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Shadows on the forest floor
I got to thinking today about how very different my life is from others. We all have individual lives of course. One life compared to another is so vastly different as to be difficult to categorize, though we all eat, and sleep, and die. The substance of my thinking is more to do with my growing sense of alienation from what I percieve to be the ( Read more... ) -
My inner bastard
Introspection is a bitch. You can be walking along one day,.. and get onto a line of thinking,.. and just follow it right off a cliff. Or at least,.. I seem to have that metaphorical ability. For all of my thinking I don't really seem to get that far. At least I don't have to be a contestant on holly wood squares or listen to the most up to date ( Read more... ) -
Tranquil loathing
I used to look forward to posting here. I would get the seed of inspiration in me from an event,.. or a particular thought,.. and let it fester. I would compose a rough draft in my mind of how to best posture the things I wanted to say. Even if the substance of what I was wanting to put text to was unpleasant, the process of arranging it in my ( Read more... ) -
Concealment Swine - A tribute
Side A ( Read more... ) -
A hail to agony.
I am a strange animal. I have thoughts in my head. Some things seem funny to me, I like the way an orgasm feels, and when prodded by hunger I drool and try to devour things. I think humanity is so taken with it's own romanticized notion of what constitutes 'being human' that it doesn't typically percolate to mass consciousness just what,... strange ( Read more... ) -
Torn
My heart hangs heavy as I write this. It's been that way for over a moth now. Sometimes that is the way things are with me ( Read more... ) -
Broken
I have written many times about my own damaged associations with interpersonal relationships and society as a whole on other occasions in my journal. If there would be a central theme to my journal, that would probably be the one right there. Despite the repetition of the subject matter I have yet to satisfactorily captured the meaning of it I ( Read more... ) -
Laughing myself sick
I have a messed up sense of humor. Its part of who I am, Like a foot or a brown hair color. While generally this runs the gamut of bizarre non sequitors (Fish Spectrum class wrestlers in corduroy face-masks ftw!) or the brutally sadistic (She fell funny) the subject of my story has to do with puppets ( Read more... ) -
Field dressing the Dead
I am scars. My biggest sense of success comes from rescuing animals from the cruelties or irresponsibilities of others. Particularly beating cases. I can personally identify with that condition of existence, fearing a blow you cannot predict that sometimes doesn't come for days. I also need pain on a semi regular basis to remind me what it's like ( Read more... )