Preview: Shit Stains

SPRING AND ITS MINIONS.

Spring, although it may seem like it, is not the beginning of summer or a soothing end to winter. Spring is the very embodiment of hope and faith. It may be the rejuvenating flowers, luxurious trees and its colorful leaves or the ever enticing sunlight. 

Whatever it may be that brings such power with spring…it holds true that it's the time of rebirth. The chains of despair and depression have long been broken and now the utmost freedom reins. Like a king brought of poverty; he will share every coin of gold and silver alike.

Birds, although not faithful to spring, very much add a massive amount of power to the feeling of spring. The fluttering of wings and the chirping of tongues. 

What an end to the despicable ways of ice and snow...what a beginning…a beginning, a renewal, of the oh-so loved hope. Hope may not stick around forever, but if spring doesn't bring its power a new…may the universe save you another way.

1-10-21 (Global warming, if there was a sign, has happened and hope for a world of perfection is lost. The sun shines in the first month, when there should be layers of ice and snow in abundance. May we never live to see the day when winter is gone. May Martin see truth)

THE SHACKLED DEMON NAMED DESPAIR.

I've seen my fate…a thousand times over. A man sits on a ledge, peering over into oblivion. He wishes to fall. He knows he must.  This is my fate. I know it to be true. For every tear that falls, unheard by the many near ears, a thought of destruction appears. Like light and shadow, hope and emptiness have become my only feelings. Flipping on and off like a breathing coal or the shine of an earring. I wish to fall…

I know what I want to do with the rest of my life; write. It's my only passion, my only purpose. Like freedom, it brings all emotions to light. Sadly, it also brings the absence of emotion with it. Like a faithful kitten, it brings home mice as a gift, but he knows that the rodent will be a pest. Perhaps…waiting is the only option. Perhaps this feeling of emptiness is not like a kitten…but rather a hurricane. An unstoppable force only stoppable by time. Like most things the 4th dimension seems to be the strongest concept ever thought of…

1-24-21

THE BUTTERFLIES THAT ARE MY THOUGHTS.

A butterfly. White and reflective under the shine of day. It flutters, silent. Unheard by even the best of hunters.

I think of my thoughts as butterflies.

 They come and go with the time of day. Appearing went they feel it to be the right time.

Disappearing when predators are near…

Reappearing in sight of solitude. 

And disappearing when that dastardly Demon appears...

He shouldn't be out in the light of day. He only has the strength to torment me and my butterflies at night.

When all is calm. When all are gone.

And yet…and yet he is here.

To scare away my thoughts? My ideas and passions?

He wouldn't...

No man nor Demon is that evil. That crude. 

But they still leave. My glistening butterflies leave the meadow that is my mind…

Only returning when the sun wishes to rise.

Only returning when the Demon chooses to leave.

Only returning when the tears have stopped falling…

2-8-21

HAIR OF GOLD AND EYES OF THE BALTIC SEA.

I wish, just once, to look into her eyes…

To see the blue. Blue of the Baltic. And feel the butterflies -not of thought- but of love. 

I miss the way you put your hair in a bun.

…just one more hug…

Just one second…One second and I'll be okay…

Okay with your absence. Okay with my loneliness. 

I wish to hear your laugh, see you cry in laughter. 

…

I can't exist reasonably without you…

Perhaps, my mind simply misses your role as a provider of laughter and happiness...or its something far greater.

When I look into your eyes…I feel like floating.

I'm a star…when I look into the Baltic Sea…

And when the hair of the sun touches me…

I want nothing more…

Nothing more…

2-9-21

A VAST NOTHINGNESS.

The oceans waves of teal, fold in on itself. Rising so high, only to collapse. Foam sprawls out over the wet sands, only to retreat back into the salty liquid.

Seagulls squawk above  in search for food, but find nothing. 

Empty clamshells, jellyfish and logs wash themselves ashore. 

Never to return to sea.

Never to return to the infinite waters.

Fog smokes off distant trees like a stoner dragon.

Mist covers your skin. Soaking any clothes you were wearing. Your hair is wet despite keeping your distance from the water.

Your feet are dirty with sand.

A body of water so vast...so deep...The human race couldn't drink the whole thing in thirteen thousand years…

I wish to stare into its abyss for eternity. 

A brother of the skies...A sister…

Why exist anyway else, when you have this...perhaps the largest noun humanity has yet to see.

It's capable of such rage and yet so tender to your toes…

And we call it calmness…

The Pacific.

SPACE.

They don't know the time I go to school.

Or what I wish to do with my life. 

Or how I spent my day.

Or what i think…

Nor do they care. 

Not only do they refuse to learn, they never cared to learn in the first place. My entire existence, they think, is empty of emotion and work. They see me as a regular. Normal. Basic.

Only if they asked. No.

Only if they cared about my answer. 

A man can ask another any question in the universe, but if the man never held any value for said answer, neither the question or the answer mattered in the first place.

A blimp in the vast cosmos. 

It never needed to be said, because it was never planned on being examined...

Perhaps it is space they give me…but even in space exoplanets and stars exist, move around with the ever swirling galaxies…

RATHER. (A funny)

Although I'd prefer to never see it happen. Although it is true, I would rather see these things happen than see my passion for writing fade away…

I'd rather put my dick in a blender. 

I'd rather walk the entire length of Russia.

I'd rather lose each of my fingers to a Tigers anus, a thousand times over.

