, all alone. Their hearts shared in both worlds. Their hope keeping them both alive. Knowing that one day, they will be united once again. United as the tower falls. United as their hearts meet.
Inspired by "The Place Promised In Our Early Days."
It's a great movie. I suggest you watch it.
But pay attention, the plot is subtle and easy to miss. ;D
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:01pm · 0 Comments |
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They have a god. Not a god in the traditional sense. Their god is only a man. A man, who on a molecular scale is not different from them. A man who's only power is influence. There is nothing supernatural about this god. He is a horrid, terrible creature. He spews lies and filth to his disciples. And those who see through his lies, he enslaves. All he cares about is his own power. But he is only a man. How much power can a man truly have? He will die some day as well, and he will only be remembered as being a terrible thing. Immediately by others, not immediately by his disciples.They will not know the truth at first. Another god will step up and fill the current false deity's throne. But eventually one of these gods will be overthrown. And the disciples will be enlightened to their lies. They will see their god for what he truly is. A lie. Just a facade. Nothing about him that could even be considered good. But they will live on. Live on in oppression. Starving, dying, all for the wealth of their fake god. They will live not as humans, but as puppets. Slaves to their master. Slaves until their god is finally overthrown.
Written after reading an article about refugees from North Korea.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 08:00pm · 0 Comments |
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The cold, murky water opens under the dark sky. The moon shines off the dark water, slightly illuminating the black night. The water breaks under the weight suddenly falling on it. The cold water swallows it up. The blood rises slowly from the fresh hole blown in the weak flesh. It mingles with the water. The water seeps into his pores. Seeps into every opening it can find. Chilling from the inside. It seeps into the hole in his chest. The hole that is slowly leaking the life out of him. Deeper he sinks, being enveloped by the deep waters. He regains consciousness. He feels his lungs filled with the dark, cold water, freezing his core. He gasps for oxygen, as a reflex, but that only forces the water deeper inside of him. He feels the pain of his chest. Both the hole caused by a medium caliber bullet traveling at eight hundred and seventy one meters per second and the water filling lungs that can only breath air. The pain fills his body, a hot fire in the chilling depths. Simultaneously scorching and freezing his skin. He tries to scream, but the dark water swallows the waves of sound. His brain is filled with terror and pain. He can't think. His panic only causes him to swallow more of the liquid surrounding him. He has a fleeting moment of clarity then, nothing. The water envelops him. The lifeless body sinking slowly down, down. Any last pockets of air escape his body and bubble to the surface. The moon looks down upon the dark sea, and the night is silent once again.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 07:59pm · 0 Comments |
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I lie in the bed, completely motionless except for the slow and labored rising of my chest. Each breath resisting it's journey into my chest. Stinging the walls of my lungs and clogging my throat. A heavy feeling rises from my chest and becomes an itch in my throat. My body rushes to expel what it perceives to be there. The air shoots from my mouth like a bullet. It tears at my chest and the back of my mouth. So much pain from one little cough. I try to move my arm. The muscles grate against my flesh and bone. I stop trying. My mind feels trapped. The worthless body that holds it lying and hurting. I look at the white sheets of my bed. Some kind nurse was thoughtful enough to raise the head of my bed. I can now observe more than the ceiling of my cramped room. It's fairly sparse. A few chairs for visitors I will never get. A cross on the wall depicting a deity I no longer believe in. A bed side table with a cup of stagnant water and an off white telephone. My mouth is dry. I wish my body could reach the water. Maybe if I could call a nurse. But I don't want to bother them for something so trivial. I can deal with it. My heart pounds slowly in my chest. I feel every beat. Slow. Steady. I know that the moment the disease reaches it and it stops it's slow, steady ticking, I will be no more. I have accepted this. I am tired of walls covered in ugly patterns and empty chairs that remind me of how alone I am. I am ready. I am ready for the disease to take over.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 07:58pm · 0 Comments |
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So buddah was like, this dude, and he was like all royal and s**t. He lived in this ******** huge castle thing his entire ******** life. And he was all like, "s**t man, life is so ******** awesome. Everyone's life must be as ******** awesome as mine." So then one day some dude was like, "Yo *****, come visit me in my ******** castle." and buddha was all, "That sounds chill yo, I'll be ******** right over." So he got in one of his ******** slave drawn ******** Ferrari carts and drove the s**t over to the castle. But then he got into the town and he saw all these other dudes and how ******** shitty their lives were. So he got out of his ******** carriage thing and was like "What the ******** ******** you ******** ********? How the s**t can you live your lives all ******** awesome and s**t when these ******** niggas are all sick and dying and poor and s**t? What the ********, you guys are dicks. I'm ******** leaving. ********." Then he ******** left and walked the s**t around and got to know how ******** shitty people's lives were. Then he found a ******** fig tree, and he was all, "I'm gonna ******** sit under this ******** tree and ******** meditate and not ******** eat food except maybe some ******** figs." Then he just ******** sat there for like, 20 ******** years. Then he was all, "********, I ******** got it. People's lives suck so much because people ******** want s**t so much and s**t. Holy ********." Then he went around and told all the people why their lives sucked so ******** much, and they were all. ""******** buddha, you're ******** right. You're ******** awesome, we're gonna ******** worship the s**t out of you." The buddha was like, "What the ********? No, don't ******** worship me you ******** ********." Then they did anyway, and buddha was like the most ******** awesome thing ever and all those hot ******** asian people made a ******** religion out of that s**t.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! · Sun Jun 14, 2009 @ 07:55pm · 0 Comments |
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