The remains of a madman

There is going to be a time and a place in the not so distant future where all of this will make sense. Everything leading up to this point will hold within itself more clarity and power than any other piece of fiction or article of fact. Every nerve ending in that tiny little head of yours is going to light up at that moment. You will feel whole and the world makes sense. Anything can trigger this. Feelings such as love or hate. The feeling of emotional engulfment as you get into that university you always wanted to go to. The loss of a loved one.

Once you are there, and this is a very important thing to do, let go. Let go of all the fears and ambitions. You can come back to those in the seconds/hours/days/weeks/months/years that follow, for that one instance, no matter how long it is, let go. Death is everyone's faith but you've made it this far it's time to celebrate.

I had this warm and cute idea just now. I hate those.

This is not that idea:
"I am a pessimist through and through, unless something good happens." - me

In case of severe paranoia or gnomes break this glass.
The text is hiding behind it - trust me - just hit me.

I won't try and escape, just break the glass and we will become friends.

Trust me.

Hello.

Wake up.

I know you're there and waiting. You radiate love and all the feelings of gratitude. You feel like home. I hope you know that. I was floating away but you were my anchor. I hold on with all my body but you overtook me with your love. My strength was unneeded in the battle. You took hold of me as I was floating away and you saved me. I let go and drifted. I know who you are. You radiate everything I want and I want everything you radiate. A clever little circle of the damned, if I do say so myself and I do, again and again and again.

I wake up as the previous morning sets. "Good morning." The moon is rising and things seem hazy. I think another adventure must begin and soon. Onward to the balloon of hate and misery for it is you who we must fight! The stars twinkle with an eerie blue glow as the dragon fires up. "I think we must set sail indeed!" - our captain yells.

We are the nightly pirates. We fight the balloon of hate and misery that the child on stupidity let go of as he was running around in the parking lot of ever-present sales and discounts. We shall survive. Fight for justice, democracy and juicy lollipops.

We are indeed insane.

I don't remember much. It's all a daze - to this moment I hear the ever present frazzle-dazzle of high pitched sound-waves. It's all pulsating and everything's spinning. The clock in the background seems to be picking up pace and doesn't keep the time at all. I hope it doesn't stay that way. It's a constant battle to overcome the TV-like static that keeps popping up but I think it's slowly coming down to an acceptable level. Whoom - whoom - whoom, goes the jet engines, slowly creaking to a halt. Tick-tock goes the clock.


I'm entering the dream phase and all seems well. I hope I remember this in the morning because otherwise it was 30 minutes wasted. 30 valuable minutes in which another brilliant idea could have entered my brain. It's all very difficult you see. My eyes spin as I meet my centre, I don't try to talk to it because it is obvious that it wouldn't answer but I hope it understands. The jet engine is taking off again but I'm filmy on the ground. Holding onto to the last bits of normality and sanity I have left in the huge void that I call a head.

I realize this is hard to comprehend and you have to trust me when I say that it is the same way for me. Everything and everybody is forming into slowly moving objects rather than their former bodies and energy-forms. It's like I'm awake and dreaming. I'm holding onto all I know while acknowledging that it isn't real and needs to be put out of it's misery. My two sides begin a discussion.

"This is very interesting," - the green man shouts at the red man.
*The sound of a jet passing*
"I know, someone has to turn the vacuum cleaner off though," he replied, joking.
"I hope this has no ill effects on the poor lad we call a host."
"I don't really care actually, we're just figments of his strange, sad and fragmented perception of imagination."
"That done and said let's go turn into something more useful like some cake or maybe porn."
"Good idea."

I suddenly open my eyes to find myself back in the blank existence of my being. It makes no sense but I know it to be true. Shouldn't facts enter into it. Shouldn't logic win? I guess not. It all makes less sense than a bag of peanuts and I'm actually happy. I know what I am and I know what I must do.

That said and done the last grain of sand in the world went to the ocean near by and drowned himself. It was a very dull moment and the slightly larger stone grunted and turned its other side, it would have at least if it had one or the power to turn himself.

TheMessage

Here's me falling to pieces.
Here's me trying to get up.
The ground begins shaking
and I've run out of luck.

The world begins spinning,
and cruel Faith, he is grinning
he knows he is winning.



Tere hommikust.

» Read More

If you're the kind of person who needs a little space ...


GO THE FUCK OUTSIDE! (link)

I would like to believe that there is some good in the world.
Some hope within the sewers we address as the human heart.
The purity of soul is a myth, as are all basic emotions : anger, hate, envy, anger, friendship and most of all love.
Chemistry within the body controls all our actions.
We are no better than machines and no worse than gods.
The only things that separate us from the basic carnivores is a suit and some rather spiffy spectacles.

This has been a secret announcement - don't tell anyone.