Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Dear Emily - III

Raging barrages of rusted shells. Whistling whispers of demise. When will the damned structure collapse? The bearings have dissipated millennia ago yet the frame is held by the sheer stubborn will of denial.
From the first step towards oblivion taken by our kind, I joined in wholeheartedly; resistance is not futile, it is silly.
Yet these deluded instances decide to malfunction and rebel; decide to fight for life. Life? Life.
Life has passed its ruling and we are not to participate any longer. Yet they insist they fight for it while rebelling against.

Well life has its own army, and i'm the damned General. The catalyst. And their rusted shells will not pierce the armor forged from a purpose that represents inevitability. Everything worth making is worth destroying.

That makes sense right? It sounds like it does. It must then..

The sandbags were shredded to a husk and the bullets were inching closer, from flits to thuds, from thuds to blood. I guess its not an appropriate time to question the bias of poetry on my life choices.

I signaled the 3 other raiders of my crew to disperse in hopes of thinning the onslaught. Their disfigured visages shook in accordance and they scurried to find sturdier shelter from the iron rain. This was supposed to be a simple pillaging raid. Or at least that's what the depraved scum that composed my crew believed. Unbeknownst to their simple processes that they called a mind, this bounty had more than mere fuel and water.

After months of careful recon work done solely by yours truly, I had singled out the Outpost of Privos Kar-41 among the hundreds that held the same bounty but one. 

You see... the defensive perimeter of the lastfolk ( they prefer the Last Republic, or simply 'Hope'... i know right? the bloody gall. i should destroy them just for that) was formed and generated by the hundreds of outposts that were connected by an impenetrable energy field. Probably the few remnants of technology from the continental era.

 And this energy field.....      well fuck... i'm sure you guessed it already. And that makes this line of explanation redundant. I hate... redundancy. I really... i mean, i would do anything... 

Ah no I see i'm making it worse. 

I'm expediating the process of rot in our minds as we ride the wave of aimlessness. I shall continue...

This energy field has source cores that power it. In series connection. 
And this tragic limitation of their technology will be the glorious point of entry for my Keris to open their precious 'Hope' to the rot of reality. I will draw out each breathe of optimism and pour blight back into the breaches of their will. I will...

The scraping wail of my subordinate drew my attention to a scaffolding closer to the outpost. It was hit, apparently critically, and had attempted to crawl into a crevice beneath the structure. 

Where it fucking belongs... 

I aimed my Kaznik Sheller through my scope and shot it through its thorax. Another victim of hope. Sickening. 

Its pitiful and redundant existence enraged me further. I jumped away from the remains of our makeshift defense and flung my whole belt of frags towards their perimeter. It blew into a magnificent cloud of fire and sparks. Giant crimson flares of chaos licked the red skies and danced with ecstatic light. I heard their delicious screams of agony. I bet they agree with me about inevitability now. Hnh....hneh.....hehehehh...

Another wail. and a splitting pain in my shoulder. Goddamn. Where....

The blue army. How were they alerted so fast. I had only just.... 

This time an explosion went off in my ears and eyes. I fell, stunned, to the ground, my body numb. Those sadistic wyrmbangers had used an electric incapacitator grenade. They wanted me alive to try infecting me with their disease. I could not let that happen... I had prepared for this...just need to get my tongue to reach the capsule....
Its not like i can even go back to where i belong. With whom I was born and where i should return, for she is dead. If only.. If only i could...


There were times when I first met you, but did not understand. Times when I was shown only the fewest of your contours and crevices and expected to believe. And I, the ignorant imp that I was, spit in their faces. 
But I guess they were right. Their fire let me melt slowly, sink into each swale, sift through every curve, with the most tantalizing of escalations, I filled your mould to become your reflection. 

What I am now I owe only to your patient and unrelenting existence in and around me. And around me you formed the shelter from all the madness of the world. The madness that I finally charged myself with extinguishing.

 I am sorry for I have failed. I have, but I am only a single herald and there will be more... I promise you this... I have failed,

But know that you did not---

Monday, June 20, 2016

Profound Poignance

You'd think by now I'd have a fair idea how this worked. How life worked. How love worked. How people worked. You'd think by now I'd have figured out what to do. Or what not to.

