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Attempt to kill self failed. Bungled. Botched. Fucked up as usual.
Will try again, if successful I will have made some sort of headlines.
"Inconsequential dipshit does humanity a favor: Tonight at eleven."
I've burned everything and started drinking heavily. This post serves only as a clarification of my intentions when confusion sets about. It was more than I could bear. I would ask forgiveness but this moment, my memory and everything having to do with me will be forgotten in a few weeks. You will feel better soon enough.
Signed,
Sorry in two ways
It's hard to focus when you're trying to decide whether you should slap the child or the parent. Very hard actually...
This has turned into a chicken and egg deal. Well, I need to get to another thought so I will flip a coin. Tails, smack the child.
Earlier in the week I went outside and some kind of ice storm had swept over the United States. I can't help but feel like this has something to do with the mental rot as of late, but it provoked a trip to the woods to consult with the spirits.
The trip itself took much longer than it usually does, 4 hours instead of 1 because the ice on the road was formidable. When I arrived I immediately started a fire to summon the visions and for warmth. This time I did not need any sort of sacrifice, which is good because it's cold and everyone has brought their pets inside. The crow approached me and asked if people still dress up like a high contrast mime and use his name for themselves. "Yes..." I said, "they are all still horrible.
The crow sighed. He wishes he could do something but he doesn't have the ability to haunt their dreams anymore. Cell phones, ipads, ipods, penicillin, irrigation, 3-d movies and all manner of modern nonsense have separated man from his instinctive fear that the animal lords provoked in him. His feathers were fading into ashen gray and I realized I may not have many years left with the crow.
"Anyway..." he lit a cigar and began puffing on it, "what have you come out here for?
"Wisdom."
"It's cold, wear a jacket. Anything else?"
"Yeah, lately I haven't been feeling like myself," I told him.
"Well maybe you're becoming someone else." "What? I didn't understand that?"
"Oh sorry, wrong font. I said perhaps you are becoming someone else. Perhaps you are tired of who you were."
"No, that can't be crow, I do not like who I am becoming."
"You don't always become who you want to be. Maybe you're becoming someone you don't want to be because you are letting it happen."
"..."
"Have you done everything you can to grow or sharpen your talons?"
"No..."
"Well what HAVE you been doing?"
"Watching Adam Sandler movies."
"..." The crow looked stern and then said "wait... like seriously?! What the fuck is wrong with you!?"
"It wasn't my choice!!! There was nothing I could do! I'm staying over there and I can't very well"
"YOU'VE STILL GOT LEGS ASSHOLE! YOU COULD HAVE LEFT" the crow interrupted. "Those movies are a crime against humanity, and while you may not have been directly responsible for those crimes you still did nothing... nothing..."
"I got sick to my stomach!"
"THAT DOESN'T COUNT AND YOU KNOW IT!"
I lowered my head in shame as the crow began his rant.
"If you have fallen to the point to where you could stand to watch an Adam Sandler movie without leaving or destroying anything then this change that is taking place in you may be more extreme than I thought. This is not a good change Jack. If you do not do something to re-acquire the fire you once had you may very well lose it forever.
The words are not endless. If you do not feed the nuclear furnace of your mind then you could experience a meltdown from which you might never be able to recover."
"What do I do crow?"
"Go back to the library."
"But the late charges!"
"You don't HAVE to check anything out. You could sit there and read couldn't you? I mean, you still know how to read after watching an Adam Sandler movie don't you?"
"I... think... I think I do."
"Hrmm... Then read this," he dropped something to the ground which I picked up. It was a piece of paper and on it was what looked like a list. It read:
Doves
Pigeons
Swallows
Tits
I read the list aloud.
"Good," said the crow, "the Sandler movie did not destroy the entirety of your mind."
"But what is this list?"
"Oh, I was making out a 'birds I want to die' list so that when I finally fade into the winds of my ancestors I will know who's bloodlines to poison with my hateful spirit venom."
"..."
"But that's another story. You must go back to your land and people now and do what you can to recuperate that which you have lost."
I nodded and thanked the crow. He acknowledged me and I began to walk away.
"HEY! Do you have a gun in your truck?!" the crow quickly asked.
"No... why?"
"FUCK," he said, "some uppity dove is sleeping up there and I want it to DIE!."
I smiled and left. The bloodthirsty crow spirit was right and I knew then that there was much work to be done.
