Thursday, April 28, 2011

Enlightened (working title)

So the other day, I sat at my computer and started to type. This is what came out. There's more, but this is just the prologue to a novel I may possibly actually complete.

I am first aware of the cold. No introduction or gentle easing, just brutal cold that seems to envelope my entire body, seep into my pores and permeate my very mind. It is then I become aware of my nakedness. Opening my eyes, the brilliant cerulean of the dateless sky is meshed with gray undertones that give further evidence for the previous rain. Realizing I’m lying on my back, I quickly arise from the damp pavement and hurry to shield my nudity, wincing at the pain at the end of my tailbone. Once I’m covered however, my sense of exposure is suddenly overshadowed by the palpable feeling of utter loneliness. Upon glancing to my left and right, I see that I’m standing in the middle of a cracked blacktop road that stretches in both direction for miles that can’t be measured, accented by the periodic dashes of yellow, and surrounded by massive oak trees emerging from the luscious green grass, with leaves that splish…splash…onto the road. Combined with the bitter wind and total openness, I can think of nothing but how to get out. The sky’s emotionless hues only further the looming sense of being encaged in this world, as a rat in a maze.

Glancing around in all directions, it’s not long before a sinking deja vĂș develops. This place is not new to me, though minutes before I would have sworn that I’d never been here in my life. Wait…minutes before? Where was I, minutes before? What was I, minutes before? As if this all wasn’t enough, that old bastard Dread starts to creep in and whisper to me. There’s no one here, He says. Deny it you may, but you’re all alone again. But I refuse to accept that. Turning more 360s, my desperate gaze falls upon a house, amidst a clearing of trees and grass that I would’ve bet my life was not there earlier. Then again, I can’t be sure of much at all in this place, especially not my apparently failing memory.

The longer I stare at that house however, my thoughts concerning how I got here fade in importance when compared to what could be inside. Two stories made of rotting wood and siding, three out of four shattered windows on the front, and painted a color that was probably once a bold forest green but is now a peeling pistachio, its presence is far from appealing. But when a bone-chilling sweep of wind floods throughout every crevice and fold of my quickly numbing bare flesh, I make the decision to enter the house, if only for temporary shelter from the relentless cold. Taking a couple quick glances to check again for any sort of human activity, I hear a faint rustling in the trees to my right cut through the silence.

Snapping my head towards that direction like a bird (which, by the way, there are none of), I simultaneously dismiss it as wind and believe it to be my rescuer. “Hello?” I yell tentatively. Then hysterically, “Hello?! Please, someone answer me!” Unconsciously applying George Orwell’s concept of doublethink, I’m disappointed and not surprised at the same time. At this point, I’m not sure if another person would even be reassuring; I feel as if nothing could assure me in this terrible trench of despair I seem to have fallen into. Don’t get your hopes up sonny, you’re all alone. Alllll alooooone…I push Dread out of my thoughts and reassess my decision. Should I stay, naked and freezing in this God-forsaken length of road and wait for someone to come out, when they very well may never? Another torrent of icy breath combs through my hair, bathing my nakedness and seemingly urging me forward. Doing one last look-around before I do, I proceed to walk toward the house.

Though I suppose the temperature and initial shock must’ve numbed my observational skills, I found it startling that I failed to notice one particular detail of the house; within a five to six yard radius around it, not a single thing is growing. As I approach the building, I notice that the living grass forms a perfect circle around the structure, abruptly cut off by an invisible line of infertility. Not one blade of grass, not one measly dandelion even dares to rear its head from below the topsoil. This observation deeply troubles me, though I suppose it can easily be explained with use of pesticides and other such chemicals. Dread, acting as my voice of reason, tells me that it’s got to be more than that, and you know it. I do know it, and that’s what scares me. Regardless, I only lengthen my stride and continue toward the house.

Feet sore and bleeding from treading unprotected on the pavement, the grass, softened by rain, is the only relief I feel I’ll get for a long time. You’re sure you wanna do this, are you? I silence Dread again, though His question rings through my head. You’re sure you wanna do this? Am I? The answer is an indubitable, resounding “NO”, but as I see it, there are no better options. This debating inside me seems to have quickened my pace, because now I’m staring at the front door, and feeling as if Dread’s kicking down mine. I pause, muster up all of my remaining courage, and turn the knob.

Comments, reviews, etc. are welcome.

Monday, April 25, 2011


Happy late Easter.
In celebration of this fine holiday, the topic today: Christianity.

*For the record: this is no attempt to Convert anyone to my religion. Though it'd be great if you did, do not feel as if I am forcing anything upon you, because I am not all. Thank you*

Don't worry, I'm not going to bash Christians. Most of them anyway, mainly because I happen to be one of those Christians. I don't have a problem with Christianity in general anyway. Some small logistics are a little confusing, but overall I'd say I've got the hang of it. I know for sure I could tell you more about the bible than your preacher could, especially if you're Catholic. Not boasting, simply stating what I know.

