Death verses Realism

J log update~ i find myself growing more and more shallow each day. recently i was even tempted by a friend who said i could buy her drinks. just to have sex? would i really go that far just to satisfy the selfish desire of intimacy that my heart desperately longs for? despite the hate and spite that slowly consumes my heart, i was able to think with my old and considerate mind, warning her of how evil i was, how she should not be near me because my intentions were skewed. i find it odd that my heart wanted to warn her more than it wanted to fulfill its desires. i guess some parts of me still remain. my shallow pursuit shows no signs of halter. it makes me question what my real intentions are. possibly i am still as damaged to not know my own will. if you ask me, i think its all very ironic.

the reaction despite the coordination

Media is a fickle thing. you may find yourself open and defenseless if you rely on it for nutrients.

Is it hard to believe that the inspiration is myself? think of the world of today, the world of tomorrow. the reason we are here is because humans were given the ability to adapt and expand. our minds take a simple seed, a concept of sorts and wrap it up in our fleshy prison like minds. we erode away, further and further until we are left with a raw design, an imaginative idea or ideal for what it should be. we then mutilate and deform what our minds hold captive until it represents best what our ideal is, and we convey this to the world as a 'thought' or a 'concept'. the things you may find inspirational, were once imprisoned in minds of great value, formed from in the blink of an eye. i do not wish to convey anyone's twisted ideal but my own.

living here may be the least of your worries my dear. you too in rebellion have done your share of concept mutilation -- isn't that what rebelling is? you take the standard ideal of law and control and you twist and contort it into what you deem to be a more pleasing ideal, and as a childish whim you act on your new found catalyst as though the epitome of success. we continue to do this until our late late years where we find ourselves justified as 'adults' and productive members of society. so i raise the question: are we adults of maturity acting as children of inexperience, or are we children of reality acting as adults of nobility.

why do you wish to see my scars? look at my body, i will not hide the scars that cover it. within due time every scar will be seen. a scar is a reminder, a visual aid for memory that at one point we were wounded, bleeding, left to rot in our emotions, but overcame our own dramatic downfall only to stand and be looked upon as a monstrosity. might i give you inspiration? scars are healed, if you seek them you will only find what one believes and associates to be the most logical solution. interest is more held in the wounds that are fresh and gory. that way you can stick your fingers in and mutilate it like a concept or idea, and shift small parts of those wounds into your ideal scar for someone's body.

what you may seek is animated frustration, the irritating ideology of society. the twisted concept that is found in most humans that talk. you may see them at the store, you may walk by them on the street. they are twisted, cut open from early childhood and mutilated by the generation above, beside and below. taught that each role is as your so dear media dictates. the reason this has dug its way into my skin is simple, i cut myself open and forcefully removed as many hands as i could just so i could mutilate myself. i took my own flesh and caused it pain, i forced it in ways that are disgusting and repulsive because i knew that eventually i would be myself. now i can walk free in the streets. i have cut myself to remove the poison that was helping me live.

my patience lasts still to this day. i grow thin but not weak. my motive is to stand tall in front of the brainless puppets that society is calling 'women' and 'men'. i wish to twist their ideals, to mutilate each one in ways that they do to themselves each night. to stick my finger in their disgusting wounds and draw a smile with their blood.

you once asked why i burn all the gifted bridges, when i was not holding a match or kerosene. i have never held a knife to a neck that opposes me as i have never ran from those that oppose me. if you fall against me then so be it, i will live to experience and through experience i will live proper to my morality. in this way i will defeat all that oppose me. in the end, you are only fighting against yourself. that is the paradox of the human mind. you can only operate on the fuel you accept and you will only stop when you stop feeding yourself that fuel.

do not be afraid of what i say because it is only but a garnish to the love in my heart. without truth, love becomes weak. without love, truth becomes harsh.

have you tried to garnish truth with love recently? i have. people thought it to be disgusting and they alienated me because of it. that does not matter as much to imply that things have become deformed in the minds of many.

dare you dive deeper into the rabbit hole Ella?

Uhm, J.?

So, about your questions... Since your recent bit of closure, have they been answered? Let me know.

Anywho...

What on earth? What media inspired nonsense is this? Tell me you are not simply a dog chasing cars. Explain to me what has given you those scars :S

I did not know that you felt this way... but I certainly have wanted to say F*** the world, in true anger, but I guess don't mind so much having to live here, it will do, I suppose, til I go Home. So, I still think I don't know, so explain. I've never been more confused by a post.

Uhm, I think that's it.

Hey Ella, did you know?

how about those moments that make you want to scream out, "FUCK THE WORLD!"
how about those same moments where you feel such a release from the bonding chains of your reality that fiction lights up your mind like a wild fire?

i stand before you today, strengthened by forces i should not be encouraged by and i say, "I wish to see the world burn."

Lets light some fireworks and celebrate the coming of age in a world filled with rage.

after this, no black man will say, 'dis bitch be trippin balls!' .


i jab with my right andd block with my left. can you find the open spot and hit me?

