Phantasmagoria v3.0

A Little Bit of Insight

Sat, 24 May 2008 06:05:38 GMT

I am not a superstitious man.

I do believe in the possibility of things such as faeries and/or ghosts and the like.

Edit: Or God, for that matter.

I do not believe that throwing salt over my shoulder will ward off bad luck.

That being said, I'm always prompted to wonder when a streetlight goes out right as I'm passing under it.

Maybe I'll Make A Real Update Sometime...

Sun, 26 Nov 2006 00:44:54 GMT

You are The Devil

Materiality. Material Force. Material temptation; sometimes obsession

The Devil is often a great card for business success; hard work and ambition.

Perhaps the most misunderstood of all the major arcana, the Devil is not really "Satan" at all, but Pan the half-goat nature god and/or Dionysius. These are gods of pleasure and abandon, of wild behavior and unbridled desires. This is a card about ambitions; it is also synonymous with temptation and addiction. On the flip side, however, the card can be a warning to someone who is too restrained, someone who never allows themselves to get passionate or messy or wild - or ambitious. This, too, is a form of enslavement. As a person, the Devil can stand for a man of money or erotic power, aggressive, controlling, or just persuasive. This is not to say a bad man, but certainly a powerful man who is hard to resist. The important thing is to remember that any chain is freely worn. In most cases, you are enslaved only because you allow it.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

I'm Doing This 'Cause I'm Cool

Mon, 03 Jul 2006 04:29:15 GMT

LIVE TRUMPS 1.1

watch blutdieb fight

CREATE YOUR CARD

I Like This Story...

Mon, 29 May 2006 23:38:26 GMT

Took me forever to find, but eh. I wanted to post it.

One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.

Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, "Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine."

The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing.

The people stared -- how can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought? The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed.

"You must be joking," he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears."

"Yes," said the old man, "Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared. "Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands.

The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.

I thought this was cool...

Wed, 05 Apr 2006 02:17:34 GMT

"The following is the first communique from a group calling itself Unitarian Jihad. It was sent to me at The Chronicle via an anonymous spam remailer. I have no idea whether other news organizations have received this communique, and, if so, why they have not chosen to print it. Perhaps they fear starting a panic. I feel strongly that the truth, no matter how alarming, trivial or disgusting, must always be told. I am pleased to report that the words below are at least not disgusting:

Greetings to the Imprisoned Citizens of the United States. We are Unitarian Jihad. There is only God, unless there is more than one God. The vote of our God subcommittee is 10-8 in favor of one God, with two abstentions. Brother Flaming Sword of Moderation noted the possibility of there being no God at all, and his objection was noted with love by the secretary.

Greetings to the Imprisoned Citizens of the United States! Too long has your attention been waylaid by the bright baubles of extremist thought. Too long have fundamentalist yahoos of all religions (except Buddhism -- 14-5 vote, no abstentions, fundamentalism subcommittee) made your head hurt. Too long have you been buffeted by angry people who think that God talks to them. You have a right to your moderation! You have the power to be calm! We will use the IED of truth to explode the SUV of dogmatic expression!

People of the United States, why is everyone yelling at you??? Whatever happened to ... you know, everything? Why is the news dominated by nutballs saying that the Ten Commandments have to be tattooed inside the eyelids of every American, or that Allah has told them to kill Americans in order to rid the world of Satan, or that Yahweh has instructed them to go live wherever they feel like, or that Shiva thinks bombing mosques is a great idea? Sister Immaculate Dagger of Peace notes for the record that we mean no disrespect to Jews, Muslims, Christians or Hindus. Referred back to the committee of the whole for further discussion.

We are Unitarian Jihad. We are everywhere. We have not been born again, nor have we sworn a blood oath. We do not think that God cares what we read, what we eat or whom we sleep with. Brother Neutron Bomb of Serenity notes for the record that he does not have a moral code but is nevertheless a good person, and Unexalted Leader Garrote of Forgiveness stipulates that Brother Neutron Bomb of Serenity is a good person, and this is to be reflected in the minutes.

Beware! Unless you people shut up and begin acting like grown-ups with brains enough to understand the difference between political belief and personal faith, the Unitarian Jihad will begin a series of terrorist-like actions. We will take over television studios, kidnap so-called commentators and broadcast calm, well-reasoned discussions of the issues of the day. We will not try for "balance" by hiring fruitcakes; we will try for balance by hiring non-ideologues who have carefully thought through the issues.

