The Deal:

Here is the deal guys:
I am going to wait for at LEAST 2 comments on a post before posting the next story. So, get off your asses and start commenting. Well, I guess you wouldn't have to get off your ass to comment, but do it anyways. Otherwise, your loss. I've written the next stories, but it's up to you if you want to see them...he he he.

I guess there should be a warning for this story, although if you ask me I don't need it. But if you are homophobic, don't read it, or pretend I'm a guy...

Too Beautiful

She thinks life is beautiful like herself because her pale skin and full hair just make me want to lay my lips to sleep on hers they just look like a bed to me. Soft-feather-pillows hush little baby I can’t say a word all that comes out of my mouth are statements (not questions) like “I love you” that don’t mean anything. But when I look into her eyes I feel like crying because really there is nothing there nothing there at all, so I focus on the rest of her so I won’t have to taste bitterness on my tongue.

The Next Installment...

Here is the next installment of my series...
I have actually written the next 4 installments, but I need posting matter, so I'll only give them to you one at a time. I apologize. At least it means I'll be posting more frequently...

2. Too Happy

Optimism has always been one of those qualities that I can’t appreciate because there’s this little part of me that is hate-hate-hating it if only because I can’t see life that way. Maybe she’s breaking underneath but she doesn’t show it like I do with my rawredskin exterior. It never-never fades, and parts of me don’t want it too, there is no happiness for me only that empty blackness that I keep diving into (cannonball).

A Series

I have begun to write a series of short....I don't know what to call them. Drabbles, I guess, but that term sounds so unprofessional. Not that I consider myself professional. Inspired by extremities, here is the first of the series.


Too Thin

She keeps telling me about her problems but should I pretend I care? Really I don’t, even though I feel her pain through her perfectionexterior that keeps pissing me off so much. I can see her ribs through her back and it’s scaring me-scarring her just a bit, maybe I should tell someone who cares more than me because why can’t I care? She smiles at me and tells me that she’s gone down three sizes and this doesn’t impress me it just makes me feel worse about hating her, and a little worse about myself why do I feel that? It’s not like she’s cool because she’s stupidskinny and losing weight by the millions, but this little part of me that doesn’t feel sorry for her feels sorry for myself for not looking as good as she does why do I think she looks good?

Regret

This is just something I was randomly inspired to write. So, don't expect too much, but please comment!

Regret? Sure, I feel regret sometimes. I’m only human, right? I suppose I feel it less than some other people, but it’s still there. Regret that I didn’t go somewhere, do something with my life. Regret that I spent those precious years of teenage wallowing away in my own misery and darkness, swathed in black, blocking out the rest of the world with a pair of headphones. But if you get to know me, you will realize that I shouldn’t regret these things, because I did go somewhere, and I did do something with my life. Just not the right thing.

There are explanations for everything, but I haven’t yet found the explanation for why I did what I did. Maybe it was because they looked so tempting, in my hand like that. Maybe it was because I couldn’t deal with overwhelming pressures around me. Maybe it was because there weren’t any pressures, and I’m still a liar.

They call it throwing your life away, but I am unsure of what to think of this. Sometimes I think that really, it’s just another part of living, and that there are things beyond this life. Most of the time, I fervently hope that there isn’t, because I doubt I would be able to take much more. Imagine if you just kept killing yourself, over and over, just to find yourself alive again, in the next world. You should at least be allowed some period of recovery, where you can just shut everything out and be gone for a while.

Or forever.

Then again, sometimes I really want a second chance, and want to live as someone who loves life, and doesn’t want to get rid of it.

They always wonder why murderers and thieves do what they do. In my opinion, their crimes are much worse than mine, but I am still paired with them in the same cell of misinterpretation. They were harming others, I only myself. Is this as much of a crime? Don’t I have the right to do what I want with myself?

And yet, there is nothing so cruel or horrible as taking away what humanity considers most precious. In my opinion, there are things far more precious than life, but it isn’t what I think that matters. Freedom of speech, freedom of thought, those are all lies, because when it comes down to it, you have to be like everyone else.

And yet, why does everyone try so desperately to be original, to be different? An inner struggle that perhaps everyone goes through, except those who are most comfortable with themselves. But what is comfort? Can you ever be truly comfortable living with yourself? Is there not always some guilt, regret, or shame that you are feeling? Or is that just me?

A Review of Mankind

In response to much uproar over my New Year's blogolution, I have decided to not stop making random posts. I knew this was going to happen even before I wrote up that blogolution, so I shouldn't have even said anything. Oh well, I guess I need some small form of entertainment. Or some sign that people still love me. And that's just how sad I am. So, in celebration of not keeping resolutions, here is a post as random as random can be.

