Featured

Time

Time is wasting…well…our time is wasting…but Time…Time is moving forward tirelessly…effortlessly…no matter how stuck in the bowels of life one may be…time keeps moving…It can give no thought to the misery it leaves behind it nor the triumphs….times is long, but we are not…Time will soon be gone from me like a vague dream…The Universe, it must be cracked…that feeling you have now…right now…that is it…

Advertisements

Roomie

The nightly shrieking persistently piquing
The urge to evict my uninvited guest like some unpaid tenant who parties too hard
preventing me sleeping
with his endless weeping
and shrieking, pleading
“Please, please!
Turn on the lights!
I am afraid! Afraid!
So afraid….”

But I am now quite fond
Of my uninvited ghostly friend
Who is pleasant until the howling begins.
Each night, I don’t sleep
until the world wakes,
And as the world wakes,
I’ve yet to sleep,
And I rise from my bed
as if I, too, am a ghost.
I see my face as pallid as that of one who dying
or freshly deceased.
It is a struggle to move or speak.

This ghost, he is friendly,
He is harmless,
aside from the sleep deprivation.
He is pleasant company
Until night falls,
and then he wails
and cries and moans and shrieks,
For he is afraid of the dark.
But I am a human who needs sleep…
maybe we forget about needs
Of the living once we become ghosts…
Ghosts, you see,
They need no sleep.
But theystill feel fear…
Even of silly things: the dark.

But maybe ghosts…
Maybe they see what most beings cannot…
Maybe they see something
far worse than ghosts
where there is no light.
Each time I ask my strange friend,
“what is in the dark that isn’t on the light? What is there to fear of the dark?”
He merely responds with more moaning and sobbing,
And, “Please, please, I cannot!
I cannot say! Just please!
Please, turn on the lights!”

Almost Died Laughing

I am not very sure why, but jist a couple days ago, I hapoened to wonder what is the funniest thing Ive ever seen or heard? What has made me laugh until it became torturous to laugh any longer? I know there has been more than one occassion for sure, but only once ever have I laughed so hard and incessantly that I struggled to beg for someone to turn off the television.

I was watching Whose Line is it Anyway? If you aren’t familiar, its an improv comedy show starring Collin Mockery, Wayne Brady, Ryan Stiles, and some other dudes and lady or two that get rotated out and also usually some guest celebrity. I don’t remember whuch episode it was particularly, and I’m not quite certqin what skit it was either, but it seems like it may have been a scene in which they were pretending to be ghosts in a sideways room or something like that…

I laughed so hard and so long ut was painful and I couldn’t breathe, and I barely made out the words and it took many attempts to say, “please! Turn it off! Turn it off!” I could not bear it any longer. I did honestly entertain the idea that I might just die right then if I didn’t stop laughing and I wouod he added to the short list of people who have literally died from laughter. Even after the tv was powered off, it took some time before I was abpe to calm down, stop laughing, and no joke: I laughed in short intermitent bursts for hours afterward.

I joked about suing the cast of Whose Line is it Anyway? For attempting to murder me. God bless them, they are some crazy funny and very skillfup masters of improv! I do believe they are quite underrated.

Panic

Nerves

  jangled

Pocket full of change,

My words escape me.

       Thought fails me.

            Out of range.

I feel doom….

Impending and

   inevitable.

Excitable and

expendable,

     completely abnormal.

Lights flicker

On, off, on

     And Off again. 

No proper Place

to begin

Or end

Renewable fate.

mental gas masks

 Sometimes fail

      To filter out the

Invasion of negativity.

Writing,words, and faggots too.

