The Unlikely Incident

As I reflect on it now, I know that it was the defining moment; it turned my life around. It was one of those seemingly unimportant moments in life. Some people would think it was silly. That small lump of excess protein and fluid defined who I was as a person.

It's dried and crusty husk clung to my finger, refusing to accept its fate: to be flung into some unknown corner and forgotten. I was not going to let that happen to me. I had made several realizations about my life, and it wasn’t too late. I could still change and not wind up a forgotten and useless mass on the tip of life's finger. I would survive.

It wasn't always useless and shriveled. It had started thick, full of substance and moldable to whatever position I might fill. It was adaptable and full of potential, just as I was. As time passed on however, it just stayed there; clinging to one place on my finger, unmoving as the sands of time blew over it, ignoring it. It became nothing, just as I was. It could have done many things, but it stayed in one spot, just as I did. It rapidly faded, losing its potential, just like what was happening to me.

It wasn’t completely perfect. Before being plucked from the rest of it's ilk, it had already dried at the edges, setting it apart as an irritation. Rather than change and become useful, it stayed there, abandoned by its society: an outcast. I had done the same thing; I had separated myself. I was in this dismal station because I couldn't grasp change. The rest of my kind moved on to better things, while I remained, clutching to the gates of time, fired from my job due to lack of new skills.

I imagine it wasn't always so. I'm sure beforehand this now dried lump one was indistinguishable from its mates. It might have had a job sure, but it was a nomad. It moved freely through a complex system, changing to suit its environment, just as I once did. I was fresh out of high school, and had so many possibilities. I had a girlfriend, a promising future; overall I had a life. I was an up and comer. If it weren't for my wife's traumatic death, I probably would have been successful. Come to think of it, that probably happened to the lump as well: life threw it a loop and it couldn't handle the change.

Things that don't change get behind the times; they become obsolete. Life has ways of removing those who serve no function. Just as easily as I plucked this irritation, so could life pluck me. If I were to go, how would others remember me? I would be forgotten. Long past my prime, and unyielding to the times, I would be remembered as an irritation that was (thank goodness) removed. That’s not how I wanted to be remembered. I was a caring guy who loved his wife deeply. I hadn't been popular and she was the guiding light of my life. Every success I had I owed to her. Her loss had put me into a rut. I no longer had the courage she gave me. I was nothing more than the underweight asthmatic nerd who didn't know which end of the putter you used to hit the puck into the field for a home run.

As I flung the booger into a nearby trash can, I was filled with resolve. My wife wouldn't want me to give up. She would want me to live life even better, since I had to live for both of us. Even as the booger shattered into its many unfulfilled hopes and dreams, mine grew and swelled. I could hear my wife's words of encouragement as 15 years of pain and sorrow turned into a surge of motivation. As I reeled my life back together, I felt my wife's spirit welling up in my chest, giving me life, and I knew she was proud of me. I know now it was her who arranged my incident with the snot, and it was her who, in her infinite creativity, reached out to me and made my life worth living again.

The Prophecy

Several generations ago, a group of mystics(those who deal with aural energy and its manifestation) began to have visions of and ending of their world. An ending of energy, magic, and all matters of the soul. A rather unlikely collection, but bound by their belief of the prophecy and innate desire to pevent it. Now known as the Originators, they created trough the binding of pieces of their own essence into a new soul, later to be incarnated as a Guardian. Not much was known about the bad thing or how it was to be brought about. Only that would be brought with time and vision. The guardian exists today, and the originators are reincarnated. A new revelation shows that during the guardian's creation, one other threw their portion in, upseting the balance the originators wanted. It caused theguardian to have a heart, concience, and a concept of morality. This abberation to design caused minor problems at first, but the guardian was eventually brought about to his duty and life design. Recently, the Guardian has conferred with the originator who had the vison, and now it is evident that one of the originators in this incarnation will prove to be the invoker of the bad thing. Another complication is the guardian recently has ben unable to vent his growing frustration and anger. It has been growing and the only thing that can satiate the guardian has been denied him. What is the guardian to do?

Friday the 13

This is a special time for me.

A day when i can let the chaotic energies flow through me and revel in their emotional rapturous glory.

A time where it matters not what is fact, fiction, truth or lies.

All that matters is instinct and emotion.

No politics today.

This is my time to be powerful.

My time to bask in the glow of others misfortune as karma balances out within me.

A time to spread my tear stained wings and tower over the pathetic excuses of humanity we have today.

A world where people live in denail fear and fakery is mine to destroy and to leave in its wake a place where mankind is not afraid to be honest, to show their feelings.

Not afraid to become angry at someone or to love someone unconditionally.

Not afraid for change.

A world of adaptability.

So let the chaotic powers reside witghin their rightful master, and allow the powerup from ordinary to extraordinary as i prove once again that nothing can stop me and nothing can overpower the sanctity of emotional instinct.

