New Game, Label Recognition.

[sysper]

taylor swift

[bj4ubi]

Andy Taylor

[pepperjack]

No Time For Sergeants

[bj4ubi]

Sergeant York

[pepperjack]

York fitness equipment

[sysper]

york peppermint patty get the sensation

[pepperjack]

york peppermint patty get the sensation

and combine that with sucking a nice cock

[void()]

Cocked and ready

[sysper]

ready freddy.........or whatever his/her name is

[void()]

"Name is?" ... "Bond."

[Annika L]

Gold Bond (tm) Powder

[sysper]

goldfinger............bringing it all back

[pepperjack]

can't put my finger on it

[Annika L]

lamest excuse ever

[void()]

Everclear mixed in the punch

[pepperjack]

" like a turd in the punch bowl "

[pepperjack]

thrown into the mix

[darkeyes]

dolly mixtures

[pepperjack]

trail mix

[sysper]

oregon trail

[pepperjack]

The Appalachian Trail

[void()]

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.

[pepperjack]

Cherokee Nation

[Annika L]

Cherokee Mountaincat

[pepperjack]

a tigress

[darkeyes]

Grrrrrrooowlllllll... RRRrrwWWAAAaaaaaarrrrrrrr....

..prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrŕ rrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrr

[pepperjack]

Grrrrrrooowlllllll... RRRrrwWWAAAaaaaaarrrrrrrr....

..prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrŕ rrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrr

I think you met your match with my fellow Kansan from El Dorado.

[darkeyes]

With all due modesty, maybe she met her match in me, Pep...

But she was wild... So maybe ur right...

[pepperjack]

With all due modesty, maybe she met her match in me, Pep...

But she was wild... So maybe ur right...

I think I am. She has miles to go before she can equal your experience, but imagine the possibilities!

[void()]

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.