Let's be perfectly honest...
Do you really think you can give humans the power of free will
And not expect this to happen?
I mean, look...
You made me, right?
How...in the name of you
Could this not be your fault?
If I build a car, and the car breaks down after the first mile
Is it the car's fault?
I made the damn thing!
You made me, SPECIFICALLY with the fatal flaw of imperfection
PLUS free will.
Honestly I'd say that's criminal negligence
It's almost as if you planned this to happen
You're almost as bad as those mothers who keep their children sick to get attention.
Is that what I am to you?
Did you make us just so you can play the victim card to all your friends like..
"Oh poor me...look, the humans have committed another genocide!"
Man...honestly just pay me now
We can settle this between us
How much cash do you have on you?
I'm not sure actually.
Really, I have an interesting perspective on this.
Most of my family are Democrats, Feminists, the whole nine yards.
I was raised the same way.
Went to a liberal college, made liberal friends.
But when I got out of the bubble of fantasy that is the American University
I had a bit of an awakening.
There's an old saying, that goes something like...
A Republican is a Democrat who got mugged by reality.
So I got woke, from the dream of leftism.
It wasn't so much that I preferred Republicans
It was that I suddenly saw....everywhere
How the Democrat mindset was ruining
As a result, I now see the majority of my family as lost and brainwashed
Who live in a fantasy
Yet they seem to see me in the same way.
Which, for obvious reasons can make it hard to relate to one another.
They would be the ones to not invite me to Thanksgiving
Though they still do
Really it is I, who declines
I'm the one who doesn't "invite" them
Instead I visit my extended family,
Who aren't constantly virtue-signaling, or calling things racist and sexist.
People who understand the pain of life, and don't shy away from it.
They are unpretentious, honest...
And they live here and now.
Not in some apocalyptic future
Or some shameful past.
I'm thankful for that.
When the Innocent go to bed with the Guilty
The soul and the mind are fighting
Can the soul forgive the governing mind?
The soul requires justice and retaliation
But the mind can see the future
The mind can see beyond momentary catharsis
It's as if the soul acts like a bouncing ball
It takes in energy
And it must be released
Where the soul is tickled
It must laugh
Where it is yelled at
It may cry
Or yell back
Where the soul is injured
It seeks vengeance
But a good mind will chime in
Tut-tut little one
If you strike
His soul will be inclined to strike you back
And you do not know his mind
His mind may not be quite as sharp
Or keen on control, as I
The people of Israel are the soul
They require justice
They deserve justice
And they know it
But the governing mind of Israel
It’s military, it’s politicians
Cannot act as the soul would want
Surely if they did
Gaza would be driven into the sea
Who’s decision was it?
To allow the people of Gaza
To be governed by terrorists?
Terrorists who desire the death of the Jewish people
When the innocent go to bed with the guilty
Who shall be punished?
The answer of the Christians
Is to turn the other cheek
To end the cycle of suffering
But when that is not enough
When your neighbor will only be satisfied with your death
Because of who you are
If the mind acts as it should
And the violence ends
And there is peace…for now
The soul will remember that justice is owed
And it has been deprived of said justice
Will the soul forgive the mind?
At the level of the individual
At the level, of a nation, of a people
Perhaps, given time…
Time is something we don’t have
Life is so short already.
Is it though?
If only we could agree on what life is.
You can’t exactly
Dole out justice and punishment
On animals and souls
If you can’t tell one from the other
That’s a good question
I guess we’ll just have to carry on…
Where is the Line?
Between tolerance and standards
Between tolerance and decency
Between tolerance and the rules
That mark the rails
Upon which the train of civilization travails
I know all the talking points
I know all the rebukes
I used to fall on the left side
Of the political aisle
I remember what it was like
And now I watch
As they continue to descend into chaos
It’s almost like I…
Jumped off the train
Just as I noticed
The bridge was out
We’ve reached a point in our collective dysfunction
A sort of
Critical mass of madness
Where I can point out something happening
In the real world
That 20 years ago, would have been a film
Or a book
Describing some dystopian nightmare
And the response is always
“It’s the right thing to do.”
Just like the characters in those books
The actors in those films
Who believe with religious zeal
That this is the just and only way
To save the world
I hope the author of this story
Has thought of a better ending
Do you know what love is?
Is it a...
There is no such thing as love at first sight
There is lust at first sight
Love comes with time
You love when you sacrifice
You love when you forgive
Every time you reunite, after a fight
Kiss once more, at first light
You love when you let them go
Because you know…
They’ll come back
Footsteps in the snow…
Eh…I don’t know
Maybe love is selfish
We only give love because we need love
Love at first sight?
Yeah right…I don’t bite
I’ve felt that a dozen times
But I’m still cold at night
I walk out of my grotto
Feet slapping upon the cool smooth stone
Pebbles, sand and grit
A single thorny bush
My little witness
Waves in the breeze, as if to greet me
The smell of salt, wet on the air
I taste you
The ocean on this night
The terrifying black unknown
Mirror to my darkest fears
Primeval maw of the predator
The wolf in Eden…
I summon thee
I could have imagined it
The sound of drums
I’m sure of it…
A cool breeze
Comforting and sweet
Whispers of something
Like an old lover who speaks sweet nothings
Tickles the ear
Suddenly, with a shudder
It becomes the whispers of a serpent
Whispers of death
It becomes a great wind, a howling wind
Kicking up sand and dust that stings the eyes
Silent flashes in the distance
Thunder that rolls
Like the footfalls of a million soldiers…
One drop of rain, falls in the dust
Like a pebble thrown by a teasing friend
This is no friend of mine…
A second drop...then a third then a fourth
In moments the army arrives at my door
Curtains of rain begin to fall
These are not rain drops, but water stones.