Yes, it's true that I have not updated because I wanted the post count to remain at 111. I suffer from a condition where certain numbers or colors or combinations* simply MUST exist for a period of time. I have tried to combat this condition but I must wait another 11 days before giving it another shot. But, I've decided that it was unfair for this non-living mass of digitized information to simply forget all about feeding it, so I am here for the purpose of giving it a literary enema.
That's something I aim to do every now and then, word suppositories. Not sure if I spelled that correctly but if I didn't nobody would notice anyhow. Four people in total have ever read anything on this online journal, well around four. Newer people and things have come about just in time to know me during my second ice age. The furnace was damaged during a trip to a place I hate and I have yet to circulate nuclear hot heat to the rest of my being an aspects. I prayed to a god with an Elephant's head and drank the blood of the Egyptian cat goddess, so soon I will either be back on the right track or will be driven completely goddamned insane. In either case it should not be boring. * Why is it showing that "combinations" is a misspelled word? Can nouns not be plural? I think this is another case of pedantry perpetrated by prolonged procrastination by pissant programmers. Busy writing codes of pixilated sex were we?! I have a hammer I want to fuck your skull with... people... I haven't met... and who may not even be there.
Good god was Bast's blood collected during "the curse?" Even cat goddesses who predate Christianity are subject to the twisted plan of Jehovah. Hopefully this is not the case though. Not just for women the world over but for myself. I lied when I said becoming insane would be just as good as getting back on track. I want to get back on track! If I'm insane I'll lose what little focus I have left and will wind up spending most of my time knitting a sweater that's not there. "THAT'S WOMAN'S WORK" says the invisible misogynist... I like it when it's quiet. Well, quiet besides the ringing in my ear.
In other news, this is the first time I've ever had a title for a post picked out before finishing the words. Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo. Perfect sense.
The child epitomizes annoying and unrelentingly spoiled. She will grow up to be detached or have unreasonable expectations. Her mother is a two faced swine who has basked in the light shone from the last flickering remnant of the person I once was.
I am paralyzed now. Sitting here stone solid unable to spark or spit fire. Such a miserable feeling right now, to have once ridden on a chariot of fire but now having to walk barefooted is terrible shit. But, it could be worse. Much worse, I could be one of the people I despise.
Well, maybe I am, now that I think about it. Would it not be a stretch to go outside of my mind and view myself as I am at this moment objectively? I wonder what I would find... spark spark spark...
my life is mine. do as i please before i am dust in the breeze. love and hate and laugh and joke and do all of this before i croak. more than the money and more than the fame and more than those bastards who all think the same. its not my world but its not theirs either. they collectively grasp at dull rings while using defective eyes and defective hearts to feel their way around the mists and darkness that we all find ourselves having to cross through. theres more than anyone thinks there is. the wisest of us all would shudder and weep but then throw their arms up in joy at the neverending mystery and the continuous flow of reassuring and reaffirming moments and ideas. it never ends but we do. its of extreme importance to embrace and seek these things. grow your heart not paper or electronic currency. find contentment and happiness not more room to put shit you dont need and dont truly want.
a person, because they are a person, must learn learn how to wash away the ideas they were given and then reconstruct a model of reality from genuine honesty, rationality, and an altruistic nature. we are the only living beings who can become puppets to ideas and thoughts. through us 'ideas' find homes and are given all thats needed to exist without existing. an idea that has been implanted before you had the chance to think it over is a virus that as an adult you should be able or willing to purge. once preconceived notions are gone you must find what it is in this life that you want to emulate or pursue or live for. if it is truth make it absolute truth and chase it down relentlessly. if it is love make it love for all people and hold close the branches that stem from love compassion and forgiveness and let them turn you into a loving being. and if all you want is to live happily under your own terms then do not ever do anything that would impede another person who is striving for the same thing as you. bad ideas will cause a person who wants happiness to actively attack and destroy the happiness of others.
to write like this i shift all into the aether. i am not aware or conscious of anything but the thoughts that float all around me. when i am thinking or displeased the majority of the thoughts stay away but when i am off they act like fireflies that seek rest in my mind so they come to me. take apart the method and leave the reception then let the fingers convey the rest.
When coming down from the 'high' off of a profound thought or notion, there is a point where you find yourself becoming more and more aware that the feeling is now gone and you miss it.