We are Unitarian Jihad. We will appear in public places and require people to shake hands with each other. (Sister Hand Grenade of Love suggested that we institute a terror regime of mandatory hugging, but her motion was not formally introduced because of lack of a quorum.) We will require all lobbyists, spokesmen and campaign managers to dress like trout in public. Televangelists will be forced to take jobs as Xerox repair specialists. Demagogues of all stripes will be required to read Proust out loud in prisons.

We are Unitarian Jihad, and our motto is: "Sincerity is not enough." We have heard from enough sincere people to last a lifetime already. Just because you believe it's true doesn't make it true. Just because your motives are pure doesn't mean you are not doing harm. Get a dog, or comfort someone in a nursing home, or just feed the birds in the park. Play basketball. Lighten up. The world is not out to get you, except in the sense that the world is out to get everyone.

Brother Gatling Gun of Patience notes that he's pretty sure the world is out to get him because everyone laughs when he says he is a Unitarian. There were murmurs of assent around the room, and someone suggested that we buy some Congress members and really stick it to the Baptists. But this was deemed against Revolutionary Principles, and Brother Gatling Gun of Patience was remanded to the Sunday Flowers and Banners committee.

People of the United States! We are Unitarian Jihad! We can strike without warning. Pockets of reasonableness and harmony will appear as if from nowhere! Nice people will run the government again! There will be coffee and cookies in the Gandhi Room after the revolution."

Startling new underground group spreads lack of panic! Citizens declare themselves "relatively unafraid" of threats of undeclared rationality. People can still go to France, terrorist leader says.

But Everyone's Dooooing It

Thu, 16 Feb 2006 21:15:58 GMT

In my quest to be cool, I've decided (in lieu of an actual update on life, which should actually be forthcoming... relatively soon) to put up a couple... Things. Yes, that's right, things. With the people I know, I'm hoping to get some solid, interesting results. Mmmm... BRING IT ON, PEOPLE!

Thing #1 and Thing #2

Oh, If Only

Tue, 29 Nov 2005 03:07:43 GMT

Hope y'all had a good Turkey Day. I didn't really, but that was my call (not really a big fan of holiday get-togethers, sue me), but I do have Paul feeding me leftovers until he runs out. I love you man. The upcoming holiday season is either looking better or worse, not sure which. I refer to, of course, the STC work that looms on the horizon. sw00t. Anyways, hope you all got your fill of bird, and the bread that was jammed up its ass this past Thursday.

. . .

Sat, 05 Nov 2005 05:00:55 GMT

My mom sold the house.

We have to be out by December 15.

I'm not sure I could care less.

My future is looking kind of strained and fuzzy right now.

I'm starting to care more about that.

My present is leaving me a bit confused and annoyed.

I'm trying not to care too much about it.

My mom's still a terrible bitch.

I know I don't care about her anymore.

It's one of those nights where I'm tired and I don't really want to go to sleep, because I feel like I should be making some important life decisions right now. But I'm not.

I really like my LJ icon right now.

Filler, Filler, Lalalalala

Sat, 15 Oct 2005 15:34:10 GMT

blutdieb took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test!

"Wants interesting and exciting things to happen. A..."

Click here to read the rest of the results.

I Quack When I'm Mad

Sun, 04 Sep 2005 18:39:13 GMT

Until I Actually Update...

Fri, 02 Sep 2005 03:59:01 GMT

Stolen, once more, from someone else:

Post this under anonymous:

1. One secret.
2. One compliment.
3. One non-compliment.
4. One love note, but it does not have to be for me.
5. Some lyrics to a song.
6. How old you are.
7. How long we've been friends.
8. And a hint to who you are.

Yeah... I'm Kinda Bored...

Fri, 12 Aug 2005 23:17:25 GMT

Stolen from the Angel's LJ:

10 Things you've done in the past week...

10. Drove to Massachusetts
9. Read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
8. Read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince two days later
7. Failed to get a decent night sleep
6. Arranged friends/coworkers/subordinates to manage whlie I was gone
5. Actually watched the news o_o
4. Played with some cute puppies my stepmom rescued n_n;
3. Loathed
2. Discovered a new band I like
1. Drank too much Mt Dew x_o

9 of your favorite foods....

9. Steak
8. Apples
7. Cookies
6. Udon & Soba
5. Chicken Wings
4. French Toast
3. White Rice
2. Pizza
1. Anything that can be microwaved @_@

8 of your favorite things..