What I love most about writing is the way it helps to collect my thoughts, make statements, make laughter, is therapeutic and builds understanding…the true wonder of language is how it literally shapes our perception of reality. Lacking certain words entails very little to no concept of certain features of reality. If you had never known the word blue and had no thought of it, how would you see blue? How would you describe blue if you had never knew such a word existed??  Dude, I won’t even pretend to know. Ancient Greek scholars and Homer, and even more shockingly: that one guy who was like the color scholar. He wrote extensively about color…these people never once in their writings mention the color blue.  They had no concept of the color blue. Because they did not yet have a word for it. Blue. Easy. Homer had described the sky as the color Amber and also likened it to the color of wine……colors came to us in stages. Celebrity Ancient Greek scholars were probably at yellow. First came red as it is the color of blood…and…wine…really, it’s no wonder we always envision ancient Greeks as being large, belligerent and boisterous drunkards gathering together in the vomitorium for their regularly scheduled hate-orgy and celebratory poetry slam and wrestle-your-gay-crush   closet-clinging ritual to appear more manly and not gay…Despite what you might be thinking (like, that’s just absurd! Wrestling is fact:  Gay as Fok.  The only people who will argue the point are in fact, gay and love wrestling and they know they’re gay as fok yet, still, they cling to it because their brains have not evolved as quickly as the rest of the global population has…they are not advanced enough to just kick the fokn closet door down and own their faggotry.
Faggots are so in-style.  Faggot is the new black.  The easiest way to be “cool” is to just admit you’re a queer!  The sooner you leave the closet the cooler you are. Gay is automatically accepted in the cool-crowd, but generally speaking, the more flamboyant and proud to be a queer you are the better.  Everyone wants sassy gay friends.  They’re the top-trending must-have accessory now. Duh. We love you, faggots. Seriously).

Because you are.

You are beautiful
and you are a reason why.
Like a rose, you’ve bloomed,
and you will die.
This makes you far more precious
Than any gem or stone.
You will never be perfect
And you needn’t ever try to be
Because you, my friend,
Are an inspiring mind, soul,
And a distinct planet of your own.
And neither am I, perfect,
But I hope to be as perfect
to you as you are to me,
In all our imperfection.
And more than there are stars,
I love you just because you are.

Open letter to the Seeing-people: bugger off! 

Open letter to people who can see stuff:

To anyone whose eyes function as they’re intended to:
     Why, I wonder, do you filthy little animals with your seeing eyes feel the need to touch things? Isn’t it good enough to simply see things?  Just because a thing is there and you can see it doesn’t mean you must also grope it with your germ-infested disease spreading hands.  

      I heard someone ask today, Why do signs featuring Braille writing say, ‘Do Not Touch’?  Maybe a lot of you people who can see have asked either silently in your thoughts or in casual conversation with your friends who also see with their eyes. I’m going to tell you why Braille signs state to not touch them….

      Those Braille signs do not want you to touch them only if you can see to read with your eyes that it is written on the sign, DO NOT TOUCH! So if you can see the sign to read it just don’t touch it. It is not for you people win your functional eyes to fondle and grope and dirty it up with your seeing-person germs. 

      The signs are there only for those who lack the ability to see the words, who also cannot see the signs. Only the superhumans, most commonly referred to as “visually impaired” or “blind” may rightfully touch the signs.  It is a bit like adding injury to insult for a seeing-person to touch the signs because you get them all germified by doing so and the “visually impaired” already cannot see, why cause them to become infected with your seeing-oersonr influenzas or your RSV or any other illnesses which could be contracted just because you can’t keep your filthy little hands off Braille signs, or anything else for that matter…..just…stop…touching things!
     I bet you’re also now wondering what makes the visually impaired person superhuman and I’ll tell you now:

The visually impaired are superhuman because all of their other senses are heightened. Far beyond that of any of yours! Therefore, they’re advanced. And way better than any of you seeing-people. They’re the gods among all us mere mortals!

P.s., 

KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF THE SIGNS MEANT FOR THE GODS AMONG US!!!!


Open letter to the Seeing-people: bugger off! 

Open letter to people who can see stuff:

To anyone whose eyes function as they’re intended to:
     Why, I wonder, do you filthy little animals with your seeing eyes feel the need to touch things? Isn’t it good enough to simply see things?  Just because a thing is there and you can see it doesn’t mean you must also grope it with your germ-infested disease spreading hands.  

      I heard someone ask today, Why do signs featuring Braille writing say, ‘Do Not Touch’?  Maybe a lot of you people who can see have asked either silently in your thoughts or in casual conversation with your friends who also see with their eyes. I’m going to tell you why Braille signs state to not touch them….

