Randomly Useless Dribble

Love...love is such a cursed word, for one, its not all that descriptive is it? And for another, it is both hated and appreciated. My thoughts on love are mixed and unresolved at best. I both love and hate it, as of late anyway. Oh don't get me wrong, I feel love, I know what it is and what it is to be in love. But that is just a single brick in the wall of emotions people experience, or rather a couple of bricks, I really don't give a shit at this point.

If you've read this post so far and have begun to wonder as to what the point of this post is, I'm afraid that there isn't any, the real reason I'm writing apart from the fact I have not updated this blog in ages, is solely for the small measure of comfort I get from randomly writing all this down, a soothing balm on a bullet wound as it were: pointless and inadequate.

Back to love, and why I'm beginning to despise it. Love makes you do stupid, stupid things, its fine when the stupid things you do are appreciated and reciprocated, but what is the worth of sacrificing and bleeding for love, when the one you do love just packs in and refuses to deal with anything? What is the worth of waiting on someone if that someone is too indecisive and keeps switching from one tack to the other, leaving you hanging there? What is the fucking point of bleeding your heart out too many times to bear and then having yourself cast aside like an empty can of fucking beer? In short, What is the fucking point? Love isn't rational, no wonder anyone can't explain it. The ultimate point to this post I see is this: I'm done. For now, I'm fucking done and I'm not going to start over from square one, not even if this one person wants me back.

Love, is the cause of the pain of seperation.

Frozen in a timeless illusion,immobilized, crippled by terror.
Muffled explosions caper about the horizon of his consciousness,
His eyes cease to flash in anger, all fury negated, forgotten.
Once proud man turned into child, shellshocked to oblivion.

His rifle, death-dealer, lies useless, forgotten at his feet.
His frozen mind, surrendered to eternity, refuses to focus,
blurred images assualt his mind, screaming at him, "MOVE"!
a command that will forever go unheard, by his numbed ears.

Dimly he senses the impacts of bullets cutting through him.
Wasting his life, merciless in their end design of Death,
his eyes snap to reality, freed by the pain, his mind screams,
as one with his own scream of pain, as he falls into Darkness.

A while ago, I posted the following on a forum after having read some very thought provoking poetry.

"I wonder whether it is our tendency to appear apathetic towards the plight of our fellow man these days, that is in essence the current major characteristic that defines the modern human being and his/her humanity itself...in which case, i do not dare to wonder or look toward the future, for it seems to be getting fucked up by the second."

A friend of mine, in response to the above, said that: "I think its incapacity. Our minds are so full of OURSELVES that we aren't capable of thinking of anyone else. And this ultimately brings about apathy..."
An interesting thought, to which i replied with the following: "I agree, another reason why communism is a load of bull! And so is harmonious cultural diversity. In the end we're no better than Chimps dressed up in suits playing at being God."
To which she subsequently agreed.
In one of my earlier blogs I had written about selfishness being part of the Human Condition. I feel that it applies here too, although in tandem with other factors that lead us not only towards this apathy but also racism.
It is a sad thing to believe that no matter how good relationships between certain ethnicities are going well these days, we are still biased, hence even a hint of racism does simmer beneath the surface of todays multicultural societies. And the fact it does exist, is one of Humanities greatest hypocrisies. Humanity has still got a long way to go, and it better get off the starting line soon, or by the time we finally realize for retarded we are, it WILL be way too late.

They argue that all human beings, whether atheists or not, appeal to a higher power in times of need or fear. True, but that doesn't necessarily mean they appeal to divinity. Faith is a double edged sword, meaning that just because you get what you pray for does not mean it was given to you by a God. It is circumstantial.

There are just two outcomes, you get what you pray for or you don't, thats a 50 - 50 chance you get what you want. It's much better to be pessimistic and expect to not get what you'd want than to eat your heart out and blame something for not, and that is why we pray, its a fail safe, a way to cope with the fact you aren't going to get anything, you can just say, "Oh I wasn't faithful enough" or be immature and say "God hates me!" I mean what the fuck?

Be fucking realistic! Make your own fucking choices to get what you want, sure you might not, but you have the satisfaction of having tried to attain it, isn't that better than mopping about praying and doing nothing at all to get it? Getting beaten down is much better than a mouthful of bullshit. And stop fucking wishing for Einstein's sake!!! What the fuck did wishing ever get you? A load of depressing horse shit, thats what. If theres something you want, make it happen. Cause and effect vice versa.

Peace out.