8. Books
7. Writing
6. My Teddy Bear
5. Sleep
4. Food
3. Loud/fun music
2. Languages
1. Falling asleep with someone in my arms

7 things you do each day..

7. (Reluctantly) wake up / Get to bed too late
6. Ruin my eardrums some more
5. Check my list of websites/email/webcomics
4. Stare blankly off into space for random amounts of time
3. Forget to eat a meal
2. Download something
1. Make myself 'pretty'

6 of your favorite songs..

6. "Mescaline" - 1200 mic's
5. "Lateralus" - Tool
4. "Herzblut" - Megaherz
3. "Engel" - Rammstein
2. "Skinnyman" - Static-X
1. "Running High" - Mr. Children

5 of your favorite stores..

5. Barnes & Noble
4. Best Buy
3. Made In Japan
2. Hot Topic
1. Centerfield

4 of your favorite shows..

4. Mythbusters
3. CSI: Crime Scene Investigators
2. Whose Line Is It Anyway
1. Jackass

3 vacations you've gone on..

3. Japan (Himeji, Kobe, Kyoto)
2. Orlando (Disney, Universal)
1. Baltimore (Otakon!)

2 of your favorite people..

2. Couldn't
1. Say

An Eternal Question?

Thu, 04 Aug 2005 04:03:02 GMT

For countless centuries, war has been waged over the breakfast table. Which is better? Orange juice or milk? Butter or cream cheese? Can your sister really deep-throat that banana? And just what makes a good waffle?! Well, in order to answer the latter we had Melissa Angel, world-renowned Wafflarian, in the studio recently for an interview:

Jeremy: So, I hear you had waffles for breakfast today. How were they?
Melissa: They were semi-good.

J: Semi-good? *insert arched brow*
Mel: Yes, semi.

J: I can't say I've ever heard of a 'semi-good' waffle... How would you describe your waffle rating system?
Mel: Well there is a "poor" waffle. Soggy bread, the syrup is the wrong brand, your hands get too sticky.
Mel: There is the "semi" waffle, Where everything is just so-so, not too soggy but not too crisp. It is a "fair" waffle.
Mel: Then there is the "excellent" waffle. Toasted to perfection, the syrup isn't too runny, and the butter is melted just right.

J: Mmhmm, mhmm. And what are your preferred brands of waffles/syrup/other waffle-type stuff?
Mel: Well, the brand doesn't necassarily matter actually. Just so long as the waffle is good. Even store brands are okay once in a while. Cheaper too, and yes, still good.

J: Syrup? Syrup is important.
Mel: Oh yes, it is. It just can't taste like sour honey.

J: Eww. Any flavors, or are you a standard maple/maple-wanna be girl? (My friend Judson would drink the peach syrup from IHOP if he could)
Mel: Peach syrup?
Now that is just wrong. Peach syrup... Syrup is not ment to be peach flavoured. Do you see any syrup coming out of peach trees? I think not. They come out of maple trees. The sap that is. That is made into syrup.
Mel: And as for this maple-wannabe. Do you think anyone would want to be maple? I sure wouldn't.

J: Fair point, fair point... Now, you've already mentioned butter. Are any other toppings besides that, and syrup of course, allowed on waffles?
Mel: No! Heavens no! Fruit is not ment for the top of a waffle. Neither are cucumbers.

J: I can't say I've ever seen cucumbers and waffles together. In fact, I've never even thought those two in the same think. Where have you seen this atrocity?
Mel: Seinfeld. [They had] pizza and cucumbers. I just substituted pizza for waffles.

J: Ick. No wonder. Moving on, though... What about the 'relatives' to waffles? Say, pancakes, or french toast?
Mel: Oh, pancakes and french toast can go with anything for all I care. They'd taste good however they were cooked. Well... Maybe not. But yea.

J: Well, that's not really your field. We forgive you. *smile* So finally, I suppose... What is your preference out of these breakfast brothers?
Mel: Oh, I'd really rather have cereal.

And there you have it, folks. Everything you'll ever need to judge the quality of your breakfast buddy: the waffle. As a side note, Miss Angel (and is she ever) went on to say that the place of consumption generally did not matter, so feel free to critique your chef's waffle-making skills wherever you go!

(We hold no responsibility for any choices you may/may not make when choosing your breakfast, and acknowledge that everyone has their own preferences. Thank you.)

Because People Follow...

Sat, 11 Jun 2005 16:21:38 GMT

List your current eight favorite songs, then pick eight other people that have to do the same.