Questions

How long do you remain caught up over love?
How far should you push your deepest feelings?
How hard should you try to hold onto what you had?

Do you think letting go is right?
If you let go, will you gain more in the end?
How do you know if its as true for them as it is for you?

Well...

Why do you seek answers to questions that can't be answered without them?

Surrounding yourself in a plethora of maybe, possibly, hopefully and lying to yourself.

Or maybe believing its for the better and living like it does not affect you until a day you magically meet again.

I really don't know. Maybe my voice in this should have remained unspoken from the start. Maybe its not right to still fight and scream about something you can't change. Does that make me a bad person?  Does being critical and serious in this situation make things better or worse?

I have asked random strangers for advice, wisdom, guidance from their hearts.  I have been told one magical thing... honesty.

Honestly, will it help?

well it can't hurt more than it does now...

can it?

Try Honesty

Catching the eyes if the middle-aged gas bar attendant, his imagination went wild. "what are the chances that if i really asked him something serious, he would reply with something amazing?" he thought, as he walked towards the gas bar's front door.

"Hey, hows it going?" He said in a relaxed manner. "Fairly good, Happy new year!" The man replied. "Heh' it is kinda turning out to be happy isnt it..." he replied as he walked through the doors with his head hung low. "oh well, such as life. i better just get my slushie and get out of here." he thought. As he walked to the counter there was a hold up. knowing that the total price of a large slushie is only 2.25, he looked at his handful of change. "four dollars huh?" he tossed it on the counter and calmly walked away saying "no gas, just a large slushie."

as he walked through the door he was greeted by the middle aged man once more. "have a nice night eh!" the man said in a canadian accent. "yea, you too." just as he passed the man, he turned and looked at the man as though he was lost and said, "hey.. i have a question.." "sure." the gas bar attendant replied as enthusiastic as possible. "what sort of advice do you have for life?" he asked while thinking it would get him absolutely nowhere. without hesitation, as if already prepared for this in a divine situation the man replied "Honesty. if anything will get you anywhere in life it is honesty. be honest with everyone even though it may hurt at the time, that way at the end of the day you are not looking behind your back. no one can hold stuff against you." he shook his head in disbelief and looked the man right in the eyes. "Honesty you say? thank you very much... have a good night sir."
"You too bud!" the man replied.






Honesty, huh? it was if he knew by looking at me that i was not being honest with everyone... honest with myself...


thank you...

an edge to reality

tonight, i was sold to Russians by my family like a dog, lost in snowy woods with my best friend and drove a car that became a burning log. one thing stood out among those all, and this is what i can recall.

the furthest point i can remember in the main plot is standing on a bridge. it was a different type of bridge, one with a separate bridge just above the normal bridge.

there was an accident there, a part of the overhead bridge was exposed to the lower and a man that was driving had gone from this lower bridge to the higher bridge. police had swarmed the lower area and were trying to figure out how he could possibly make it to that higher area. i just stood there watching them, listening to their ideas. they were all wrong, they could not figure it out. i knew how, i was willing to show them, but my voice was a distant fade. no one had reason to listen to a bystander in this case, so i went on my way.

everything faded suddenly into third person. there was regular small-city street, a sidewalk in particular. it was on a hill. a young man in his late teens was biking with his younger brother. they came up to some chocolate bars, candy that was individually wrapped, clean, tempting. the older brother said "i know it looks like it could be bad but i have had a rough enough time in my life and im going to have a break.
he bent down and picked up some candy and as he did, something caught his eye. there, beside a doorstep was a pile of neatly organized bulk bagged candy. he forgot about the candy bars he saw before and went for this treasure he had found, his little brother standing there, watching. the older brother took a giant scoop with both arms wide to get as many as the candy bags as possible when a man appeared standing over him.
the older brother realized he had forgotten his jacket somewhere, at a bridge when an accident happened. winds started to blow and snow came as the older boy grew cold and alone. the older man said "i found a jacket by a bridge. it had lots of candy in its pockets." he paused "i had set the candy there and donated it and the jacket to homeless children." anger grew within the teen. the man had left and it became night time. the teenager walked back and forth outside yelling how much he hated everyone and everything, throwing snow at windows.