I was/am being raised in a Christian household. Father was a minister, mother sings in the choir (but I refuse to spoil this blog with talk of her), and I've been in the church my whole life. Though I believe in Christianity, I have a problem with the church, in general. Not mine though; my church kicks arse. Though I beleieve the bible to be true, the indoctrination from such an early age bothers me at times. So many times, if I ask someone why they partake in what religion they do, the answer is "I was born into it". Not neccessarily a bad thing, but if you don't know anything about religion other than your own, you are a drone; simply participating in a religion because it's all you know. You have blind faith, which is not very strong at all. Now as for me, the proof lies in simple things. Evangelists healing people with tumors and deformities (I had the opportunity to see Benny Hinn once, and it was quite the experience), for one. I saw people pushing their own wheelchairs out of that building, because they didn't need them anymore. Crooked legs becoming straight, tumors shriveling up and dissapearing, and countless other miracles. Now, either it's all part of some mass conspiracy, in which they must have loads of money for special effects, of it's an actual modern-day manifestation of the healing powers of God. You tell me.

Another thing I find interesting about Christianity's validity is the tangible evidence. For example; Buddha is dead. We know that. Confucius is dead. Muhammad's grave is even a holy site for Muslims. But go to Israel, and show me Jesus' corpse. Oh, wait HE ASCENDED INTO HEAVEN. The fact is, we know he lived, and we know he died. I know he was ressurected, but if you don't, then oh well. You can't argue the power an affect this man had, when in only three years of ministry he became the most influential person to ever walk the planet. And yes, though Jesus is part of the Holy Trinity, he is, in fact, a man.

Even if you don't believe in Jesus Christ, the Bible itself cannot be reasoned away. It's power and authority is practiced daily by hundreds of thousands of Christians. True Christians anyway, ones who know and excercise their authority. (For Christians who don't know their authority; Luke 10:19 KJV says 'Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you." Those words are written in red, by the way.) Even simple things, like the book of Proverbs, show the vast wisdom and knowledge of God. Example: Proverbs 26:11 (I believe) says "As a dog returns to his vomit, so a fool repeats his folly." Does a fool repeat his foolish actions? Does a dog eat his potentially poisinous vomit? Is this scripture wrong?

Lastly, I close with my personal favorite passage of scripture, Isaiah chapter 53 NIV, a prophecy concerning Jesus' crucifixion, written hundreds of years before Christ was born.

1 Who has believed our message
and to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed?
2 He grew up before him like a tender shoot,
and like a root out of dry ground.
He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
3 He was despised and rejected by mankind,
a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.

4 Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
6 We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to our own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.

7 He was oppressed and afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,
so he did not open his mouth.
8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away.
Yet who of his generation protested?
For he was cut off from the land of the living;
for the transgression of my people he was punished.
9 He was assigned a grave with the wicked,
and with the rich in his death,
though he had done no violence,
nor was any deceit in his mouth.

10 Yet it was the LORD’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer,
and though the LORD makes his life an offering for sin,
he will see his offspring and prolong his days,
and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand.
11 After he has suffered,
he will see the light of life and be satisfied;
by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many,
and he will bear their iniquities.
12 Therefore I will give him a portion among the great,
and he will divide the spoils with the strong,
because he poured out his life unto death,
and was numbered with the transgressors.
For he bore the sin of many,
and made intercession for the transgressors. '

Song of the Day: Jesus (of Nazareth) by (hed) p.e.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

I Should've Shoved a Paintbrush Down His Throat

So in art class today, I was sketching sad clowns. In general, I'm a pretty good drawer-I'm not even sure that's really a word-so I look at my drawing and say it's pretty good. He had his little party-type hat with polka dots on, little jacket with matching polka dots, makeup around his eyes and lips, cute lil nose, and painted eyebrows. However, upon close inspection I realized that Mr.Clown's ears were not leveled at all. I never really had a taste for Picasso, so I figured I'd just redraw it with correct proportions. As I resketched, some douchebag kid comes up and asks why there are cheeto puffs over my clown's eyes.
I looked at Mr.Clown.
I looked at the kid.
I looked back at Mr.Clown.
I looked at the kid again.
And you know what I said?
"SHUT THE F*** UP!!!!" I then procceded  to hurl the kid through the nearest window with my titanic strength.
Then I snapped out of my daydream, and kindly informed the child that they were painted eyebrows over his eyes, not cheeto puffs. (By the way, I am in no way the owner, inventor, or in any way affiliated with Cheeto Puffs or Cheeto brand snack foods, or Frito-Lay brand, or whoever makes those things. Copyright suit: avoided.) But apparently, he was either blinded by hunger or just plain stupid, because he insisted on telling me my clown must have missed his mouth during snack time.
If you're familiar with my blog at all, you know by now that I have an immense contempt for simple asinine stupidity. Being in the school setting I was in however, I practiced my self-restraint and proceeded to once again tell the kid that they were in fact, eyebrows, NOT CHEETO PUFFS. But you know, some people just don't get it. This was one of those people. So before I wrapped my hands around his throat and never let go, I simply walked away.

Kids, just walk away.

I think it's a combination of the hair and tongue ring, but this picture is really kinky.