1. Tool - Lateralus
2. Megaherz - Herzblut
3. Iron Maiden - Fear of the Dark
4. Rammstein - Engel
5. Cosmicity - I Want You
6. Silvertear - So Deep
7. Nothingface - Ether
8. 1200 Mics - Mescaline

Something like that, anyways (and in no particular order)... And since I don't really know how to 'tag' people, I'm just gonna tell everyone to do it, and hope that eight do (some people take stuff from my LJ for some reason...)

All your song are belong to me!

I Find This Offensive!

Sat, 11 Jun 2005 15:03:45 GMT

Last night was... Interesting, to say the least. That is, it was interesting until I unlatched the soiled towel from my shoulders and stopped pretending I was Superbum at the Field Days. No, I jest - I wouldn't deign to cause the masses attending the fair to delve into self-loathing based on my presence alone. I knew that they'd wind up at the beer tent eventually, and find the truth in their third or fourth dixie cup of fermented hops by about eight-thirty anyways. Actually, let me rewind a little bit to set the mood for the evening:

Earlier in the day, Judson and I began a 3000-point game of Warhammer against Matthew. Matthew, that stupid samurai (I joke!), decided to kill some of my Skinks, which made me sad. I don't really remember much esle about that. Moving on, my car's cancer finally managed to prove itself malignant, and thus worthy of being cursed at for quite nearly half an hour. Quite a feat for me, I assure you, whose vocabulary of insults and swearwords is rather quite limited. Anyfuckingway, this changed my plans a bit, as I now needed to find a way to get John to and from work tonight. Hooray for Judson the taxi! (hint, hint -> he works for Faygo!) The show went well, I guess, but who really cares?

Anyways, we finally get to my place, and my brother has basically scared off any decent people from whom I may or may not have had a chance receiving fellatio. Regardless, you understand the principle. This ragtag crew, at first, consisted of approximately three males - assumedly one who was at least twenty-one - and seven or so females. And over forty bottles of alcoholic whatever. Okay, whatever, Judson and I were hungry, so the three of us decided to traipse around the Field Days for some overpriced food. Why Judson felt it necessary to spend five dollars on some fried dough topped with tree jizz, I don't know. I hope he enjoyed it though. I ate some stuff, spent about five dollars total. Not bad. It's about as close to being fat as I can get, so whatever. At any rate, the clock wound down, and we headed back to my house (because that's where the car was - silly us!), and lo! there were more people there. Egads. We, the three, plus a friend we picked up at the Field Days, went to Denny's for coffee a bit of coffee coffee.

John was superduper and got us some crayons and coloring thingies. I fucking stomped every four year-old that had ever submitted a picture to that place, then wiped their underdeveloped bodies off the floor with their mommas labia. And I did it with only three crayons. Bitches. That was all that really mattered about that part of the night. We went back to my house, again.

Now, there were just underage people lying about, and as I had just ingested a stomach's worth of saturated fats, half a dozen cups of 24-hour service coffee, and proved myself superior to some toddlers, I felt pretty good about myself. Strong like bull, if you will. Many had begun to pass out, either from drinking too much, or from the lack of energy due to vomiting up anything that their pathetic bodies could have broken down for nutrition. Or sexual exhaustion, I suppose - there was, indeed, one fellow that was passed out naked on my brother's bed. At any rate, there were beer cans and bottles strewn everywhere, many of the floors smellt of bile, and there were people in my room.

Oh fuck no.

As quick as I could I leapt up the stairs, taking them four at a time in an adrenaline-fueled pseudo-rage. I kicked in the door to my room, which was open anyways, but, again, it's the principle of the thing that counts. There were two girls lying in my bed, but instead of making out like normal, drunk, teenage girls (of any age) should be doing, they were just sort of lying there 'sleeping.' Well, not only was I fucking pissed that these people were in my room without my permission, but I was still a little on the grumpy side from not being able to get my winky whacked earlier. I therefore dropped my pants, exposing my ever-erect (dude, just ask any of my friends) super wang, and stood at the edge of the bed, eyeing the girl closest.

She was actually pretty cute - I'd been eyeing her the first couple of times we checked in - and despite her being around thirteen or so (I think I heard someone say) I felt that we made that 'special' sort of connection. So I felt no remorse in just jamming my cock right into her eye. I'm pretty sure that if I had been more traditional about it, things would have been okay, and there would likely have been a lot less screaming on her part, but like I said, I was a little upset, and really I wanted to try something new. I guess she was fine by it, because after awhile the screaming subsided and she just went limp to enjoy it. Let me tell you, that was nice. I was so caught up in things that I didn't even realize we'd woken up her friend, who was staring at us like we were fucking crazyass retards, or had the plague or some shit... Until it dawned on me that she was just upset we hadn't asked her to join.

