Humble

Ponce Fordure was the greatest talker in all the land. What he said didn’t always need to be the most important or on the most interesting subject, but his words carried like the loose feathers of a dove just sprinkling upon the unwashed faces of the masses, filling their ears with the soft avian folicles of beauty; O’ how his words tickled their inner ear and stuck to their dirt encrusted slymy-

Anyway, because of his powers of a-speechcraft, he often found that he had no need for money. Ponce lived in a great big house and he himself became a great big person for he was not in want for anything. The people often listened to what he had to say on the balcony of that great big house at 4 in the morning. Though no one quite remembered what it was thanks to all the laudlum that was so popular in those days.

Going out Ponce would hike up his pantaloons, snap his stocking into place, straiten his gurdle, be sure that the third button of his fourth ruffled undershirt was sufficiently fastened to the collar ruffle of his 2nd over-vest, afix seven red bows on the tail of his ilustrious wig, buckle his shoes, take a bath, change into his outerwear, and be sure to smack the cane child on the way out for safe passage on the muddy streets. Wherever he went he was recognized and the good people waved and smiled and said “Frandurdlee dee do pop zing!” Towards his area. 

When walking into the bankers, all that would need be said on the part of Ponce was “Gud dey.” And the banker would lavish the man in an endless stream of apple turnovers. It was a serious affair.

It became that Ponce had forgotten who he was before he was known so well, in fact he forgot what he was known so well for. The people who he spoke to no longer seemed like people and he was perhaps some kind of God among them… 

Thus, 4 years later began the second stupidest war in all history, the invasion of Holland by the Filthy army of the Great Ponce. Since that day whenever someone is acting like a freakin ponce, you call them that so they don’t invade Holland. 

 

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FML

My life is like an insane carousel

and I don’t know how to stop it

If i can’t slow it down

I think I’m going to vomit

Everything around blurs

Round and around it goes

faces repeating in the haze

in my jolting highs and lows

as my body swings from here to there

I hang on with an iron grip

faster and faster the colors whirl

The moments cracking like a whip.

And I wonder how this can be real

how can it be reality?

when did I get on the ride?

and where will I be at the ride’s finality?

Who are the spectators whose eyes meet mine?

Who is the operator that spun me through time?

Through meetings and thoughts and all things gone wrong

they spin through my mind and yet still I did not fall.

 

 

[image by sewer-pancake]

Suit.

So for the past week and a half I’ve been hibernating within a large comforter and youtube. I did not see the light of the sun for easily four days and resolved that the world would carry on just fine without me and that the source of all my problems was just from getting too involved with the people of planet earth and thus resolved to ignore the world completely. I watched a lot of this rpg stream thing called Thrilling Intent and kind of let that influence the in-and-out-dream-states I periodically went through. I figure if people spend all day doing drugs and whatnot, what would be wrong with dissociating time and reality for a long time with just my brain mind’s stories to entertain me. At least before immediately having amnesia about whatever glorious adventures i was going on in my dream states.
I’d be brought back from dreams with this great feeling of happiness and fulfillment and a glimmer of maybe a memory, but like everything it fades before I can grasp what it was that gave me this good feeling. Then I would go back into remembering that I was ignoring everyone and the regrets of messed up social situations and ruined relationships start all over again with vivid detail and I go back to telling myself i just need to stop with people and ignore the world.
I had all this free time and I used the excuse that i was feeling sick to completely put off having to deal with any engagements of any kind. I haden’t seen the doctor in a while, the dentist keeps calling me, and I have to write a bunch of content, and it’s all hanging over me in a cloud of anxiety, but i just resolve to continue watching trailer park boys for another four hours as time goes on outside my little world.
By the fourth day my mind was consumed by the finite nature of life and death.
Anyway thank jebus I had to go to work at my minimum wage job eventually, or I’d still be there wasting away. The biggest thing that keeps me from going outside is that I wonder what I’m going to do out there in the world. I feel way better when I just pick something and do it.Today I decided to play dress up and I put on a shirt with a tie and wore my Grand Pa’s old trench coat just to go to the library to get work done (those four walls in my house are a place of insanity now), yet wearing the suit jacket also had another effect, I gained a +2 adult status and made appointments with my doctor and dentist after calling my boss about schedule stuff. My second advice would be dress like you’re the shit and you will feel like the shit and other people will be like “right this way sir” when you talk to them.
Anyway I put my adult clothes on and felt better, I even did a little song and dance with my grandpa’s jacket on about how much of an adult I am. It went something like this:

Look at me,
I’m An Adult,
Look at me,
I’m an Adult,
getting stuff done,
woohoo!

 

Childeren’s book idea.

Today is another day
By this guy

Hey, it’s okay, today is another day!

To live and learn and find a new way,

To do all those things you’re good at,

like walk and run and jump and play!

To see all the people that you know go about their day,

and say hi to them as they go on their way.

Odillaly! Callooh Calay!

