Bookmark and Share

Friday, April 30, 2010

Unspoken words.

Ever wonder what your thoughts would say if they were given the chance? Remember those belched hickups inside your head? What stories of grandure would they indulge in if someone came and sat beside them for an evening?

A lofty tale perhaps?

Maybe they would speak of journey through the endless expanse of the atom. Their movement lost under the light of an electronic star shifting in its quantum orbit.

Communicability under duress.

You are broken.

Tits and ass. Covered in cum. A body convulses in pleasure as juices flow from her mouth waiting to be caught in the taste of another. The girl begins to shiver as her legs wrap around the waist of her joy. Her moans escape in soft breaths, as the unspoken conversations tangle in her lovers benign plea.

More she whispers. More.

Geriatric Hospitals.

I feel old. Incredibly old. Its like there is this hourglass in my head dripping sand into an endless expanse. Infinite grains slipping away on some polished metal glass only to be then left unnoticed in the dunes below.

A quiet solitude left un-noticed.

Perhaps, in our heads there resides some long forgotten civilization. A place of better times covered in the thicket of the wet shit of today. Once in a while we might find the appropriate shovel and dig hard until we reach metal. It is then, I suggest that the sound reverberates of the clang and cascades down our bodies filling our eyes with the spirals we so desperately crave.

The feeling never lasts though. We always lift our tool away and sigh, our old knees giving way to cracked whispers which begin their escape once again,

Life...I saw.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Dear Kathy.

Im sorry.

I wept when you told me. I felt the darkness embrace my soul while my long tendriled tips began to reach out to choke your enemies throats. I want to murder them Kathy, I do.

I want to knaw my teeth on their soft bony throats while dark excrement pours into their beady eyes. I want to feel their soft, faint beating hearts give way to my hands squeeze. All their lifes breath caught in between my fingertip.

They destroyed your body and heart. They pillaged and maimed your burned spark. A life you lost under the gullet of man while the unanswered screams of the young child reverberated in the empty silence.

And it was only tonight that I heard your soft whimpered echo bathed heavy in the fires of Hell. You are woman's anguish lost in the scars of man.

But I tell you now, as I stride through these hallowed hallways that I hear them chant your name. Quiet woman, too afraid to speak now pulse their lips in cadenced whisper.

Wonder Woman, wonder of my life...

You are strength unparalleled with stride unmatched. You are AMAZON.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

This man is a brilliant man.

What Modern Art should be re-named after.

Imaginary Girl

Monday, April 19, 2010

Egotistical: A self-facination.

I started to write something about my own ego and my aspiring megalomania but then I decided that would be entirely too boring and self-convoluted. So instead, lets talk about chia pets. And how absolutely RETARDED they are.

Look, I don't care who you are but NO-ONE who maintains any semblance of sanity introduces a clay fucking dog sprouting green hair into their lives through any willful or conscious act.

I maintain, that anyone who actually buys one of these fuckers has to be either:

a) Drunk.
b) Under threat of violent act.


c) Incredibly high.

Infact in some cultures, green sprouted grass on the surface of any skin is often seen as a sign of strong bacterial growth looking for a way to chew your limbs off. Think about that for a second. You bought a fucking INFECTION to sit nonchalantly by your window side. Disgusting.

All in all, you chia pet "lovers" (more like losers really) need to get your lives together and start to invest in a higher grade potted plant.

Fucking nerds in this country.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

I like clothes.

I own alot of them, but while pondering my wardrobe I can't help but think Im stuck in some weird time loop.
Its like im stuck between the highschool hoody phase and the gentleman with too few nice t-shirts and pants.

In conclusion: I plan to be very naked this summer.


My mind is a glass filled chamber reflecting in all that is bright. Energy and information all bouncing off each other in an endless cycle condensing into light. It is at times like these that I think with as little power assumed as I can.

what are we?

A species. of what?

Of hope? Always organic beings fueled by the need to know more? Hope in knowing that there is more? An endless universe waiting for our becon call?
A people so intent in some unknown labor of love that their own death seemed the only possible. A loves tale lived in irony among the high horses waiting to be kicked under.

- Rambles.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Sunday, April 11, 2010

i love life.


Friday, April 9, 2010


Webster defines megalomania as the following:

1 : a mania for great or grandiose performance
2 : a delusional mental disorder that is marked by feelings of personal omnipotence and grandeur.

A fun disorder when when you get the hang of it really.
Id assume at least. >.>

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Collateral Damage.