Who am I to say no, right? The first girl was tired, so I let her go back to sleep on the floor while I crawled across the bed to girl number two. She wasn't as good-looking as the first one, but still not bad, so why not? She was sitting against the wall with her mouth wide open, so it was pretty easy to tell what she wanted - and I let her have it. She must not have had much practice, because she started doing some weird things with her head, but when I finally got a firm grip on her face things started to go much better. She had a purdy mouth n_- Now it usually takes me a while to get going, but I got hard and came again pretty fucking fast, which is just downright amazing, and it got me thinking... Blood must be the most underrated lubricant/aphrodisiac in the world! Or at least here in Apalachin, anyways.

The power of my spunk was just too much for poor girl number two to handle, and she passed out on the spot as well, but she'd done her job, so I let the two of them sleep and left my room. Best rent I ever collected! However, just thinking about what I'd just done was getting me excited again, and Mr. Happy suggested we take a look in my brother's room where the couple had been doing the nasty before I got back home. The dude was just lying passed out on Sean's bed which was totally cool, because I knew exactly how trying this kinda shit could get, and the girl was curled up on my brother's floor. She had her clothes back on, which I took to mean she had enough energy left in her for another round - she was just chillin for now 'cause her man was out of commission for a bit.

"Don't worry dude, I'll finish her off for ya."

Too bad girl number two had sucked all the lube off of my dick, and the way things were going tonight, I was finishing pretty fast. I wanted to do this boy proud, yanno? Lucky for me my brother is a goddamned sociopath and has knives just lying around his room. I hefted the closest one in my hand, walked over to the guy, and drove it into his abdomen. One quick slice was enough - which surprised the hell out of me - and it provided us with more than enough of the good stuff than we'd probably ever use. I also fished around in the guy and cut out some of his intestines 'cause I figured he was sleeping and could spare them for a little bit. He actually got all uppity during this, and I started to worry that he was a little possesive, but once he saw what I was doing, I think, he started to calm down, and eventually went back to sleep. Cool guy.

Anyways, the girl woke up during my little bit of thoughtfulness, which was cool and all 'cause I didn't really want to start without her. She was so amazed (let's face it, I really am amazing) that she just sat there while I tore down her pants and pushed her to her knees. I wrapped the guy's intestine around the base of my dick all nice and snug so that I wouldn't come too soon, and entered her from behind. Better than girl number two, not as hot as girl number one, but c'mon, pussy is pussy, right guys? And man was I tearing that shit up! It went on for so long, though, that I started to lose my erection - but I had an idea! I reached over to the guy, slathered my jimmy in some more wunderblut, and made a nice swift change to the gal's rear repository.

Man, you should have seen the look on her face! I actually laughed at first, but soon realized that if I didn't keep my concentration, things were going to get messy pretty fast. Her ass was seriously that sweet. It was too good to just not go full throttle, so did I ever let her have it. She was really nice, though, keeping quiet about it (didn't want to wake the people downstairs, even though I like it when the girls make a little noise), so I gave her the courtesy of a reacharound. I couldn't take much more of it though so I finally ripped off the guy's organ from my organ (haha, get it!?) and emptied myself right there in her. Whew, was that ever an adventure! She just sort of collapsed in a heap when I pulled out, which was totally understandable, and I wiped myself off with her blanket before I pulled my pants up and left.

I figured it would be kind of awkward (among other things) in the morning if I were to stay overnight, even if it was my house and my room, so I crept out as quietly as I could, and found my crew downstairs just hanging around talking. I left with John and Jud after talking for awhile, and crashed on another friend's couch. Now I just need to find a way to get to work tonight. Yay -_-;

Peacenuts.

Hey Nani Nani and a Ho-Ho-Ho

Thu, 09 Jun 2005 02:28:24 GMT

"Well, not so much enchanted as lubricated, I hope."