I'd rather get AIDs.

I'd rather get fucked by your ugly ass sister.

I'd rather see myself homeless.

I'd rather hike the Vietnam jungles.

I'd rather fight in every war the human species have waged upon each other.

I'd rather use my dick as a tennis racket. 

I'd rather let you eat cereal out of my asshole.

I'd rather let a smoker suck my tongue every night. 

I'd rather contract every virus the world has to offer.

I'd rather fuck every hooker Thailand has.

I'd rather marry a tranny.

I'd rather see Britney Spears become president. 

I'd rather sell my nutsack to the highest bidder. 

I'd rather let a snake nest in my asshole.

I'd rather fuck a pigeon.

I'd rather let you cover me in your nutt and take a shower.

I'd rather drink diarrhea.

I'd rather fight Iron Mike Tyson after calling him the N-word.

I'd rather never fall in love.

I'd rather have you sanitize my anal cavity. 

I'd rather use gasoline as lube.

I'd rather see my best friend get shot thirty-seven times.

I'd rather throw my dog over a bridge. 

I'd rather let an old Korean lady throw-up in my mouth. 

I'd rather experience the entire age of the universe.

And many, many more…

A HELPLESS SAILOR.

" Emptiness flows like no other. The absence of enjoyment. Passion has hidden itself deep beneath the abyss, full of despair. I must fall through the blackened, soot covered, cloud of ash in order to take it back. Take back my thrill of passion and joyful path of work, that of which I love. The only reason I must continue to exist. 

Who has done this to me? Perhaps myself…Perhaps them…I dare not say, but…maybe it is a test from beyond my field of vision. Behind the clouds that have been said to be the End. 

Heaven.

Perhaps my instinctual desire to be a part of the tribe has led me to believe it to be so. I'm a firm follower of evolution and the first to point to it for truthful answers.

But in this state of weakness…I point first to that of which I have no evidence for. The intense feeling of synchronicity has led me to believe it to be true. Despite my deep desire to use my skepticism to its absolute capacity. 

But I know it to be far simpler than that of Deities that work on faith alone.

It's an evolutionary trait known as depression; used to banish those of infertile and unwilling to follow the group. The tribe. 

I know now time will relinquish me from the emotional despair, but for the moment…

I am…broken. Weakened. Powerless.

I wish there to be someone, other than myself, to provide the confidence to continue on.

It strengthens me in the end, to be alone and a pillar of independence, but…when weakened to such a degree…I wish only for another to help. Like a sinking ship, they don't wish to give up their material to stop the flooding. Even though they have plenty of materials and, from my eye, there seems to not be a single hole in their ship. ”

3-10-21

GHOST OF THE TIDES.

" The ocean, specifically the Pacific, means…calm. Could you ever imagine the largest body of water being called…calm? Ironically I feel calm next to it. Like a high soaring hawk, its vast size makes me feel, well, better. Calm, even. 

I feel, when I'm next to the ocean, that its grandness shadows my problems to such an extent that I have to no longer worry about them. The ocean shadows the concept of foulness. With its overarching clouds above, feathery droplets and smoothly folding waves of bioluminescent blue…

It's as if I'm a king of a city-state and the ocean is the empire I operate in. I control a firm nation, but the empire is far larger, and therefore I worry about my job less as a result. Of course I still work, otherwise my happiness would cease to exist. But the ocean, the grandeur of the beast, it makes everything I have ever felt terrible about, all the lesser experiences…it fades away when I'm there. On the sandy beach, looking out to, what seems like, an infinite…abyss. It's the equivalent to what astronauts see when they look into space, only I know the ocean eventually stops. It had borders. And yet…It seems so vastly infinite that my very being is physically attracted to its edge.

This concept I speak of is difficult to grasp, even for myself, but I know it to be there. This feeling is real. And I must thank the ocean for accidentally existing. "

CONSCIOUSNESS IS FREEDOM, BUT WITH A PRICE...

" Consciousness is an accident. By evolutionary standards and in the head of a young man. He runs into it. Stumbles upon the noun by sheer accident. Consciousness is constructed -in a young mind and by evolution- in experience and environment. They’re connected like the water and sky. 

For the young mind, it's a gift at first. To realize what you didn't before and to think about things that didn't even seem interesting previously. 

Same for evolution. The early man walked the Earth mindlessly, hunting and gathering. Killing and running. Breeding and protecting. No reason behind it. Then…consciousness developed. They ran into it. Stumbled upon it by sheer accident. 

Although, was it an accident if the environment produced it? 

Now the same man can kill and protect, but this time with reasoning and logic behind his muscles. 

Same for the early mind. He can think and create, but with a reason. Not just because he felt like it, but because it gives him a reason to exist, as it did to the early man.

He no longer kills and protects just because. He kills and protects for a reason. To kill is to protect his kin. To protect is to pass on his genes and to keep his children from the pain he once suffered. 

But…consciousness is freedom…with a price.

To be conscious is to exist for a reason and logic behind that reason. Its freedom from simply existing. 

Now the early man and the early mind exist without the boring line of normalcy guiding them. They exist for their own goals and purpose…except now things are different. 

The uncertainty of the universe and their own life are well represented. Depression chases them, tracks them down and either devours them or they escape with barely enough courage to continue.

Consciousness is freedom…but with a price.

That price being the deadly demon named Despair. "

4-12-21