Enjoy the time while they have it to stay,

performing life’s little goshdarned play

while the cold embrace of the universe surrounds you

and strips away your ego

turning your vibrant achievement’s to particulates of grey,

Swaddles you in the comfort of nothing

and upends your hopeful attempts to survey

 

Titanic gulfs of interest amid existential parlays

Trying to chase your “true” potential day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day:
until the sound of that word makes you sick to your stomach and you realize that it’s all just time happening, night day it has no real meaning than it’s direct effect on when we do stuff and it’s all slipping away into the vast cauldren of bubbling something while our microscopic world spins through space around a small blip of light which is fifty million times bigger than the bacteria that live in our stomachs to help us digest cuz we’re an entire ecosystem, yeah OUR BODIES ARE AN ECOSYSTEM for small organisms who meet the same requirements for life as us because we can’t rationally draw a line (I guess it’s somewhere around viruses but that’s beside the point because the fucking scope of small things to big things is so mind boggling that I’m jaded to everything else now and I don’t know what has value anymore so I latch onto set ideals of what should be values and smoke and drink to relax myself from that constant factor and don’t close parentheticals because barriers are an illusion….

um

….But hey, It’s okay, today is another day

To make the story change

to figure out a better way

to laugh and love and jump and play

Odillaly! Callooh Calay!

Today is another day.

“Hey what’s up?”

I’m so bad at people and making decisions….but don’t feel bad for me, I don’t think I deserve it …oh god now I’m saying too much and you’re all looking at me and now I don’t know what to say cuz it’s just gonna dig a deeper hole where it gets complicated and people will want more explanations or to comfort me or they just won’t care at all and I don’t know if I can bear it if I say all this stuff and put myself and my feelings out on the line and then getting nothing in return but blankness and whatever because I equate people liking me to my own self worth and I can’t help it and I end up ashamed of myself for even bothering because I’ll know people will be making opinions of me based on what I say like “looking for attention” or “wow that’s sad” or even “What’s wrong” which are stuff that I think about other people sometimes because I’m selfish and I constantly need validation, but don’t bother  to validate others all the time, but they might not even want my validation cuz why would they have the same issues as me? and I’m not asking for you to care or worry about me because those are all the sorts of things I don’t want because I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m okay, don’t worry about me or think about me but DON’T GO AWAY because I’m afraid of dying alone and being alone and dying in general, but I keep making mistakes and driving people  away and why cant everyone just get off of eachother’s case and maybe I’m just on my own case or everyone is a jury and they are constantly standing over me to the point where all of humanity is just this faceless black shadow shrouding out the sky beyond it’s horrid godlike eye that looks at me when I go to a bar or walk down the street or register to vote and it watches me telling me I’m not worth your time because I’ve fucked up so many times before and it’s going to happen again and I don’t know if the eye is right or if I make it right because I don’t want to fail and I want people to like me because I validate myself by people liking me and I can’t keep track of everyone or even want to keep tabs on people or be involved with people because of the jury shadow eye thing and the longer time I spend with people the easier it is for me to hurt them because I’m bad at people and making decisions…but don’t feel bad for me, i don’t think I deserve it…now I’ve said too much the hole is very deep now and I don’t know if I have some kind of problem but all the online tests I take say that I’m positively average and on the one hand that should be good but a uniqueness is necessary to stay sane and I wanna believe that I’m special like my momma would say but I’m not special and that’s okay I’m fine with that so I’m all myself and If I’m supposed to be average that might mean that most people have the same thoughts as me and that means that they can maybe relate to having thoughts like me and maybe that might mean that….something. So anyway…no I’m gud.

Nono’s Store

We were all living at Aunt Nono’s store at the time: My Father Kevin and Mother Nancy as well as my Younger brother Ryan. Aunt Nono was in California when it all started so we had no idea where she might have been. The electricity was out for a few months and so we were still getting used to making fires and lighting the old oil lamps Nono kept around the antique store. It had a cozy back room with a fireplace, all wood paneled walls. The front room was about as boring as any store front, and it’s big front windows saw through to the strip mall enclave outside.

I was never a big user of technology and my parents grew up in the 80’s so I don’t think the internet crashes really hit us as bad. Their big thing was the lack of comforts. It took hours to boil the course rice from the bag we salvaged and our clothes stank from lack of any running water to clean them. It bothered me too, but I could see it bothered them more.

But my brother, he never lived in a world without phones and the internet. Even as we sat by the fireplace with the pot boiling rice and the low firelight flickering across our downtrodden faces, he would take out his precious phone and the foreign blue-white LED light would splatter into the dark. His eyes wide and grasping for hope that he would get a connection again. Each time, it became worse to see; I just wanted to take it from him and throw it into the fire, but I could see it gave him hope and that was the resource that could afford any cost.

“Why don’t you just throw that damn thing away!” my mother said. Her face twisted with frustration as she huddled under Aunt Nono’s blanket.

My brother said nothing but clicked refresh on the unopened web page.

“Didn’t you hear your mother!” my Dad said by the firelight. He threw in a leg to an antique chair and the smoke smelled like varnish.

“Maybe it came back up! The government was trying to bring it back in places.”

He clicked refresh again and I could see tears in his eyes. I reached over and put a hand on his. He looked over suddenly with wide eyes.