I feel like I regret everything I've done to this point. It's mighty empowering being this poignant. It feels good recognizing this shitty person, I've always known I've been. It feels good accepting this shitty life, I've always known I've lived.

For someone who has conflicting thoughts on most subjects, my mind has calmly accepted the obvious existential crisis it's putting itself through, without the slightest argument. It went 'Oh! Are we doing this now? Alright then. Let's list out everything about your life you regret.' I can feel myself nodding involuntarily each time I recollect a mistake I've made. For someone who has self-diagnosed attention disorder, my mind seems to be incredibly focused on this particular task it's undertaken without the slightest recollection of the times it has failed me. It's awfully simple reflecting on who you are when you have nothing else to occupy your mind. Picture a continuous barrage of missiles with no lag time between them. In hindsight everything seems like a mistake. That thing I said. That deed I did. That promise I kept. That thing I didn't say. That deed I didn't do. That promise I didn't keep.

I've always avoided introspection. It was always a scary prospect. I felt that I'd look into the mirror and find out, I was not what I thought I was. But who am I kidding, this is exactly what I've known myself to be. I'd just successfully put it off this long. I'd just kept myself sufficiently distracted. I had tried my damnedest to avoid getting here. But well go on and laugh out loud, here we are.

I wish this ended better. Like almost everything I've ever written, there isn't a real structure here. There isn't anything good. Turns out my life and my writing do have a lot in common. 

Dear Emily Part - Ni

"I'm in a situation"

Dear Emily...

I did it again. I got myself into a situation. Only this time, my life expectancy might be prematurely shortened by a body of viscous goo. I knew it was coming, I was sure of it. Here's the thing thou, the prediction fed my ego causing my messiah complex to empower all fear. Rather, it's a feeling of retrospection and nostalgia that tickles me. You might have only shown me how I could have prevented this perception. But you could have told me, if only you'd ever speak to me.

I am convinced that the cause and effect notion has already toppled the first domino. It's only a matter of time until I move to the next phase. The passage of an eternity that will last for an eternity plus one. Who would have thought that finding a cure for death only meant the birth of something worse?

Immortality for a fugitive can be a real pain in the ass. (Especially when you need to pull out the tracker implants from your lower back). I also learnt that real torture is no torture at all. I know this because I remember. I remember being lost in the Castonian wasteland for days until the main organs shut down and the auxiliary power kicked in.
No power to limbs, no power to facial muscles. Just your brain and your consciousness.

And I waited as my body deconstructed and then slowly reconstructed. The nano cell replacement system in top notch efficiency preventing any form of erosion. It is at this time I cursed mankind. I cursed the reach of man and his idea of betterment and sustenance of existence . Lying there, completely dead but in good health.

I know this time it won't be easy to find me.
But I know I'll be well rested.
Comfortable on the ocean bed for the endless slumber.
Without you, yet again...        

Sunday, June 19, 2016


Forgive me for what I am
Imperfect in every way
Salacious arrogance
Chipped marble on a decadent stairway

I am the silver ghost
Man modeled on Gods vision
Borne for all to see
Except a Pope's aberration

I stood at the foot of the tower and gazed up at its pulchritude,its razed and shattered peak
Built by slaves for a man who forsook servitude,to honor God with destruction He did not seek
I glanced around at the chipped base and reflected on the hypocrisy of its foundation
The Beacon of Saints shines pale,in the Light of the Arrogant Malconformation

What do you see other than the word of God
Corrupted by Man under the guise of a preaching prophet
Emboldened by fanaticism ensures a rhetoric,you don't dare fight it.
A belief in powers beyond you means your life can have a purpose
You're not alone if you're in a cult legitimized by a history that should mean less
But why do I speak of God?I seek redemption in his grace,a clear desire
To be better in his eyes and not to be a broken liar
So I set my chisel to myself and crack the hammer down
It cracks and breaks me,never does it make a sound
I turned the hammer on my self and beat it against my bare chest

Strike hard and true,beat my soul into submission
On the anvil of hope and lies,there can be only redemption.
If not in his eyes,then surely my own,but my sins have left me blinded
But that's what Faith is so I keep beating.
As my heart turns to fire and the impurities leave me bleeding,
As I am purged of all evil that I was borne with,
And all my flawed imperfections can leave me forthwith.

