Make sense dammit!

"You!" I said and pointed a blaming finger at the hooded man who stood examining him. The hooded man, we shall call him: "W" for short, stood before me, bathed in a light so bright I could not for all my trying see his face. I blamed W for everthing, and nothing, feeling so sure in my guts he was the one responsible for all the missdeeds in the world. A world of blame and curses flooded over him like an avalanche. However, from every bad word W recieved he seemed as unaffected as only the truly emotionless ones can. And he grew, or so I thought. Later I have come to the conclusion that it was I that shrank. Regardless, W was now not only unaffected and unrecognisable, he was also bigger than me. So I became scared and cast away all thought of blame and hid instead. W found me every time without having looked for me, or even moved. Silently I cursed him for exicsting, and I was undone.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

Nice little rant eh? Make sense out of it and I'll happily shave your back for a nickle! (unrelated reference) I need a shower and sleep.

Logging

I read an old log today. 3 years old to be exact. It was obviously a conversation between two people who no longer exicst. Curiously one carried the same name as I. But what he said seemed so naive; like a child waiting for the world to become just as he expected. Furthermore he seemed unable to pick up those little, vague hints that would have made his life less miserable. I could but pity him and hope that he'd learn from his mistakes, both past and present, so that when he realized his wrongs and missteps, he would be able to set things right. But then again, who am I to know?

Ants and blarghs make good bedfellows

The ants are busyer than ever, scurrying aroud like they do. Getting in my way, foiling my plans and my dreams. I guess that's what you get in an anthill with no queen. No calming prescence to set things straight, just dozens of confused, agitated and purposeless ants. Damned be this myriad of .......

Enough of that I guess. As you might have noticed I'm a tad busy nowadays, which explains the lack of blogging for a while. My life has reverted to the primal stage of making the days pass, and I'm quite good at that. So they do. And that's, well, sadly enough, all.

The Door

The Ice rushes forward towards the massive doorway hoping to reach past it before it finds the time to close. Having been created from form the chill of loneliness, sadness and pain, its only purpose is freezing that which is beyond the doorway. Madly it chases, as before, intent on making it this time. The door creaks and starts to close, slowly at first but picking up the pace, making it a race between the ice and the door. The ice slams to the fine worked door just as i closes and has to see itself beaten once more. Furious it freezes all that is around it. Slowly, very slowly it thawes, except for som places; the keyholes. Each keyholde frozen solid, above it a name; the name of the ones holding those specific keys. A new keyhole have appeared with the others, and with it a new name. One can still its freshness and judging by the amount of ice in and around it, it was a finely crafted key. The ice presses on, trying to get through the keyholes, but as of still they are too few for it to have an effect. The door however is affected; the iced keyholes affect the opening mechanism of the door, each one slightly more, making it harder to open.

Curses

I'm alone again, it's never easy, it's never "just" a breakup. Curse the world, curse whatever's wrong with me, and most of all: curse all the persons leading me to this. This potential madness, this dark mind, this ice of the heart. Never before have I felt such an urge to seal myself in ice, only to watch the world speed by through a layer of frozen carelessness. What manner of bad fortune have cursed me to relive this torment time and again. My sins were never many and never dire, yet I pay tenfold, nay thousandfold for them. Even the ones I never comitted. Is this the price for being born me? Is this what I must go through to amuse the gods of fate? I spit my curses over this wasteland of humanity as I craft a shell of pure me. Nothing gets between me and me.

....Brooding in the Darkness

I'm sitting in the darkness, brooding for myself, thinking dark thoughts reflecting my even darker mood. In my inner eye all people I look at die, by my hand. Not because I really want to kill anyone, it's just that kind of mood. And when I see her picture I cannot distinguish any details, my eyes veiled over by tears and my inner eye covered in oily black. I cry out to the darkness with the voice of a dreadfull silence, my heart trying to beat away the oncoming frost, while the mind spirals inward in a whirlpool of despair. I lose myself in the moments, letting them patch over each other, time slipping like it's having trouble deciding where it was at. I close my eyes and let all color flow away, I shut my mind and draw a great breath, sucking up all the corruption and bad air I can hold. I fall backwards, hoping that noone will ever catch me.

What to tell the world?

I've been bugged about writing more often..... *sigh* I write all the time, I just never post. I write line after line, time after time, and then, instead of posting them, I just delete them. If you read this then this post has been one of the lucky ones. One of those I chose to keep. I know of one thing I wanted to write about, though it might be that I don't. I wanted to tell the tale of the guy I was at the LARP I participated in recently. But I never get the time. It's just....one of these things I guess, with growing up. Suddendly all the world's at your feet, ALL THE TIME. So this is all you get at the moment... Perhaps I'll feel more......writy, later.