i stood in a dim lit house on a second story floor that was connected with the street watching this teen. the teen hung his head in shame and walked up a set of stairs towards me and into this dim lit house, as he got close to me he dissipated.
the scene shifted to a house i have got to know well recently. Alice lives here. two friends were there, Mercury and Alice. - Alice is a girl i recently got mixed up with. a situation i regret entirely. - Alice and Mercury were talking, i had a hood on and was standing close to them. they did not seem to notice me at all. they talked about boys and somehow it came to me. "ah, him. that is nothing to talk about" Alice said spitefully. i thought that i had completely vanished from them so i walked between them and took off my hood. suddenly Alice clung to me and didn't let go. she had me against the wall hugging me quietly. everything faded back to the small dim lit house where the teenaged boy who dissipated was.
an older male appeared then. his skin was dark and he was wearing a grey jacket. somehow i knew he was an angel. i turned from the street and saw him and behind him the scenery of a small town between some hills that was lit in glowing streetlights.
i turned to this angel and was quiet. the angel spoke first. "what is it your looking for?" i had no response. "do you look for a chance to speak?" he said casually. the angel went on, " i remember when i had a rough time in heaven. i had requested to go back to earth. i nearly lost the father, but things got better." what the angel said just then sounded so surreal, coming back from heaven? no way! suddenly a microphone appeared in front of me. the angel said "here is your chance to speak what you feel, i will listen to what you have to say. there are guidelines though." guidelines? i thought as he continued. "yes. one, you must not scream or yell. we don't want to wake anyone. two, no using profanity, no swearing. three, you must not curse me, the father, or anyone else out."

i took a step back, turned around and walked towards the microphone quietly. "it is got to be hard to communicate my feelings without swearing you.." just as i was cut off by the angel in speech. "hey there son, how is it going?" the angel said as a little boy ran up to him. the angel slowly directed all attention to his boy and began to walk away. i felt ignored, overlooked, insignificant, unimportant, betrayed. he gave me a chance and left just as i was about to speak, like my feelings don't matter at all. i took a step past the microphone towards the small view overlooking the snowy dark town, it was beautiful, nostalgic in a way.
everything shifted. the view of the dark lit town became a wide open rolling stream of water, a beautiful forest stretching in front of me. i did not dare look back to lose this sight. the sun beating on my face, it felt so warm. "God, i don't want to lose this. i don't want to go back to the cold." i thought. suddenly jeeps and trucks started running through the waters, destroying everything. i was not surprised as much as amused at them splashing through the water and spinning around. soon enough all that was left was a muddy creek and me standing in the middle of it.
two friends were there, Mercury and Alice. they stood in the water with me. i did not say much, but i tried to make the most out of our situation. i took lead and lead them up the creek, water soaking up to our waists in muck. i joked around lots, did my best to make this horrible situation better and it worked for a while. but just as i got to a nice point,a small bend in the creek, my wallet fell out of my pocket.
black with lime green trim, made of duct tape. it was a special wallet made for me by a friend a long time ago, uniquely mine. i started to wade after it. i grabbed it in hopes that nothing had fallen out, but i had lost all my money, my bank cards and two movie tokens. i started to be swept a bit down stream by the current. Mercury and Alice has came back and gathered all my items i lost from my wallet. Mercury got close and carefully put it in my hands so i would not lose any of it. i closed my hands and looked back. to my left there was a small path to get out of the creek. i swelled with joy as i got out of the water. i dried up and was met by a not so well known but a joyful face. her name is Tia. she was just in the creek as well in some sort of game with her friends. she was chosen to be the "dead princess" she said. we walked for a little bit until we came upon a school.
walking towards the entrance of the school more familiar faces became present to my awareness. Krista, Katja. two cheerful balls of joy that tend to make me giddy. there was another who stood on the opposite side of the crowd to me. this one i knew well even though i could not see her face. Sierra was with us. my heart felt strangely unburdened and comforted by this. this small group of people that i did not know all to well due to distance between our homes, they felt so welcoming and it felt like a place of belonging. we all walked into the school together, all of us joking around, laughing, having a great time as friends walking through these school halls. Krista sat in front of a classroom door and began to study. i made a remark about the time i shadowed all of her classes in school and she smiled and hid her face in her palms. everyone laughed. we walked around one corner and then everything changed, students swamped the area and i found myself without Tia. i caught a glimpse of who looked to be Katja and Sierra so i followed them. they looked a bit different but i followed none the less.
the two characters i followed sat down and looked at me, both with fake bleached hair. i stared at them and they kissed each other. i felt alone, lost, like i had wandered away, it was my fault i was lost. i looked around, two directions to go, forward and away from where i might have lost the group or back down the hall i came. my smile was lost by this point. i chose the hall i came from and began to walk slowly. with only what seemed like 5 steps, Katja's face popped over a few shoulders in the swamp of students our eyes caught instantly. "Oh My Gosh!" she screamed in her uniquely high pitched and cute voice. she walked with me back down the hall we came. as we walked i could feel a sense of relief of great worry from Katja.

everything ended with that.

i woke up confused. my mind cycling around everything, trying to focus on Sierra. why did i even have a dream tonight let alone remember it. why those people? why did that group welcome me after everything that happened? Sierra was happy with me there? everything confused me. i wanted to go back to sleep. to walk the halls with that group again. to walk along and have fun with everyone and not carry the burdens i face... things are slowly getting better. every day she is on my mind. i still have hopes, aspirations for the years to come. two years i keep telling myself... we will meet again... until that time i wont see anyone... i cant... i will get out of this creek, this rut... in hopes that the last words she spoke to me will withstand time... like we always dreamed...

dreams that fade into the calm red morning sky,
as you sleep you slowly die.
you never know what awaits
in a land slowly drifting into the wake.