No, I'm bloody well not happy. Confusion, depression and that intense longing for what one can't have, have reduced me to an insignificant, microscopic speck lying there in the petri-dish of life. Damn it! In fact, bloody well damn everything! I'm not in the mood to fucking write shit anyway.

....is the worst prankster you will ever meet. She's merciless in her pursuit for amusement, like the mythological Roman Gods, she'll play with you, deceiving you, lulling you into some sense of feigned security until that moment in which she decides to fuck up your world.

She'll deny the one thing you wish for, just to see you fall back into the dark depths of your own hell and dwell on what could have come to pass. Often, when you dwell long enough, you begin to hate yourself, or rather, your inability to do something about what it is you've been denied.

However, Fate never has the last laugh, no matter how painful or hopeless the predicament you find yourself in is, you always have a choice in the matter and that matters much more to a Man than anything he would ever wish to posses.

The Human Condition is a selfish one. Even the most selfless person alive is to even the smallest degree, selfish. And thats not a bad thing. We wouldn't have survived this long as a species if we weren't! However, a man, who is willing to brave the tyranny of fate in the hope to one day be with the person he wishes to, is perhaps the most selfish of all. Yes, that does sound contradictory, but in essence, what I say is true. Think about it.

That said, I'm a selfish person. I'm willing to stay, for as long as the need be, for that one individual. Futile? Maybe. Still doesn't really change the fact that I'm still willing to try my hand at cheating fate. As Shakespeare once thought important to say: “Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.”

Twilight casts her shadows o'er war-torn land,
trying to soothe with her pale, gentle fingers
the wounds, ripped, remorselessly by human being.

She sobs, unleashing her sorrow, as drops of rain,
each imbued with years of pain as she watches on,
helpless, as we crush and destroy in our unrelent.

Her screams, whistle about dead, blackened trees,
an eerie whisper to man, riding upon Nights wings,
unceasing, chilling the skin of man, with her hate.

Her anger, a crimson blood-red, tinges the sunset,
as loud and vivid as the barren land she mourns,
yet as unfaltering as the hand that caused it.

Twilight laments for her child, raped and maimed,
destroyed by Man's wars, a victim of selfish hate,
She watches on, pitying us. When will we learn?

All alone, laid down among black roses,
eyes wide open, blank, yet watchful,
she waits, in blissful sleep, hoping.
A fickle hope, umarred by darkness.
All alone, in the orchards of Death.

Black fingers of the coming night,
lace themselves about her, strangling,
yet merciful and serene, a paradox,
granting serenity to her soul, abhorred,
by her mind, fighting hard to overcome it.

All alone, laid down among black roses,
limbs as rigid as death, yet alive.
she waits, for an eternity and a day,
for the freedom she strives to attain.
All alone, in the orchards of Death.

Descending darkness, covers her,
in an imprentratable shroud of fear.
What lies beyound the darkness?
None can tell, yet all have known,
the culmination of life amongst death.

All alone, laid down among black roses,
immersed in the cold, dark pools of loss.
The icy kiss of lost souls gently caress,
the once silken hair that adourned her head
All alone, all alone in the orchards of Death.

Laughter echos through the halls of his empty mind,
sillouhettes of half-formed, meaningless images cast,
their dark shadow upon his unawakened conciousness.
He bleeds himself dry with every endless waking hour,
trying to feel the clarity of unclouded judgement.

His eyes, wild with untamed, primal fury search,
for the face of his captor, the mask of humanity.
His nails scratch the walls of his feigned prison,
seeking to find a way out of his eternal torment.
Despair kisses him again, taunting him with promises.

A pinpoint of light reflects off his eye, glimers of hope,
reveal themselves as fragile as dew caught on cobweb
As he reaches out with the fingers of his concsiousness,
they disappear, destroyed by winds of hated desolation.
He bows under the weight of his burden, crippled by it.
Waiting, eternal waiting, for the solace of death.

How beautiful the decay,
the decadence of life,
the vile twists of fate,
the seductive lights.

How beautiful the decay,
the countless ruined souls,
fill devils proving grounds,
as echoing dirges sound.

How beautiful the decay,
wasted eyes and hearts,
bruised and broken skin,
laid under tombstones clean.

How beautiful the decay,
as lone mother cries,
over unborn dream child,
eyes transfixed, blind.

How beautiful the decay,
man's life long lost, gambled,
pulse turned to rolls of dice
crying,"money!" Satan's bastard child!

How beautiful the decay,
the lives we all live,
the illusions and petty vices
yet we say:
"How beautiful the decay."
"How beautiful the decay."