lamest excuse ever
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lamest excuse ever
Everclear mixed in the punch
" like a turd in the punch bowl "
thrown into the mix
dolly mixtures
trail mix
oregon trail
The Appalachian Trail
Trail of tears
There are times I dislike being capable of thought. The thinking hurts a great deal. There is no fix or cure either. I could possibly self medicate and do chemical lobotomy. That too would serve no good end. Ultimately, I am left to feel inclined to throw my hands into the air and yell in exasperation. "Fuck it! Life is totally fucked no matter what I do, or don't do!"
And at such point I find myself locked in an urge to go take a physical beating from my dead step-father. At least I could ignore that pain, it would be something. Of course, as it is now I would likely kill him if he raised a hand to me. I would no longer cower and simply take a beating. No, I would volley right back. Not sure it would take too much either. Probably literally be two thuds, me hitting him, his dead body thudding on the deck/floor/ground.
Then, I get pissed off because he's already dead. I can't enjoy the fight. Left so fucking cold and empty, seeing shit like Trail of Tears and understanding it was hate like he shoved at me. It is not only Trail of Tears though. Look at what we do now to Muslims, Gays, Christians. I get so fucking tired of hate being taught, being made to continue, day in and day out. Greatly understand the lyrics of Marlyn Manson song, "I hate the hater, rape the raper, Fuck it, FUCK IT!"
But all this anger not quelled inside cannot turn itself from "tragic to magic" as it once did. I could write using the darkness and negativity as energy. And yes, that is what majik truly is, the transforming of energy from one state to another. I learned this via some geomancy as a youth. Do not laugh, scoff there is real majik alive and well in the world and yes geomancy is one form, it is earth majik. You take the force expelled by a lightning bolt, turn it to the gentle stream eroding a mountain to hasten farming in order that a cycle renews itself, for example. I used to do it with any energy, emotional energy is difficult to master, can do it, yet many do indeed go full on insane.
Now, it doesn't do as should. There is probably too much negative, is what this conveys to me. I am tired from being the candle in the dark. No more candles alight. Apathy cedes to despair. Perhaps, it is the cycle renew itself without me along. Not sure. Just know I hurt bad, mentally and physically, I'm exhausted and not able to do.
Apologies for babbling. I'm just not quite all together, together any more.
Before it is suggested, no, I'm not suicidal. Not even close. I needed to get the above out, nothing more. There are friends here. Among friends there is understanding. I am okay, but feel a lot of deep languid melancholy, the English term it mauldin or maldalin (sp?). It may simply be after Holiday's let down too. I got two pair of sweat pants, elastic bands and all. I bought myself a little vape gear. Yay for my great Yule. Not that I so much expected a lot. It just seemed to be "well, as an after thought you can have ...". Any given, I'm okay. I'll muddle through.
Cherokee Nation
Cherokee Mountaincat
a tigress
Grrrrrrooowlllllll... RRRrrwWWAAAaaaaaarrrrrrrr....
..prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrŕ rrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrr
:impleased
Quote:
Originally Posted by darkeyes
:smilies15 I think you met your match with my fellow Kansan from El Dorado. :shades::smilies15
With all due modesty, maybe she met her match in me, Pep...:tongue:
But she was wild..:impleased. So maybe ur right...;):love87:
I think I am. She has miles to go before she can equal your experience, but imagine the possibilities! :rolleyes: ;) :smilies15Quote:
Originally Posted by darkeyes
Matches, miles led to rubber burnt from tires. More oil and toxins sprayed into the air for the benefit of getting there sooner. Sooner being relative to a notion we created called time. Nobody ever has time any more. Past, present and future all the same for those living in the now. We see all the time spent on time and have to laugh, or cry because of a repeated song. Every resources is scarce and finite, the leaders mock like parrots. Truth is just the opposite. No one buys truth however, no, they all line up to buy more time, to carry the same old can. It belonged to his father, and his on back until it didn't. When it didn't we had no fences. We were still one and not separate. Chasms of pixels sent over wire, air to bring us back together, push us farther apart. People too are called scarce and finite, again we miss the truth. "Give us more time", goes the refrain.
Apologies. Not seeming to keep accord with the thread's topic. Seems it has gone awry at any given.
Well, depending on whether you want to go with the beginning or end of void's post:
Matchbox; or
Honda Accord
Take your pick!
time is running out for me. not talking about my curiosities about the same sex. that's a side project for my life. sometimes i feel that is a substitute for what i need more in life. but probably still worth considering. the fantasy keeps me happy sometimes. but there are more important issues in my life. tick tock as someone said.Quote:
Originally Posted by void()
oh by the way - matchbox cars.......see how i tied the 2 togather?:oh:
Matchbox cars tied up with wires round the plastic Godzilla on his bed tray. A tray used in hospitals. Hospitalized he was and tray or no, I could not away stay. It was his way, the joke about life so full of mystery. Mystery in how he managed getting the Godzilla into the room. We all have the room on Earth and there is ever food for us all. No way the evil rich would let us know. May turn them on their heads in a fall. He looks up with a smile and says, "welcome to the sprawl."
welcome to the jungle
Hot, sticky and creepy crawlies...
" They call me hot and nasty. "
Hot to go!
pizza carry-out! :tongue:
Chippie...
the woodchipper scene in the movie Fargo
"Seen 'em running o'r yon?" The light flickered then caught the runners heading through a brush thicket.
"Yep, far they go, idiots cain't out run a 30/30 slug", Jake said. He lifted the rifle as he drew up the lever all in one fluid motion. "Pop, zing! Pop, zithump", went the first two rounds. "That ya warning shots, best be running faster."
Faster than a speeding bullet...
" a bullet with my name on it "
coors lite
coors light drinkers don't worry about werewolves ;) :impleased
Light on the front porch shining that hazy yellow sulfate color, flickering every so often as we approached the little shotgun hut. Beer stocked in the worn fridge set against the wall. A guy sitting in the rocker with a 12 gauge double barrel on his lap. "Grab ya a few", he says as we step up onto the porch. Inside a mama tet culling the coin from some listless tourists just oh so delighted to watch faked voodoo. You draw up the beer to sip. I reach over and pull it away from your mouth, offering it instead to the guy with the gun. "Go on ya weary old dog", he says, spitting a mouthful of gob off the side of the porch. I give you the beer back, nodding it's fine to drink now. I set my beer on the other end of the porch, opened and left to bless the passing ones. You look so puzzled, I give the guy with a gun a ten dollar bill and walk on without waiting on change. On down the road we walk, past the bogey and by a jutty out into the big muddy. You seem anxious as the cicadas begin calling out in the night.
And I let the wolf out of the bag as the moon rises.
Bah. Ye be stinati wot ye nay wanna feel again ye. *chuckles* Can be a real bitch at times. *chuckling even more*Quote:
Originally Posted by pepperjack
Ye seen them pictures of the old sideshow Lycanthropes? well, with my beard full grown now for winter ... there ya go, you got me.
Bah, humbug.
Hum job
a humvee
Hummus for the crackers
Uncle Cracker (Follow Me, one of the great bad behavior songs of all times https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Gjx-ZQuQ_Y )
cry uncle