The Sock-Monkey As Alone

 a feeling so specific and hopeless  he laughs "At least you're not homeless."  slaughtered like sheep  "you sow what you reap".  Yet it's coercion they use to herd us.

 a rapist and convicted felon  is likely who Satan dwells in  he's given a pass  for being an ass  while Biden is charged with a pardon

  it's forbidden fruit, glad to give a turn a kindness that makes my heart churn a taste that is loved by connoisseur's of composing music none of us have earned

  The madness lacks nearly everything. I listen to the handcuffed angel scream "You could save my life, let me have what's mine". but She's dope sick in my fever dream.

  there's a argument askew both obvious and confused we all think were right and willing to fight without saying anything new

 still working on the skirmish game version of Panzer Strider but until it is finished here is the expanded rules of star punks (set int he same universe) and collected stories from that universe. it is cot finished yet a revision should come out at the end of next month. but all constructive criticism welcome and appreciated   . https://dharmadischarge.itch.io/panzer-strider-or-star-punk-stories  

 So I made a tunnel goons hack for those who are interested. I am still working on panzer strider. this game exists in the same setting as that game. Just though I would share here that I am still alive. this is a ttrpg I hope you dig it.     https://dharmadischarge.itch.io/star-punks

 

   Chapter one Drifting through the lake of stars. Out of the port hole of the celestial cruiser christened Giga-Death, we see a small starship large enough to hold a hundred persons drifting serenely through the lake of stars. Aziel Bartholomew lay in his bunk in his cell waiting for the trial that would lead to his execution. He knows that By the standard of the Scarlet Templars, he is guilty. He betrayed the royal family, and embarrassing the Royals is a cardinal mistake for anyone living around these parts. The Celestial Dynasty is an empire in the galaxy known as the lake of stars. This empire has over a hundred thousand planets within its space. Each one has a king. Each king has an army. This is an age of fragile peace. Every gambit of the political spectrum is expressed in how these planets are governed. Some near utopian democracies while others are prisons for breeding prisoners. The kingdom is diverse but power is the name of the game. Aziel killed tw...

 "If i can live in your dream you can live in mine." - Bob Dylan.    I have had one of roughest years of my life.   Thought about deleting this blog and getting rid of my internet presence. I decided though I have said don't be ashamed of who you used to be for nearly fifteen years and I agree with that but am tired. Like you are most likely tired, this year has stunk. It's hard finding meaning in the contradictions of life. I don't want to share to much on personal stuff but I had all my teeth pulled six months ago. I have had no dentures or teeth FOR six months. it's has been rough. I lost like seventy pounds and have been eating mashed potatoes and oatmeal all year. I finally should get my dentures in the next week. So I can start learning to sing with them and talk and such. I have decided that I am not going to focus on confessional writing / deeply autobiographical writing because I think I have reached a point with where I can share things with friends ...

Your eyes are brighter than shooting stars. Where life lives on the edge of your smile. The fire is forged in you (or what we are). Eternal without the joy of the wild share some of The end of the beginning The ups and downs without resting states, You are the song I pursue to sing Waiting for the judgment of destiny  I wish I was inspiring as you  A servant of our God eternal  I know your aware of his love’s truth. I am grateful chey (it is that simple) But may you serve as the song of our lord Your the harmony accompanying the chords

When I was a kid I was sexually abused by my moms cousin. I didn’t even know what had happened till my uncle showed a hentai about demons raping women. I did drawings inspired by the hentai and my parents who never gave me the talk thought I was a serial killer or demon possessed because I was extremely sheltered as far as culture I was exposed too as far as they knew. Yet my dad watched serial killer documentary’s on A&E they freaked me out because I though I was like them because of the drawings they discovered in my closet. This has lead to a huge amount of guilt and self hatred.  Example I have always had a fascination with bondage stuff but never let myself indulge in it even with my partners who share in interest in it. If only because I just have some hang ups with it. I made a friend who I loved talking to but because I am so fucked up and I feel like it is impossible for me not to screw shit up. I am not talking to her right now. Spent most of the last couple of days s...

 I woke crying again The worm inside my heart I am chasing the life I am seeking It feels like the world is ending My dignity goes down swinging it's a painful hope say a prayer for me Thunder is born by lighting

  Panzer Strider:  or, We're all wayward bound By, Drew Freak. Thomas Roberts is being court marshaled. The man is in a cell and his Panzer Strider (a biomechanical clone that has been genetically modified to be used as a psychically controlled bipedal tank) is going to be broken down to be used as raw materials in a printer. Thomas stopped his unit from massacering a village on a small moon of Toi-715. They had their orders and he had a conscience.  However when the Yama Yama man enters his life... Things get Phawking weird. The Yama Yama man is a near-omnipotent ambiguous force of nature and he looks like Koko the clown from the Max and Dave Fleischer cartoons. He gives Thomas Roberts a ten-can of spun sugar (looks and tastes like cotton candy and this stuff gives the user psychic powers [though it can trigger psychosis and addiction.]) Then the clown disappeared. thomas used his psychic powers to fight his way to his panzer strider and flew off to freedom. But, Thomas ...

