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Rise to an Unknown Throne ch 1 He had done a favor for me, and in return he requested I go to
the mall with him. His name was Rodger, and he was not attractive.
"A fat kid like me would be eaten alive in the mall. Could you just
come with me so I look less pathetic?"
So to the mall we went. It was a terrible idea, though we didn't realize this until after we made it inside. It was what the mall had called "GayDay".
what this meant was, on this day only gay couples were let inside. after repeating shit to myself a few times, I took Rodger's hand.
"What the hell, man?" he did not like my idea. But after his exclamation,
many eyes looked our way. And then i wondered to myself what a mall does to two
lads that aren't gay on GayDay. And when those eyes looked our way, i saw her.
She was wearing a Nazi military cap. She had bleached blonde hair and wore thick
A revelation to my fears If you put a cat in a box so that you can not see the creature, the cat no longer exists to you. These are words from a philosophy I cannot recall. But this is directly in correlation to why I have trouble sleeping with my back facing an open room. As long as I see what I see, I know it is bound by the laws of reality and science. I look at an open door to a dark room and know,"that is just a room. There is nothing spectacular or terrible about it. It is simply a room." When exiting the shower, I look in the mirror and know that nothing can harm me, as all my fears are not realistic.
In my mind, reality is the cat. If I don't see the reality, reality ceases to exist. It no longer has meaning. The laws of our world bleed, and all that is left is my insanity. The door ajar in front the dark room, from my eyes,
mistress of the coldnot all can be so accepting of the lady winter, though she is the most
beautiful of the four. one must be weathered to accept her weathering spirit.
it takes a special kind of desolate to appreciate her.
lady summer shines so bright on the bright-eyed and beautiful, though this
beauty is only skin-deep.
lady spring graces the hopeful and those full of dreams, perhaps not
fulfilling every wish, but enough to bring them back to summer's keeper.
lady fall feeds on the left-overs. those who say their love for winter, but
do not mean it. lady fall takes the ones that wear the white mask of winter.
but lady winter does not chose her lovers. so few will take her cold, unforgiving
nature, though she is the most beautiful. she takes all that accept her.
though, quite often those that pledge themselves to the lady of snow are cold
themselves on the inside. thus is the reason her lovers do not get frozen by her
my role modelmy role model is megatron. not because of the transformers bandwagon, but because he has balls. in the movie, he drifted through space and came to a giant robot that ate fucking planets. this planet-eater told megatron " i own you now and you will do as i say" pretty much. and this mother fucker has the balls to say, "whats in it for me?"
even when his body is so fucked up from killing optims, the childhood hero of the 80's bare handed, mutha fucka cant walk, he asks a transformers bigger than the planet he came from, "why should i fucking do what you tell me?"
god dammit. i want to be just like megatron when i grow up.
goddess of lust i lovei don't know why i try to sleep anymore. the insomnia is intense. but, still i try. its black as pitch outside, but i can see my hands, lime colored in the green light of my alarm clock. 3:09.
suddenly, i feel a weight rise on my waist, blue-purple eyes glow. the candles i set out earlier for this occasion light and i can see what is sitting in my lap. her blue skin from eons without light is flawless.
"i see you set out candles. have i become that predictable a horror?" i hear her ask, the thousands of voices of the souls destroyed by her scream behind her voice. she wears only a red underbust and cloth around her waist so thin you could see straight through, were this room any brighter. she has beautiful horns, like that of an impala. her white hair flowing, though there is no wind.
gently tickling my chest as she lightly grazes a razor nail, she says, "you know i can feel the warmth o
counterpart.late at night, at a friends house, he and i joke. we make terrible jokes. jokes that, if anyone outside our small circle of friends heard, would probably tell the police.
"when did i become such a terrible person?" i ask my long-time friend.
"i dont think youre a terrible person. i think youre a dreamer. you dream of a better, more fantastic life. but you know this life, these dreams are impossible to achieve. so, you cope the only way you know how. suddenly, so many questions were answered.
why are you still my friend? i understand its not your fault your skrewed up.
why do you put up with my stupidity? youre deep down in there. somewhere.
i certainly know how to pick them.
and we fall asleep.
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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