Manta, come to me and let us combine to create the embodiment of darkshock; a mirror into the true colors of this world. A shadow to allow true light to shine forth. A world where I am Alwaysthebigbrother no more.

People view jealousy as a bad thing. I know because I was one of them.

Then I began to think.

Jealousy isn't a crime. It's a tool.

Jealousy fuels rage, which in situations that impact my life, can be a benefit.

As I type, I let the darnkess in my soul well up, compounding upon my rage, building it. My jelaousy swirls like a tempest.

The wings of truth and justice that lie upon my back warp and twist into demon's wings, filled with fire and hate.

Hate for those who hurt me.

Hate for those who spurn me.

Hate to those who don't know.

Hate to myself for not letting go.

The beast is unleashed, but under the guise of a friend.

Now to manipulate to my own selfish end.

Why do I get Jealous.

I hate what jealous people do, I hate what jealous people act like.

Jealousy in and of itself is caused by what seems to me to be petty reasons.

So the question I ask is why?

Why do I get Jealous?

Why does the power embrace me?

Why is it that as it is bubbling up inside of me I don't fear and destroy, I accept and inspire?

Why am I addicted to its power?

What causes me to feel this way?

What causes me to do Dark desires, yet hate them in the end?

Why do I hurt?

Why...?

Thats it. I've hurt the one I care deeply for. I can't do this.

I can't.

I'm pierced, and cannot move the shaft.

I can't.

I wish i could say good bye.

I can't.

I want to give up.

I won't.

I will not hurt whom I love anymore.

Never more.

I feel old.

Drained.

I regret what I do, but not how I do it.

Im sorry.

I am.

I.

Love.

Morning bluebird

i woke early one morning

the earth lay cool and still

when suddenly i tiny bird flew to my windowsill

It sang a song so lovely

so carefree and so gay

that all my worldly troubles seemed to slip away

It sang of far off places

of laughter and of fun

it seemed its very trilling brought up the morning sun.

So I stirred beneath the covers

Crept slowly out of bed,

and then I shut the window to crush it fucking head.

Epic mediocrity

on the first day, He, The One, the Almighty went forth on a quest to create gaiety and frolic. Forth from his haven he set, mounted upon the steed of choice towards his fellow god's home.

His fellow god Rickomemnon was upon completion of his suit of power, drawing upon the unsurmountable power of the triforce as he did so. Lo, did he complete the garb, and don it so, and it was good for it was made by a god.

From rickomemnon's haven the two gods flew, for tey were yet not finished gathering the revelry for the nights creation.

Upon His mighty steed the two gods flew, and headed to join two minor gods, Timmonicus and Owentioch.

Ah, but the two minor gods had a steed of their own, Timmonicus' father, god of the vantheon, had delivered them to rickommemnon's haven shortly after His departure.

Reunion was in quick order, and it was made so. Much revelry and gaiety took place, and the armour that the gods wore made them giddy, in that they commissioned portraits of themselves in various stages of embarrassment.

Forthwith the foursome fled to seek out entertainment, and the thought of humor and hte relentless chant of "dicks pussies and assholes" soon filled the gods' many heads.

Alas! the barbarians of Valhalla did not serve the inteneded entertainment! So the gods withdrew to the colleseum to make merry with the mortals.

Within hot topic, the foursome encounteered a most fascinating mortal, with beauty surpassing athena and aphrodite. it made them giddy and drunk, and they anced and made merry, mocking west side story and other manner of tom foolery.

After the exciting games they gods required food and drink, and went to feast upon ambrosia and pop.

Ah, the ambrosia was sweet, and the pop slaked their thirst. The tender to the fields gave them helms to commemorate the occasion, and they did enjoy the helms, for they were enjoyable.

Lo! The promised land of Walmart called! And so did these gods enter and make merrry. Upon the entrance, the gods were approached by an elder who had been filled with the feremented juice of the grape, as well as fair maidens whom semed sent as through providence. Providence indeed, for when the gods exited the promised land, the steed was adorned with the preonal objects of the maidens! The cloth used to vclense the full buttocks of the maidens streamed about hte steed. the soft cotton and its sheath used to stave the vile flow of the maidens infant blood hung about the antennae. The priceless spread of the salve to keep the maiden's underarms free of the stench of the dark gods adorned the sides, and were inscribed with glyphs of encouragement and joy.

Ah, but one god was missing. Antionius.

So the gods went forth to join with antonius,and along the way, were to spur many of the wild beasts to raise horn and blow loud.

and so antonius and te gods travelled to antonius' haven, and there they made merry and danced.

then the gods traveled forth to the haven of Rickomemnon. Alas, but the darg gods sent folly their way.

It was fortunate for te gods that hunger overtook them, and had gone to the valhalla of Meat N' Mead to converse with maidens of fleshly enticement and target practice, elsewise they may have fallen to the folly.