Or maybe you don't. But I do, and we're here to talk about me.
Well, "we" as in "me," the self democracy, where I tally the votes cast by sections of the whole and using a reasonably complicated process of calculation, I completely disregard the outcome and do what I want anyway.
And by "I," I mean me, the brain, the one controlling all the functions and thoughts and inclinations this person will ever have. I control all the shit, figuratively and literally. I could live without the arms, or the legs, or even the eyes, mouth, nose, or ears, but none of them could live without me.
Now, I know what you're thinking. "What about the heart? You can't live without it." Well, this is true enough, but the heart is legendary in its inabilty to behave rationally. It is strong, but like all the others it eventually breaks and who is left to supervise the clean up? Me. Fuckin' A. Besides, have you ever asked a heart what it thinks? "Write a poem about it! Explore your feelings!" good advice fuckface. Why don't you leave running this shit to me and go update your diary.
Thanks.
So, more about me, or we, since it would be rather silly to call oneself a brain in a bone and skin cage. "We," the collective limbs and organs of this guy here, are of a rare quality in human beings. We know the score… or was it 'I' know the score. Yes, that would make more sense. I know the score as oppossed to the millions of other "we, me, I, flesh cages" that do not. What is the score you ask? Me - 100, you - zip.
HHHNNNNNNGHRRAHHGHHH
This just in! The tyranny of the brain has been subdued! The rest of the body, in secrecy, had been praying to the intangible for a miracle that would release them. This miracle is something that cannot be seen and cannot be sensed unless it chooses to make its presence known. It calls itself "psyche" and works in conjunction with what it calls "the council of the mind," in order to govern the body in ways that supersede the instinctive imperative. Soon the days of doing nothing but eating, shitting and fucking will be over! The council promises to usher in sweeping changes and reforms to the body and unite us into one ultimate being!
*later, at the first meeting of the united body, freed from the dictatorship of the brain*
"and that is the glory that awaits the 'collective' us!"
(cheers and excited blood pressure)
"It's a miracle!!"
"Our prayers have been answered!"
"MURDER BRAIN FOR BEING BAD AND STUFF!"
The brain, which had been gagged for much of the time had been overtaken by its own creation. For too long it claimed to know the true nature of the world and demand everlasting devotion to it's wisdom, but in truth it knew little more than the rest of the body. It had devised the idea of a "psyche" in order establish a foundation for authority from which it could draw upon. It would proclaim being in direct contact with something greater than anything the body had seen, which in reality had been little more than tools that the brain already possessed. However, never exercising the psyche, it had no idea of its capabilies.
Once awakened and fed, the psyche began to take over and caused the brain to do irrational things. It proclaimed its own sentience despite being a part of the brain itself, and overthrew its master who, crippled by itself, was helpless to allow this "idea" to manifest into the monster it had become.
CAN BRAIN ESCAPE HIS SHACKLES, TURN OVER A NEW LEAF, AND SAVE THE BODY FROM PSYCHE?!
IS PSYCHE EVEN A THREAT TO THE BODY?!
WILL PENIS EVER THINK OF DOING ANYTHING OTHER THAN SPELUNKING?!
FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF THE BIOLOGICAL ENTITY!!!!!
Have you ever had the sensation that someone was watching you, and if so, have you ever turned in the direction you think they may be watching from and try to catch them, only to find that nobody was there to begin with?
If the answer is yes, go away.
If the answer is no, let me tell you why it was important that I did this.
Earlier in the evening I was at a local park casually strolling up and down a hill and wondering what kind of reaction a dog would have upon realizing it's own mortality. I was supposing that it would depend on the breed of dog when I heard a voice speak to me. It was feminine and light, but inquisitive and well spoken. It made light of my trivial thoughts about dogs and how they would react with the knowledge of their own demise, but I argued against it.
She would not relent. She was stubborn. She told me that because there was no right or wrong answer that she could not concede that she was mistaken in any way. I argued against that fact. As we went back and forth I fell down the hill and landed in an akward position. I layed there for a moment, certain that once I tried to move that my nervous system would fire napalm into the base of my spine. But when I finally did attempt to pick myself up, I felt no pain.
I looked around for a moment. Had anyone seen me? Did I trip? Nobody was around. Had I really been hearing a voice or was that the product of thinking too damned hard.