Mon, 06 Jun 2005 05:32:46 GMT

So... I couldn't sleep last night. In fact, I can't sleep most nights unless I'm really bushed. I just sort of lie there on my floor (yeah, I sleep on my floor, while this hugeass bed remains unused not two feet from me) and stare up at the ceiling, or the wall, depending on how I'm positioned at that point. Anyways, last night was one of those nights where I really couldn't sleep, and I wanted to do something not only to tire myself out, but be someone constructive. So I wrote another story. I still haven't figured out whether I like writing the Under the Influence series, or not. It's good to get something written, yes... But for the most part it's an outlet for negativity. I dunno. I'm not sure if I'll ever figure out if it's good or bad - I'll just keep writing them.

Anyways, since I know people don't check my profile for updates/visit my website like, ever (with the exception of a select few), I'm going to post the story behind a cut here. Read it or not, you'll get an idea of what was keeping me up this time, or you won't. There's so much I could say about this series, but if you don't read them normally, you probably don't care enough anyways, so you'll just have to read the rest, or deal with it. *smile*

It wasn't unusual. He'd spent many nights simply gazing up at his ceiling. He had his own personal sky there - if he looked long enough, small specks of light seemed trapped in the plaster, sparkling just like stars in the dark of his room. He lay on his back, covers thrown to the side, just staring. His hands were folded behind his head, a prop. Black wings flowed out to either side, extended from a bare torso and lost in the shadows of his room. That was unusual. Maybe tonight was different.

He couldn't see the stars. It wasn't for lack of existence - for as long as he could remember they'd always been there, regardless of anything else. His mind just seemed unable to focus tonight... Which would normally be a good thing. He often found it hard to sleep. Just when his body was ready to give out, his mind would kick into overdrive, and he'd be forced to remain conscious. Unable to move, but aware... Like someone buried alive in a horror story or something. His mind became flooded with random thoughts that he couldn't tune out this late at night. Non sequiters to life, but apparently important enough to keep him from getting a good nights sleep.

Except for tonight. He knew all too well why this was happening tonight.

"I blame this on you, you know."

~Oh really? And why's that?~ Even the voice sounded tired. Served it right. At least once it'd be getting some payback.

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be dealing with this right now. Ergo, your fault." That didn't explain anything and he knew it. But fuck, it wasn't like the voice didn't know what he was talking about. That, and he didn't want to be the first to actually breach the topic - it would bring along a fresh batch of thoughts that he wanted to put off for as long as possible.

~Excuse me? What the fuck are you talking about? You were perfectly yourself when it happened and you know it. Fuck. You.~

"Like hell I was! I never act like that... I don't know how you did it, but you wore my wall down for a day or something... And look what happened!"

~Oh, come off it. You make yourself sound like fucking Superman. You're human for gods sakes - humans make mistakes. Get over it and shut up.~

He could hear the voice sighing in exasperation. "Sometimes I debate that latter bit, but anyways... That was one huge fucking mistake. You'd think I'd have noticed that one coming." It didn't come out quite as snide as he would have liked, and he knew why. Sometimes he grasped at straws that weren't even there, in hopes that he could fumble his way through a believable bluff. This one felt different, though. He wondered if it wasn't due to the urgency with which the matter presented itself.

He'd made a few mistakes in the past, and it was true - he was human (enough, at least) and therefore prone to moments of blatant stupidity, ill fortune, or lack of proper thought. But this one was a fucking doozy, enough so that he considered it the biggest fuck-up of his life. Of all the demons that kept his eyes from shutting at night, this one had sharper claws, eyes of hatred, the most teeth. And every time he thought he had them beaten down, like a fucking General this one would rear its head and start marching its troops back to the surface. Goddamnit.

~Ever think that you're just deluding yourself, kid? That maybe the wrong shit just happened at the right time, and even though you dealt with it the best you could, it still raped you up the ass like a fucking eight-dicked wildebeest on X?~ Yes. All the fucking time. It took him a moment to unclench his jaw, and realize he'd nearly torn a good chunk of the hair from the back of his head. So, if it was right at the time, why was he getting so bent on it now?

Well, that was easy enough. He had few enough happy thoughts that he could count them on one hand with room to spare, but lately thoughts were becoming less and less important. Images and words were becoming more and more forgotten, but the feeling... Well, wasn't that what it was all about? It was always the feeling, the purpose, the intent that, as long as it came across right, everything was well in the kingdom. That he could remember... And he missed it. A lot. So much, in fact, that he was beginning to erase it from his life so that the lack thereof simply wouldn't matter... And just the thought of that pissed him off.

Of course, the other thing that bothered him right now was the worry that he wasn't channeling this... Frustration properly. "I blame that on you, too."