A review of mankind:

People write reviews for movies, and for albums, and songs, and art, and everything. So why shouldn't there be a review for people? So, I was going to take this opportunity to bitch about everyone I know, albeit anonymously. But then I decided that that would be far too offensive to be coming from my mouth. Or...hands. So instead, I'll just bitch about how humanity is going absolutely nowhere.

If you still consider this offensive, I will make you feel a little better by putting this in a format so you can pretend that it isn't about humanity at all. Pretend it is a review for that new album from your favorite band, whatever it may be.

1. Womankind

This song has one of the worst openings I have ever heard, and the vocals were incredibly whiny. The lyrics would have been okay, but it seems that the band took every opportunity possible to put in some backstabbing comment about anyone and everyone they could. The melancholiness of the interludes in the song can be related to PMS, which is a good comparison, because I dislike this song almost as much as I dislike PMS.

2. The Mans

Good instrumentals, and good vocals. However, this was taken away from by the fact that the song dragged out for about 8 minutes, and there was absolutely no substance. It meant...nothing! I also could have done without the repeated swearing, which there was far too much of. But overall, a better song than the first one, although it could have done with some more emotion, and sensitivity.

3. Teenagers (yes, I am aware that there is actually a song called Teenagers. I love that song, but for the purpose of this list, ignore the fact that the song exists.)

Generally, music has to have....music. But I was disappointed to find that this song had virtually no instrumentals, and rap just doesn't cut it when I listen to music. This song lacked any thinking whatsoever, and this drove me crazy. The only part of it that I actually enjoyed was the guitar solo in the middle of it, which was overshadowed by the fact that the guitarist didn't actually know how to play guitar.

For anyone who doesn't understand the above comparison: The teenage pop culture today is a stupid, hip-hoppy generation that lacks the ability to use the brain. There is the occasional awesome person you meet, but it is overshadowed by the millions of wannabes.

4. Babies

A song with a cutsie, happy opening. However, the entire middle of it was so irritating that I hardly noticed the quiet, peaceful, ending. A day in the life, I suppose...

5. OLD

As far as classical music goes, it wasn't all that bad. But, there was a tone of desperation in the music, and the song seemed like it would never end. All in all, it was a pretty useless number in this album, since it didn't really add much.


And thus concludes my review of humanity. I guess a lot of it was offensive to many people, but I find myself caring oh-so-little. Just consider it the bluntest of ways to put anything, and everyone's happy. Maybe.
Now, just to make something clear, I have nothing against old people. I just felt like dissing on everyone today.

And so, good day to you all. I'm going to go see a stupid and pointless play!

Resolutions

As my New Year's Resolution for this blog (I don't make resolutions for myself), I promise to try and actually use it for what it's here for. In other words, my poetry. I know that some of you are crying right now and actually love my lists/ramblings (insert random name here), but the reason I made this blog was actually to make my writing (actual writing) somewhat publicized. Obviously, since my friends are the only ones (I think) that read this blog, this didn't work out too well. But just in case there is anybody (ANYBODY!) else that reads this, here is an actual poem.

P.S.
I put all those parentheses in just for a special someone who knows exactly who he is.

Corruption

lieslieslies and that’s all you ever tell me
don’t go don’t go I will miss you I promise
promises lies and more promises more lies
no promise is a true promise but I’ll miss you
fall away crawl away
don’t listen to those seducers whispering in your ear
you lovemelovemeloveme I hope you do
kisses and poison, more poison than love
revolving alone on the same spot
dizzydizzy tumbles of words
hug me kiss me caress me and love me
don’t go don’t go I will miss you someday
promises are killers and killers are lies
feel the sugar melting on your lips
DELiverance
DELiciousness

rapunzel.in.black

Bartleby the Scrivener

In case you don't know, Bartleby the Scrivener is a...short story, I'll call it, by Melville. Now, I don't know about everyone else, but this is probably the height of useless English readings for me. Yes, we are reading this story in English class. In a short summary, the story consists of a man called Bartleby, who refuses to take orders but is a good worker, then he randomly quits but refuses to stop living at the office. Him living at the office...that in itself is random and useless. So, I will now write a short, even more useless, poem, on how much I hate this story.

Bartleby is a scrivener
Who seems very driven...er
But he refuses to take orders
And so he is very border (line)

I really don't like him
The outlook for me is grim
As I'm reading this stupid story
Which isn't even gory

I didn't do the reading
Because I was feeding
Bartleby says he prefers not to
I prefer not to READ THIS STUPID THING