The dark god Bambino had sent a minion to spread panic among the mortals, creating chaos and death upon the road to haven.

Many hours they waited, until finally a detour was created, after the gods sent others onto the way to the chosen path.

Ahh, the gods returned to the haven and adjourned to the sublevels of the palace. There, the gods made merry and ended not with greatful slumber but with the joyous entertainment of mortal fornication.

And so did the night close, and the world was at peace.

The ideal date

ok, the leaves are changing, so the entire landscape is a flourish of decaadent colors. A crisp wind kicks up swirls of leaves all about you. The sky, while bright is lightly streaked with clouds to hide the direct sun.

So now, we have ambient light filtering between the trees, illuminating the floating leaves, and i don't know aobut you, but when i see light behind a swirl of leaves, the edges of the leaves light up, and i swera i see halos of light around each leaf.

Sudden legal disclaimer: this is entirly through my eyes, so i do't know if it applies to anyone else.

So seeing these lazy floating halos around everything spark something in my head, and I am not kidding i begin to hear a music box in the background.

I know its a figment, but i hear it just the same.

now this is a situation where i just have to watch, and as i stare at the halos, streaks of multicolored light start to spring for some of the rings, and trails begin to form, whirling about in an erratic yet hauntingly beautiful dance.

now about this time, one of my friends begins to talk to me, and as i bring my eyes away from the view,i ralie that everyting seems so much brighter. almost as if ttranquil emotion is actually radiating from everybody and all the light.

Now keep in mind i try to hide this a lot of the time, 'cause i get some reaaly odd looks, but this is me, so no reason to hide it on here.

now the color that is now flying all around me is reflected in the water, and if i gaze into te water, i begin to see images. I see people and places that i've encuntered. And they're happy.

well, not always happy. I mean te people are, but... let me explain.

It all depends on my mood. If I'm happy, the images smile back at me and join me and come out to be with me.

If i'm neutral, the images play like a movie; emotional but not very involving.

If I'm down, the images play like what if?s. They show me what could have been, how happy i could be, what i did wrong. they talk to me and ridicule me, and the smiles on their face are smug and filled with condecending victory.

but most of the time its happy.

speaking of light, one beautiful thing is when sunlight filters behind a womans hair. especially if there is a lsight breeze. the hair flows about, lmost on its own accord, and the sun lights up each strand. Now as the hair flits back to cover her face, they keep some of the light that passed through earlier, and light up her eyes. Now te light never stops, and some of thelight as it passes the eye, illuminate the diamonds withing, and they sparkle and sparkle like nothing i have ever seen. The sparkle warms and protects and bonds. Its not necessarily a sparkle of light anymore, but a sparkle of emotion. an emotion that is indescribable by any word or langueage. it is only possible to say that only if you have exerienced it, will you know what i mean.

Retribution

it is that time again.

it seems that even though i try very hard to be kind and adapt to everyone's needs, i do have a time where i tend to snap, and this is my week.

I'm not quite sure what triggers it, but right now, i feel there are some people that deserve to be punished for their imppenitent, uncaring and overly decadent behavior.

The powers of retribution and justice have decided it is their time and I am the instrument of choice. Through my eyes will the sinners find fear. Through my words will the unworthy know. Through my hands will the cast out fall. It is a world filled with insects and dung, and its time to do some cleanup.

Are you one of those selected for punishment?

I hope not, for if i hear you are one of those selected, may your god be powerful enough to stop my wrath. People trust me. People like me. I'm close to everybody.

So remember this, your enemies won't kill you. Your friends will.

The righeous divine power that fills my soul all this week empowers me to decide who is worthy and who deserves to fall. Who deserves life and who death. I alone can decide your existence, or make it be so that you never did.

I am an tool of vengence, a chosen one of the retributive powers. I feel good. I feel powerful.

Justified even.

I mean come on! Million of poeple the world over hurt and kill and don't give a fuck aobut anybody around them! They affect so many more than just themselves,often spreading their misery onto oters so that they could steal te potential happiness for themselves! Is that the way to live? oppressedby someone who doesn't care? Hell no! Its time for that to change! Don't let yourself get trod on by someone who would prefer that you die, since i mean after all you're only getting in their way, right?

WRONG! You're supporting them. Even if they don't realise it, they wouldn't be anywhere close to wherethey are now or who they can claim to be if it wasn't for your diligent, unselfish, unswerving drive. Even through getting spit on, rejected, hurt, ignored, blown up at, hurt some more, rejected agin, and then suddenly, when tey realise that you might go away, act all buddy buddy and try to bring you back, it really gets ya.

I mean, i just love te feeling of having my very being stomped on, lacerated, destroyed utterly, and as i pick up te pieces you try to steal them back. I gave it to you once. it was turned down. It is mine to give, and not to you. I withdraw.