Song of the day: Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd
                          Awesome Deftones cover

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Types of People I Hate:

  1. Helpless People. Prime example; people who go to the service desk/nearest employee every time they need to find something, when they can easily look for it themselves. The Dewey Decimal System was invented for a reason, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't for morons who didn't graduate high school to bother the librarians by asking to find a book that's right in their face. But then again, someone who didn't pass high school isn't likely to be in a library. They go to grocery stores though, and just ask the guy stocking green beans where the bread aisle is, when there's a huge fucking sign hanging from the ceiling that says BREAD right over the aisle. Companies invest money in these things so that idiots like you can at least have a fighting chance, trying to find your thigh-fattening WonderBread. I'm not sure if it's just being lazy, or if you're really that stupid; as you have to ask where the damn checkout lines are. Yes, I have heard someone ask that.
  2. People Who Make Way Bigger Deals Out of Things Than Neccessary. Kind of a broad description, so allow me to provide an example:
    Billy: "Mommy, where are the Band-Aids? I scratched my knee playing outside."

    There are people roaming this planet that have no concept of importance. Especially teenagers. Your boyfriend dumped you. Move on. I don't even want to see what you'd do if you ever got layed off a job. The fact is, some events in this life are inevitable. Period. So instead of moping about it, continue. Granted, there are times to get emotional over things. My parents divorced when I was very small, and my father lived with another wife in South Carolina when he died. Sure, I cried. Sure, I greived. but I did not dwell on it, and spiral into an uncurable depression because over it. As cliched as it is, life goes on. When you get beat up at school, don't feel sorry for yourself about it. Just go kick that guy's ass. Or, just accept it as life and continue living. Now, I am in no way saying that you should just put up with people's bullshit and call it fate. But there has to be a balance. Living life emotionally frail and weak will only cause more heartbreak, which leads into my next peeve.
  3. People Who Get Heartbroken ALL THE TIME: So I know this girl. Her name is _______. She has had many, many boyfriends over the years. She has been depressed many, many times over the years. She has been hurt many, many, MANY times over the years. This girl is stupid. For one; there's no way every guy you "fall in love" with is such a douche, that he takes your heart and snaps it in half. You need to look at yourself. A woman a know has been divorced twice over the years. She is also stupid, but for other reasons as well. She thinks she is the best person she can be, and that there are just "no good men left in the world". She is so wrong, it's sad. Not meaning to boast, but my girlfreind would say I am a very good boyfriend; with which I would happily agree. We are both very good, very loving people to each other, and others. We are sensible enough not to just date any guy/girl who makes a pass at us, ergo, we are not constant victims of the opposite sex, like aforementioned ______.  Whether you believe in the bible or not doesn't matter concerning this, but Provers 18:24 says "A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother [reffering to God]". If you're constantly becoming deeply emotionally involved with various people, (even just statistically speaking) you are going to get hurt more. Though it is my opinion, it's more than that. It's fact. If you haven't been single for more than two months ever in your life, then you're just an emotionally damaged person who craves love and will take it from anyone, even though it'll bite you in the ass in the long run. That's all I got to say bout that.

Song of the Day: Alien Ant Farm cover of Michael Jackson's "Smooth Criminal"

Monday, April 11, 2011

Signs of the Times

Signs of a new world emerging
Your thoughts and moods deterring
My visible, risible joy
All the little girls and boys
See evidence of the times
Why can't we all open our eyes?
Your tiny brains are clouded over
All you want is more of her
More sex, more greed, more decadence
Ingulge in your own arrogance
Swallow up her open lust
Her life, your pain disguised as trust
Your intentions, bad as his
Our only future's more of this?

Forgive Me, I'm Just A Man.

First off, I apologize. I know all you loyal followers have been in tears, not being able to partake in my words of wisdom. But I have an excuse. The little area in which the note is constructed was just loading, and loading, and loading, and loading, and loading, and it kinda pissed me off, so I punched straight through my monitor with my Herculean strength. Quite enjoyable. Excuse number two; spring break. I was too busy failing at hurdling fences and fire hydrants to blog. But maybe you'll feel less blind rage when I tell you how while attempting to hurdle the fence at a local park, my leg was caught in it at the same time my hand was completely missing the pole I was trying to grab and use to hurl myself over. I now have bruises. On my soul. (Speaking of the soul, I'm curious; how do you think it works? In body, out of body, what's it made of, etc. TELL MEH.) Excuse number three; poetry. While in the "teens" section of a local library, I discovered a room. With magnetic walls. Needless to say, I was in ectasy. The wall was covered with words on refrigerator magnets, so I pulled a bunch and wrote a poem about a girl addicted to drugs. Due to my limited avaliable vocabulary, it was a lot more direct than my usual poetry, but it was as cryptic as I could make it. I'd post it, but I can only remember the first stanza. The look was awesome though, with the individual words and different fonts and crap. Wish I would've made a copy of it, but oh well.

All I can remember:

In a place by the present day
Is a woman in costume
Remember when she smiled?
We remember who you were.

Song of the Day: Tractor Pull by Within the Ruins