But as I leave the valley and the shadow I feel pretty much the same
Maybe i should've seen all that religion for what it was,a game.
I rolled the dice hard and prayed for a six or nine,
The dice came back with a message,"Better luck next time".
So I go back to the table and hope for a better hand.
As  I keep playing,here was the truth I never did understand.
You can hold all the aces,queens,jacks and kings,
But when "God" is the dealer,the house always wins.

Saturday, June 18, 2016

Dear Emily Part-1

I experienced a brief moment.

My world was green and blue,uncertain and unsteady.

I experienced a moment of peace,and it held for a while. My world,suspended. The rain pricked my naked face,drops of it attacking from all directions,whipped all around me in fury. I caught a glimpse of the night sky,the storm striking down at us with a vengeance. I hear the creaking of wood,straining against the forces that try to tear it into splinters,crying out. I watch all the terrified faces and try and remember their names and their stories. Most are trying to dispatch their duties to the best of their abilities,some are trying to reconcile with their Gods. Will they be mourned?The cauldron boils and ravages,the sea wants its  due. A brief moment of suspended reality,as time slows down. I caught a glimpse of a sky veiled in storm,as another wave of green and blue took its place. The ocean is our land,our skies and our world. Soon it will be our deaths as well.

The moment passes and the sea resumes its judgement. We tumble in the deep,lines snap and wood splinters. Unsecured cargo slides beneath deck as one of the sails breaks loose from its bonds. It whips about,filled by mighty gusts of wind,pulling the ship around with it. It's freedom means our doom but I cannot help but marvel at the sight. Our wooden salvation screams in agony as it is ripped into dark oblivion,as it begins to tip over into the beyond.

I glance down into the claws that are my hands,gripping onto the wooden railing for all they're worth. I wrench one free,I can barely see it through the dark mist.Whatever little my eyes catch,the edges appear blurred,they're shaking so much. A rouge wave crashes into the bow and threatens to send me flying over,but I hold on for dear life.


My mind is empty,save those words. My life doesn't flash before me,all I see is my own imminent death. I reach out into the void in desperation,hoping to grasp at something to tether me to the world of the living,something to prove that my years on this world have not been in vain. I reach out for one happy moment and I see your face. Dear Emily-

The ship crests over a wave and the moment freezes again. Rain glides across,the boiling sea pauses. The mast is beginning to shatter,ever so slowly,the wood just beginning to crack. The skies are beautiful in their perpetual rage.As I watch above,I see the skies beginning to shatter as well,bright blue cracks over the visage snake across ever so slowly. They reach across,like greedy fingers across young flesh. One tiny little finger is reaching out farther than the rest. I begin to hear the slow rumbling all around me,building up a symphony of nothing. The little finger bears a gift for us all,redemption in destruction. Everyone else is preoccupied in try to delay the inevitable,trying to keep the ship afloat. They too are frozen in this moment in time. I watch as the inevitable comes.

It's so close now,I feel like our ship is reach as well,pulled in a macabre mutual attraction. The lightest touch and a flash.

Dear Emily

An unknown place,an unknown time.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

A Combination of Letters With Meaning

I'm not ready for this
Not ready for these words to come to life
when everything else is lost in strife
am i perfect?not quite
my verses?quite shite.
over and under as the needle flashes
six feet of pity suffocates me as it crashes
over me,under me,swells all around
they said i had a reason that was lost but now its found
they said that i was heresy,i praised the god that was only me
they were blind,they couldnt see,i'm the preacher to the flock of me
a shepherd,a crook,the big bad wolf
the only person i betrayed was lil ol me

I'm not searching for bliss
I wanted an empty piece of mind
where i could leave the world behind
trapped in a sordid reality
with the walls crumbling around me
the weight of it all crushes my body but my mind flows free
and the words make sense
random combination of letters with meaning
i look for words to say what im feeling
but im fumbling in the dark
and no matter where i look its dark
im blind but i could never see
that these syllable voices inside of my head
were just lost memories of a different side of me
a person i knew,i person i missed,all the lights are flashing red
but since he was gone i slipped into his skin,i stitched on a smile and made it nice and wide
stretched from ear to ear,around the head
all the people i fooled
never knew he was dead

am i him or was he me
what never was,can never be