  I have been thinking about empathy and Pynchon . How  the man can find a way to dramatize strange outright strange and or scary sexual situations. To know the depravity we are all capable of. The internal monolog of a death drive. Of running toward oblivion with arms open with joyful tears at the very thought of certain doom. Yet still, those silly cornball songs lift the spirit ...  follow that bouncing ball and sing along (and all that). Yet some people think the bad puns are not enough... I remember distinctly a critic who said something along the lines of "The novel's inventiveness is not enough, it collapses under its  own  weight of ideas till the puns no longer transcend" (I am paraphrasing the critic tried to find the quote but am too tired to look it up right now). The central idea of Gravity's Rainbow is the joy of suffering. That it is possible hope is an act of masochism the universe can not accommodate and it is outright losing patience with the v...

 I am working on panzer strider again. experimenting with a much more complex activation mechanism for the combat. Will start writing on the rule book within the month. though no promises on when it will be finished. I have ambitions to make it more of a table top mecha pilot simulator then a straightforward skirmish game. Think of front mission meets Gundam wing as far as the vibe. where each person controls one mecha and it maxes out at four players. it makes sense to allow players to control more then one mech in some circumstances but like battletech the system I am experimenting with snowballs in complexity exponentially. I am playing with a more real robot vibe then the psychedelic phantasy star influenced early build that is up on the blog. I was originally planning on sharing some of the mechanisms... I did that way to early last time. I have been thinking about the game a lot over the last few years. experimenting and developing concepts. though most are still very rough. ...

I am Feeling like I am already dead I want to know, why? is there no hope that this life will improve or is it a posture? or worse   can       I         not            face the                  sincerity The unironic bleakness of trying to be honest To myself for once This isn't the time for rhyme and meter whatever time it is it is close to midnight The glow from the screen of my laptop as I type honesty is respecting your time without it becoming the business of being a door-to-door salesman of framing every indignity I have seen this week betrayal, coercion, and goodbyes of being blamed     and threatened without even knowing why I keep telling myself The impossible task of this poem Is being interesting but sane

the burden in my hand Wishing I could start, anew I know it's raining again yet, without an answer I feel the need         to express             some consolation prize

The gentle cliches like rain on the pavement The clinging of truth to tired metaphors like vines growing on a lattice Though in reverse I thought I reached a point... where I could let go... I have a practice: I call it depression. I sleep a whole bunch I eat to much and I try to not do what defines me   I  think I will continue for some time unable to talk about what I am going through   It's the nature of the fire to consume what keeps it alive.    

(Headlights in the dark) In the near dark Right before me Slowly stalking Forward No other lights on in this Backroad but those headlights A Window rolls down ...anxious I wait... And older man Glaring in my face He screams a banshees holler ...It would curdle milk Pedal to the floor he roars off Laughing I dont know where I am going after this But still I continued my search Trapped in the old poem Dreading the long walk home Dreading having nothing to say

(Little miss Sunrise) She is  bundled up  against single digit Temperatures The shovel  isn't getting the job done Returning now With a crowbar in hand Like a horror film She deals with the ice With heavy swings Lifted over her head (arms raised high) Chunk! chunk! chunk! The ice cracks Her nearly numb hands Can feel  her bones Like an X ray "I hope the neighbors didnt see that" She says to no one She starts her car Ready to start the day And get to work

No Love is lost for the end is near What we lose will make things clear "Contaminate memes With your 8 bit dreams" He sing's but no one's there to hear

                                          "To start with, here is a list of things I hate." -Tim Rogers.   I based my life on a lie, but the reality is there is a new mode of expression... It is irony through irony as sincerity or as it used to be called sarcasm.   Tim Rogers was my hero who I stalked (I didn't actualy stalk him I @ mention him four or five times on Twitter). then one day after a spree of @ mentions he @ mentioned me back, with a napalm bomb of reality, just the two-letter word "hi" and I was destroyed.   The important thing here isn't that Tim Rogers owned me (which he did!) it is that for some reason this articulate funny man brings out the inner troll in internet losers like me in a way that is embarrassing to the species.   It is li...