Baghdad: Yesterday, leaked classified video of an American chopper gunning down what appeared to be armed soldiers was released to the general public via electronic news agent Wikileaks. According to this previously encrypted video, the viewer watches as several men walk by buildings carrying what appears to be AK47’s and 1 RPG based launcher. This is watched through a high magnification lens mounted upon an afloat Apache flying some 800 meters away. As several seconds go by, we hear communication being barked between the lead chopper “Bushmaster” and other identified companies both on ground and air.

Soon, to dismiss the threat of any potential RPG attack, the lead chopper opens fire upon approximately 9 men using the mounted 30mm gun cannon. After a barrage of gunfire and deaths we watch as the helicopter circles for several minutes until an unidentified van arrives with now known, 4 individuals, two of which were children under the age of 10. A man then exists the van and drags the injured body of a man towards the vehicle.

The Apache then fires again, annihilating the van and all its occupants.

As we now find out, the men shot and killed were not Iraqi insurgents but 2 Reuters reporters and their entourage trying to capture footage for journalistic purposes. This was assumed and confirmed by their press credentials and the long lensed camera, mistaken for the previously mentioned RPG. Thus we see unintentional friendly fire within a quarantined war-zone.

According to US military assessment policy, the killings were justified under the rules of engagement and the soldiers acted under accordance with these principles as seen by these guidelines:

‘If you can identify — positively identify — an Iraqi formation and it’s coming at you, you kill it. You take it out. You do not shoot to wound,’” Lt. Gen. James Conway,

Some say, a fair engagement protocol considering the level of threat issued against these men and women during the height of extremely violent urban warfare. These soldiers assumed and made split second decisions, under strong psychological duress, against to what they perceived to be enemy insurgents. Several men, crouched by the corner of a building with what LOOKED to be an RPG in hand staring at floating choppers.

A horrendous mistake perhaps, but still actions justified under the act of self-preservation.

However, my qualm lies within the actions addressed unto the van soon after. The members who existed the vehicle did not appear to have any weapons on their body and were engaged in humanitarian action; As seen by the dragging of wounded to safety.

Nevertheless, the members of the choppers still felt it necessary to release weapons unto these medics. Why they chose to do so still boggles my mind. Could not wait and follow the van so that ground troops could intercept them? Why open fire on a retreating party? There was NO volley of engagement on ANY troop, so why eliminate a non-immediate threat this way?

I realize that the Rules of Engagement are often broad and necessarily so considering the amount of variables existent in wars such as these. But can this gray matter survive? Look, stray bullets I can understand, as I can misfire and garbled misunderstood orders. But this? Levying a target scope upon a man dragging a wounded body to safety?

Perhaps it is just war I fail to grasp.

Who is to blame for this? Should there be anyone? Are these soldiers, who by duty have to follow orders, the ones who take the hit? What about the commanding officers who issued these orders? What about the lawyers and gov’t officials who drafted these engagement procedures? What about the training regime that every soldier in the military goes through?

Do we need a scapegoat? Or just simple accountability? What type of accountability then? Forget who, but WHAT IS TO BLAME?

And they said we were a generation who just didn’t care. Fuck you.

Among those believed to have been killed in that attack were Reuters photographer Namir Noor-Eldeen, 22, and his driver Saeed Chmagh, 40.

Peace and One.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

In 1950 we were a planet of 3 billion people.

60 years later we are topping 8.

That's a growth of 260%. That's 5 thousand million more bodies walking this planet. Think, 5 BILLION more squishy brains trying to co-ordinate some semblance of existence on this blue rock. Think, 8 hundred thousand million people living together.

What will happen to us as we age? Are we so infantile in our understanding of civilization that waiting on the earth is all we can do? Is talking to each others brain the only option? Will we be FORCED to become telepathic?

I wish I could find a wiki for the future.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Pretty little Pink Ribbon.

There she sat, my pretty little pink ribbon.

Just out of reach, you dangled precariously out onto the edge of my blade,
Unknown in the forces which within you lay.
How could you know my pretty little pink ribbon?

How could you fathom,
the lines which crisscrossed your mind?

I saw signs in the shadows, glowed embers in the stones while their brittle sticks began to break my hallowed bones.

And while these marked shutters withered underneath your spell,
I saw the hungry bleached skeletons spit their;
Spin. Drop. Spirals, out underneath your chest.

Holy girl they stuttered...Where art thou?


DreamHost codes