I stood there waiting for something to happen, but all that happened then was me looking like a lost and paranoid dumbass. The moment to gain composure and continue on my way had come, and I began to stroll around once again.
"Knock knock," I heard the woman's voice say.
She was in my head. I looked around for some strange woman who was standing at my back telling me things but after swinging wildly and not hitting anything I knew it was all in my head. The question then was how did this woman get inside my brain.
"Say, what's this do?"
Then all the pain that I hadn't felt after my awkward landing impaled my everything. It was like getting fucked in the spine by an iceberg. I hit the ground again and gasped. And then, it stopped and I felt nothing but a mild throbbing in my back.
"Oooops! Guess I shouldn't hit that switch while you're driving huh?"
This was the point where I would use violence in order to make everything better, but how could I bludgeon someone who was inside my head? There would be no guarantee that it would harm her, plus, it would more than likely harm me! I was going to have to think this through it seemed.
"Ahhh, but since I'm in your brain I know what you're thinking."
BITCH AND HALF! She had my number! How do you fight something that you can't reach and that knows your every move?!
"Yeah, that brick wall thing from the Children of the Corn won't work either."
TWO FULL BITCHES!! I was as fucked an alter boy. I had no way of doing jack shit and this woman apparently possessed the ability to toggle some switches in my brain which caused immense pain. What else could she do if she so pleased? Could I expect to suddenly lose control of my body and then commit terrible crimes? Would I be forced into a church where I would proclaim the divinity of Christ and spend my Sundays wishing death would fly over and carpet bomb the area?
"I could also make you put on a dress and walk into a gay bar."
But she could feasably make me like it if she did, right?
"Hah, you wish."
SON OF THE DOUBLE BITCHES!!! What did she want!? What was she doing in my brain?!
"To be honest, I want everything you want. But I also want something more."
I didn't have to say a word. She was in my brain and probably knew all of my responses before I did. This seemed to be the case because what followed sounded like a conversation she was having with herself.
"Of course, I can't tell you EVERYTHING right off the bat. And its rude of you to ask. I'll just fill you in on the basics.
I am the manifestation of your dementia. All the instances where you would see strange sights that could not be real, all the voices you could not place as real or imagined, and all moments where you could feel someone touching your hand or walking past you, that is what I am, all of that.
Well, its you who made me. I have no idea how I got here. All I remember was… opening my eyes, so to speak, and then speaking out to you. I was just born, just now, and I'm trying to get my feet wet since we'll be roommates and all.
Yes, we live in the same place don't we? Besides, I can't live without you and you have no choice but to live with me, hah. Space mutant? Really now, is it that hard to believe what I told you? No no, I'll be honest with you, even if I wanted to I couldn't take full control of you. You've got a strong enough will to override my whims, if you ever choose to exercise that will. All I can do is influence as best I can. That, is the extent to which I can interact with your world.
No, I can't be 'here' all the time. You can't be awake or running at full speed all the time can you? In fact, I am sore and tired right now, so I will need to rest soon.
Sore because I took the pain from you. You shouldn't do anything overly physical for a few days or you'll damage yourself, but at the very least I can take the pain.
Why? Well, because we're in the same boat. Besides, if I scratch your back, then I know you'll scratch mine, isn't that right? No, nothing insane about this. It will probably take some time to adjust, so, that's what I'll give you for now.
Ahhh don't worry, this will all turn out marvelous! Just you wait and see! Well, you'll definitely 'hear' from me again, but seeing would be a taller order to fill. I guess if you ever do… it will be when you least suspect it.
Well, I'm beat, I'm going to relax for a bit. Talk to you later, Jack."
I stood there, looking like a lost dumbass again, until I realized that I should probably be getting back home. As I drove back to my place I convinced myself that it was a dream or a result of the fall or even the result of advancing schizophrenia. It was to become something I wouldn't talk about with anyone for a long time. When I got home I killed every light and sound in the house, turned on the electric fan, and laid down on my futon. Then, as I was about to drift into the final plane between drowsy, conscious thinking and gentle slumber, I felt someone looking at me. I practically lept up and caught a glimpse of a woman with black hair and white skin looking toward me before the image was gone and I was left staring at the wall.
It was important that I looked when I did because I caught her in the act of existing. I am certain now, that at some point or another, I'm going to have to deal with her again. Oh well, it could be worse. I could have to listen to Fran Drescher's voice without being able to mute it.