~Fuck you? Just because you want to kill someone doesn't mean it's my fault...~ There wasn't much conviction to that one. Apparently the voice could pull stuff out of its metaphoric ass as well.

"Ha! That's what you're there for, isn't it?" Crap. They'd been here before, and he knew where it was going. "No, nevermind... Stupid question."

~Hey, you got it for once. Have a doggy treat.~ Motivation and facilitation - two completely different fucking things.

"Bah." That summed it up pretty nicely, really. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to push away all thoughts. The void usually helped him sleep, if he could keep it going for more than ten seconds. Something within him just didn't seem to want to cooperate tonight, though... And again, he thought he knew why. It wasn't so much happy thoughts - although, daydream-like fantasies were simply fucking running rampant tonight - as the memory of a feeling that these fantasies were being imbued with. He wanted it back so badly that just the memory of it was enough to drive back the emptiness that had fostered in its wake. For a bit, anyways.

And maybe that was part of the reason he was loathe to sleep as well... The distant fear that when he woke up, the feeling would be gone. Maybe. There was so much to this, and he was getting kind of sick of it.

~Geez... Why don't you just kill the kid and get it over with?~

"I'll bet you'd love to help with that one." It was certainly becoming more tempting, but more than implausible. Complications beyond belief, not counting the biggest barrier of all - his conscience.

~Yeah, that thing'll fuck with you every time. 'Cept when you hacked up those hoo-~

"I remember. No need to remind me." Facilitation could be bad enough, though.

He sighed. There didn't seem to be anything else to do.

~Looks like you're just going to have to rely on that patience you're always so proud of.~

"...Looks like..." He rolled onto his side, scooping up the worn body pillow beside him, and wrapped his arms around it. In lieu of an actual somebody, this was the best he had. One more sigh, and he tried to void his mind again. He was tired, and he hoped the conversation had worn his brain down a bit, too. He hated these 'time will tell' things - they always seemed to fuck him over - but he had no choice. A blanket of jet feathers encased him as he drifted off, forcing himself to be content with the happiness he could dredge up from memory, illusion... And that little light inside that he relied so much on.

There was always hope.

And that... Seemed like a pretty crappy way to come out of LJ hiding... But whatever. Fun stuff in the future!

Love y'all. Peace and pancakes.

Prove This Wrong!

Sun, 29 May 2005 22:50:39 GMT

Ah, I love stealing these from other peoples' LJs... Not that I believe them most of the time, but sometimes the randomness comes out in things I've heard before. However! I love it when people prove them wrong, so have at it folks:

What Makes You.. by SheBangs12
Your name?
Your gender?
What makes you sexy?	Your hair
What makes you pretty?	Your smile
What makes you loveable?	How amazing you are
What makes you fun?	Your positive attitude
What makes you irresistable?	Your sweetness
What makes you cute?	How you talk

Quiz created with MemeGen!

Call It Aftermath...

Thu, 28 Apr 2005 04:42:41 GMT

Well, at least I tried.

Passover and Me

Sun, 24 Apr 2005 02:38:36 GMT

So, today's Passover. Something I hadn't realized until just last night... Not that it really meant much at the time. You'd think that with the religious background and exposure that I've got, I'd at least know something about it - but I really don't. I was talking to Linka today (this cute Jewish girl I met at the AIDS walk... prolly more on her later?) and she decided to help me out with the story of Passover. It went something like this:

"Jews in Egypt were like "Damn it, the Pharoah is killing the male kids," so then God was like "Yo Moses you should free the Jews." So Moses goes and says to Pharoah, "Let my people go, bitch," and then Pharoah is like, "Nah, I like being evil."

So then god does some plagues on the Egyptians, and there were 10, and finally the last one was that all the first born children died. But the Israelis painted their doors with lamb's blood so the Angel of Death was like, "Oh, I guess they're cool," so their sons didn't die. So then the Pharoah got all sad and said "Leave now!" So the Jews got all their gold, money, jewelry, and possessions
and then they were like, "Shit, we forgot to bake our bread," so they took some flour, water, and salt and put it on their backs and made matzah. And then they got lost in the desert for 40 years. Oh yeah and they made the Red Sea part.

And that's the short story of passover

So in celebration of this holiday we don't eat bread for 7 days, or anything leavened, and we have sedars."

So there you have it, folks. That's the story of Passover, or at least what little I could glean from the conniving mind of a beautiful Jew. I was also referred to a spectacular website, in which a pop icon attempts to help little children understand the complexities related to this wonderful holiday: Seda Club.