      Those Braille signs do not want you to touch them only if you can see to read with your eyes that it is written on the sign, DO NOT TOUCH! So if you can see the sign to read it just don’t touch it. It is not for you people win your functional eyes to fondle and grope and dirty it up with your seeing-person germs. 

      The signs are there only for those who lack the ability to see the words, who also cannot see the signs. Only the superhumans, most commonly referred to as “visually impaired” or “blind” may rightfully touch the signs.  It is a bit like adding injury to insult for a seeing-person to touch the signs because you get them all germified by doing so and the “visually impaired” already cannot see, why cause them to become infected with your seeing-oersonr influenzas or your RSV or any other illnesses which could be contracted just because you can’t keep your filthy little hands off Braille signs, or anything else for that matter…..just…stop…touching things!
     I bet you’re also now wondering what makes the visually impaired person superhuman and I’ll tell you now:

The visually impaired are superhuman because all of their other senses are heightened. Far beyond that of any of yours! Therefore, they’re advanced. And way better than any of you seeing-people. They’re the gods among all us mere mortals!

P.s., 

KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF THE SIGNS MEANT FOR THE GODS AMONG US!!!!


Echo’s Wrath

Echo:
Narcissus, I called to you,
And you never acknowledged me.
I spoke words of love and praise
for you,
And you simply sat…
staring into the water,
Seeing only yourself.
Loving only yourself.
You’re so Obsessed
with your own reflection…
I can’t bear to look at you.
Your wretched soul
is painfully obvious…
I see that now.
All I can think…
is how I want to dissect you.
To stop your resurrection.
To peel the flesh from your bones.
To re-wrap you
and make you my own.
Narcissus, can you hear me now?
I suppose I really must begin
my work For you to finally acknowledge me…
It would have been quite nice to
have been noticed
Without having to carve on you.
When you’re begging for the mercy you cannot ever have, just know:
You’ve done this to yourself.
You’re an Ugly, horrid little manboy.
This, too, you should know:
Not even your own mother sat
staring at your face for more
than just a fleeting moment before
she ran, weeping, to her garden where she sobbed in great heaving fits
for her son is so ugly
she just didn’t know
if she could manage to hide her disgust from you.
Your father drank himself
into the grave over that face of yours.
So ugly it has KILLED people.
I’m sure, in my heart,
Narcissus, this is…
the right thing to do…
Or maybe it is the most…
satisfying thing to do.
I’m sorry…
I just cannot continue
Loving you as an alternative.
Let’s get on with it.
Shall we?
Just hold your breath.
Close your eyes,
Brace yourself for a surprise!
Now, if you keep whimpering
in that manner,
I shall have to remove
your tongue and sew up your mouth.
Do you understand?
Narcissus?
Are you ready?

Echo’s Wrath

Echo:
Narcissus, I called to you,
And you never acknowledged me.
I spoke words of love and praise
for you,
And you simply sat…
staring into the water,
Seeing only yourself.
Loving only yourself.
You’re so Obsessed
with your own reflection…
I can’t bear to look at you.
Your wretched soul
is painfully obvious…
I see that now.
All I can think…
is how I want to dissect you.
To stop your resurrection.
To peel the flesh from your bones.
To re-wrap you
and make you my own.
Narcissus, can you hear me now?
I suppose I really must begin
my work For you to finally acknowledge me…
It would have been quite nice to
have been noticed
Without having to carve on you.
When you’re begging for the mercy you cannot ever have, just know:
You’ve done this to yourself.
You’re an Ugly, horrid little manboy.
This, too, you should know:
Not even your own mother sat
staring at your face for more
than just a fleeting moment before
she ran, weeping, to her garden where she sobbed in great heaving fits
for her son is so ugly
she just didn’t know
if she could manage to hide her disgust from you.
Your father drank himself
into the grave over that face of yours.
So ugly it has KILLED people.
I’m sure, in my heart,
Narcissus, this is…
the right thing to do…
Or maybe it is the most…
satisfying thing to do.
I’m sorry…
I just cannot continue
Loving you as an alternative.
Let’s get on with it.
Shall we?
Just hold your breath.
Close your eyes,
Brace yourself for a surprise!
Now, if you keep whimpering
in that manner,
I shall have to remove
your tongue and sew up your mouth.
Do you understand?
Narcissus?
Are you ready?