“You’ll waste the battery.” I said

Slowly he clicked away the screen and put it back in his pocket.

“We’ll try again when we can move.”

The first month or so we had to live this way, sitting by the fire waiting for the rice was full of conversation. We’d reminisce over things and the places we went and how things might get closer to how they were. I always knew that things would never go back to how they were. I didn’t say anything, but I think they knew.

Now we just sat by the fire, watching the flames like the enigma of life. The only sound now the lapping of its magic tenderals on the pot, the snapping of ancient wood, and the occasional bolt of thunder beyond the thin confines of the house. There was no telling if it was natural thunder or not. The silence with each other was a fearful and tense comfort.

We had to find things to occupy ourselves. Nono’s store had a collection of strange knives and I learned pretty well how to throw them and a series of marks embedded into the far wood panels of the wall showed practice. My favorite was a sort of curved knife with a curved handle of bone with a large pommel at the end. I would idly learn how to spin it between my fingers. I taught my brother as well.

“I’m gonna look outside.” I said, standing.

My family looked at me.

“Be careful.” My mom said.

“I’ll look too.” My brother said and got up.

Beyond the thin wooden door was the storefront, still full of junk and antiques which were now of little value except to burn. An old globe, the kind you’d see in old movies in some rich guy’s study, stuck out among brass poles to a disassembled trundle bed. Coffee tables and handcrafted chairs with floral patterns on their cushions from a bygone but not a dissimilar era.

The big glass windows that looked out to the big parking lot showed the rubble and deep holes gouged into the tarmac. The other stores in the old strip mall plaza were dark. Old cars, either smashed into twisted metal or burned to a solemn husk littered the cracked and jaunted pavement. In the distance, a tall building was engulfed in flame. It had been burning for two days.

The sky was clouded with a low overcast that had been present for nearly a month, and tiny speckles of rain formed on the glass panes. Under my poncho and my brother under his blanket, we moved to the window and looked up. Beyond the clouds flashes of orange light could be seen and their mystery was terrifying and out of our control.

The two of us just looked and said nothing for a long moment.

“What do you think is going on?” My brother finally said as booms and rumbles reached our feet.

“I don’t know. The government could be trying to fight them.”

Suddenly an object burst from the clouds far away. Behind it carried a streamer of blue flame and debris broke away and spiraled in streaks of blue.

“look!” My brother said.

The object became more clear, and it seemed to be nearing us. An aircraft of some strange design. I couldn’t see any wings and my brother adjusted his old rayban glasses to see better.

“Get back.” I said as the craft broke apart further, it’s hulk rocketing down.

The craft struck the burning building and the largest part skipped off of it in a shower of fire and rubble. It moved very fast now in our direction and crashed against the smashed pavement at the edge of the parking lot. The sound was a tumult and the ground shuddered under our feet as it came to rest at the far end of the plaza.

From what I could see, it was not a government plane or design at all. Wordlessly we watched it as blue flames rose up to the heavens.

From the side a door could be seen opening and we pressed up to the glass to see. Several small blue humanoid creatures exited it and milled about the wreck, they had weapons of some kind and red spines flaring off of their heads. At the distance we were, it was hard to tell what they were doing, but they were the survivors.

“It’s them.” I said, and the primal fear took hold. We looked at each other and both bolted back to our parents.

“We NEED to go.” I said

Mom and Dad both looked up at us, breathing heavy.

“What is it?” My dad said standing.

“A ship or something just fell and some of them  are out there in the plaza.”

We took no time to hurry our things together. The hunger was what lead my dad to strain the half cooked rice, pouring the water over the fire and make for the door last with the pot in his hand. We left the embers for whomever might find it.

The four of us moved swiftly as we could out into the woods next to the highway and we did not stop moving until dawn rose the world into a grey.

5/6/15

A whisper runs through my mind,

for forgotten realms and lost times,

that the past is set and so clear to read,

and today is so muddled in future’s greed.

This is how the past has unfurled.

But how will the future be discovered?

Mind’s fire.

Circulating Spirals of uncertainty rise and retreat.

Dark forms burn in my brain, casting secret shadows from clear flame,

releasing Angels and Demons, both pure and profane.

Coals burn hot with life filling my soul

And yet the darkened logs weigh heavy as all toil.

flames in my head grope at the sky

like a hornet’s nest, swirling fears and lies

biting notions of a burning will

to fight, what love, and who to kill.

It all seems useless.

The pressure strains in multitudes

smoke of all lost and ash of all dead

only substance, white-orange and lapping

is the fire in my whirling world

destined to disperse.

Yet feed the flames again and again,

I catch onto new worlds whether living or dead.

Evil

It’s all just one big misunderstanding.

Two men with PTSD trying to tell each other to get their lives together where theirs’ aren’t falling apart.

Two women talking about rape as though they mean the same thing.

A drunkard, a junkie, a smoker, and a leper talking about what a party is.

A miner and a hippie talking about work.

A dominatrix, a furry, a priest, and a textbook talking about sex.

Rich and poor talking about money.

Colors talking about race and rainbows.

The utter Fucking depravity of misunderstandings.