A barrage of water that pummels and assaults
Scream to the heavens
Garbled gargled Gargamel
Bring me, Livyatan!
A shriek, a scream, that answers in reply
Did it come from the sea?
Did it come from the sky?
I feel it through the earth
As if mother earth herself, recoils in horror
At what I have summoned
A monstrous bellow
Cuts through the roar of the rain and the sea
But this time, there is no mistake
It is the beast
Is it my imagination?
My G-d it must be
The borders of the sea
They are rising, expanding
As if the ocean itself is attempting to escape
To flee before the abomination that rises
In brief flashes
I see something
Something that curdles the blood
As witness to that which should not be
Cloven from the immortal
Cursed by his sin
Little dancing shapes to the east and west
Dancing to the tune of some, unholy music
The cacophonous, chthonic…chaotic
The brush beside my cave
Water flowing in…now swirling about their roots
The sound of the surf begins to rise up in my ears
Growing to a deafening roar that overcomes the pounding rain
I can hear waves crashing upon the shore…
I am far from the shore
To my left and right, waves crest upon the hills
Again it bellows…it moans…out of sync somehow
Like a soul not quite connected to the flesh
I peer through the darkness
My eyes attempting to pierce through the sheets of rain
The impenetrable blackness
A flash illuminates…what is this?
A second horizon? A mountain?
I crane my neck
I had been looking straight ahead
When I should have been looking…up
What have I done?
Hope is a four letter word
A curse I wouldn't wish upon my most hated enemies
What sort of G-d
Would lead a man to believe
His life could one day be better
Life is a soup of shit
That you are compelled to walk through
A sea…a fetid lake
Whipped and coerced onwards
Trudging deeper and deeper
Until you drown
All the while
Your friends and relatives
Smiling and clapping and cheering you on
If you’re not smiling
It must be your fault
What a joke
I love this idea, and i'll tell you why
My G-d am I disturbed
All my colleagues know it.
I'll play music of the insane while I cut meat
Die Antwoord, Rob Zombie...
I tell them it relaxes me.
It's a half truth
It's because the energy of this music
Matches my internal reality
It synchronizes with the rhythm of my internal madness
And in that way, it is soothing.
I don't know if that's why some art comforts the disturbed
While that same art disturbs the comfortable...
No wait! I do know!
The comfortable are disturbed by art that soothes the disturbed...
Because it reminds them of a piece of themself they have yet to integrate
If you have not integrated your shadow
You may fear it
I mean...I dunno...
Bunch of punk ass bitches, haha.
It's hard for me to imagine art that would disturb me
There is no art more disturbing than life itself
If you don't see that
You haven't lived.
I heard on the news today
That a young boy of 15, here in France
Had killed himself
Because he was bullied, viciously
His life, apparently made into...
A vision of hell
His parents wrote a letter to the government in Paris
Asking for help for their son
The French government told them to shut up and sit down
To stop annoying them
I don't know the situation
So I honestly can't judge either side of this equation
With a fair hand
Was their son coming home every day
Was it mostly taunting, teasing
Good Lord I hate that phrase
It's so dramatic
The idea that their son...killed himself...
It's hard to fathom
I have wanted to kill myself before
I've pondered long and hard
With a knife in my hand
With my hands on the wheel
With my hand on a bottle
In the end it is a decision of self respect
At least I see it that way
Some religions choose to call it a sin
But frankly I think that's much too impersonal
It's about knowing that you deserve more
Than for your story to end there
Face down in the mud
In a puddle of vomit and shame
It isn't fair to say that I would do things differently
It isn't fair to say that his father failed him
Find it hard to fathom...
If I had a son
Coming home with bruises every day
I would sit him down
And greet him like a warrior
Come home from the fields of battle
Now you know the evil that exists in the world
This is what it means, to become a man, my son
You’re here aren’t you?
It doesn’t matter how much they hurt your body
It is your spirit that animates you
Your indominable spirit
That rises up
Every time they strike you down
You rise back up like the undead
And smile back
This is your hero’s story
You will overcome
But back to brass tacks
I remember what it was like to be in the middle of hell
And the biggest…motivator
To end it all
A ploy of the devil
That makes you believe
That this pain will last forever
So many kids think like this
Because their lives are so small
In the scheme of their young history
This bully is the final boss
The goliath they cannot conquer
There is no other mountain
How could there be any struggle greater than this?
They have not yet seen the world
You must remind your children
That the world is vast, and they are yet so young
That this too…shall pass
But back to my son
It is not about how hard you hit
But how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forwards
That is what makes you a champion, that is what makes you a warrior
That is what makes you a man
You shall become the nightmare of these cowards
You shall rise like the undead
And smile and laugh
As you are become death, destroyer of worlds
And in a few years…when all has passed
And you are on to another school
A new world, a new challenge…
You will have already become a hero
Sword in hand...
For the next dragon
Will I Am
I am certain I have said this before
I believe this place is a training ground for the soul
Where one soul, may train its power of will
For the higher worlds are worlds of will
Tis the lack of will
That breeds chaos and disorder
Which effectively is the definition of hell
If we are to keep the higher worlds
The higher orders, as such
The only souls that may enter
Are the souls which have perfected their power of will
Who is this magical Will by the way?
I'm sure William or "Bill" is a pleasant fellow
But what did he do that was so important
As to have "the power" attributed to his personage.