Tuesday, March 18, 2008


Sometimes we need to sit down. And focus.

So I'm starting out with this rant about myself. If you're looking for insightful views, get an x-ray.

Alright, here we go:

I am ashamed for my guilt, and guilty of my shame. Today I was frustrated. Very frustrated. And so I took it out on the people around me.

Which was to say, of course, most of my friends.

Sometimes I wonder why people bother sticking with me. I have random spasms, walk funny (not the first time someone told me that), am not as smart, quick, witty or otherwise as alot of the OTHER people (who don't spasm, crack stupid jokes, or attempt to annoy the hell out of everyone). And I take my problems out on my friends just like a martial artist takes his fists out on blocks of wood. (I.E. Very Loudly)

So I guess I just have to say three words.


And Thanks.

For sticking with a temperamental emotional bastard whose main use is making everything 10 times more complicated then they are.

Still, if theres one good thing I can say about myself, its that I'm not a backstabber. Nope. Backstabbing is for pansies. Real men hit other areas...

Now for a poem. xD


A Matchstick with Three Goals

We walk the coals in thinning smoke
And through the smoke I saw three paths;

One path down, so sat a child,
Playing with matches like he shouldn't do
Small sparks delighted - his eyes were wild
With the glow reflected within their pools.

Two paths down, a wife still cooking
the meal for her husband, warming the stove
to warm their hearts, their minds at home-
As the fireplace warms the fire-placed doves

Three paths down, a house was burning-
Windows alight with fear and flame,
People were screaming, the heat consumed
The weak and strong, just the same;

Same as the embers within our souls
Same as the glowing of still-warm coals
Same as the torches, wielded in runs
Same as the candlesticks paper-men shun.

From one comes all, just the same.


Promethian Society

I read about the age
Where men gained their Fire
For the first time, and lost their fear
Of the Dark that held them back.

Now they have the sun
To hold within their hands,
They feared no more the stars;
And instead, to surprass the heavens
They remade the works of God.

Consume our-selves to fight our foes
Consume our-lives to light our goals--

The fire we wield; our blessing, our curse
The fire we light--
For better, or worse.

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