I hope this has been helpful to you all. In the future I hope to post comprehensive guides to 'Jesus is Dead Day' and 'Dress-Up and Get Candy Night'

Peace peoples.

Mmm... Mmm... Good

Sat, 16 Apr 2005 00:30:55 GMT

So, every once in awhile I get the urge (okay, so it's more like the emotional need) to write up a story, which I post on my website. Now, normally I tell a few people who enjoy reading my stories, see what they think, laugh at them, and wait until something in life prompts me to write another one. At least, that's how it goes with my most prominent series. I call it Under The Influence, named so because I just sit and write to a looped song... More detail is up on the website. (I also have a couple more stories up there off the main website, the link to which can be found at the top of my LJ page, or by hacking off the last .html tag from the previous URL).

So why the hell am I rambling on about this? Well, last week I wrote another one, and I haven't propegated it much... But I figure here's as good a place as any, yanno? So, what'd I'd really appreciate is if you've got the time, give Under The Influence: Passive a readthrough, and tell me what you think about it. I welcome any constructive criticism on any of my works, as well as attempted analyses and what have you.

If you don't like to read, think they're crap, or just don't feel like giving comments, then you don't have to, right? Thanks a bunch.

Peace peoples.

Fortune Cookie!

Sun, 10 Apr 2005 17:50:54 GMT

My 'fortune' cookie for today: "Find release from you cares, have a good time."

With Links Inspired By John

Wed, 06 Apr 2005 01:52:26 GMT

So... Things seem to be going decently well, I think. Nevermind the fact that this past week has been one of the busiest and least relaxing weeks I've ever had. Nothing too terribly interesting happened, though, I don't think. Sin City was pretty good, though. I'd like to go see that again sometime. I honestly don't remember much else besides Rocky, which wasn't a whole lot different than usual, but a good experience as always. Then there was the flood, and I think we were the only people on our road to not get hit with a crapload of water. I kept thinking of swimming... Too bad it was too dirty and too cold.

So, enough about the past. Let's talk about the future!

-Leslie's home next week. She'll probably be busy as hell, but anything I get to see of her is one-up in my book. We're also dragging her off up to Utica to see Lisel. That should prove to be an interesting weekend. Really looking forward to seeing her, even if I have no bloody clue what to expect XD Whatever. Can't complain, right?

-I think I actually figured out what I want to do with my languages. Now, I could work in International Politics (like, UN stuff), or I could do Int'l Business... And either of those would net me quite a bit of money... But, I think I'd rather travel the world teaching English. It seems like lots of countries are hurting for English teachers, and I like helping people, traveling, and whathaveyou... So that seems like an awfully good idea. What do you all think? INPUT!

-I have a couple jobs lined up for now. I'm DJing OFA's dance on the 16th, which should prove to be pretty interesting. John and I are going to have to start binging on 'popular' music now, but I think we'll be okay. What I'm more worried about, however, is the fact that I'm supposed to be playing music for this 'Miss Aphrodite' contest thing at BU... And I have no clue what to play. I'm probably just going to plop John in the seat and give him most of the money. S'fine by me. Also, STC is moving, so I get to clock hours hauling stuff around Binghamton and painting and stuff. Pretty easy stuff, so I'm happyish about that. (Note to self: Get Lisel the BSMF schedule)

-On the 17th I'm joining in the AIDS walk at Recreation Park, as part of the fundraising team for STAP (Southern Tier AIDS Prevention). They asked the Rocky Cast (and fans!) to show up and walk for them... In Rocky garb! So, if y'all want to see me trekking three miles in a miniskirt and fishnets, come on out then, and support bad movies and safe sex!

So... That's pretty much that. I know you all love me n_n;

Sugoi!

Fri, 25 Mar 2005 02:32:21 GMT

I, Uh... Guess I'm Lucky?

Wed, 23 Mar 2005 13:10:03 GMT

(Okay, so the quiz automatically flips the second choice to 'Nose Job' when it reloads, but don't worry - it still actually remembers your real choice. I chose: New Butt for this one.)

Your Life as a Celebrity by Karen_Walker
username
reason for being famous
plastic surgery you've had done
your tabloid scandal	sex addiction
your stalker	jinwicked
your best friend
your nemesis
the tabloids think you're dating
you're really dating
your secret lover
your bitter ex
how long you stay in the spotlight	you're a classic. you'll always be famous.

Quiz created with MemeGen!