For the second time today the clocks around the world stopped. First there was the threat of world war three then the bombs dropped. The mushroom clouds swallowed all of history in a few bites. Yet the poor bastard... Edward Blue-water had a girl on his mind. Things were not over maybe especially in the afterlife. His daughter was supposed to be born today. He was running next to his wife as the doctor's wheeled her toward the maternity ward. She was screaming at him. "I don't care what I said to better damn well give me some painkillers or I will get drunk on your blood!" "That's it honey just keep breathing, that's right deep breaths." Said Edward. "I swear to the most high I will make you pay for putting me in this situation." Said his wife. That was the last thing she said before the mushroom clouds sang their song. A quire of destruction in the temple of tomorrow. His daughter was a late term abortion as were any of his hopes for the...
1 Nirvana - in utero The band that changed my life. I thought I was Kurt Cobain for over a year hallucinating and psychotic. A band that is in my DNA that I am still trying move passed. from he symmetrical melodies droning post industrial riff and amateurish anti-hero solos. I made every kid in the 90s think I could do that and of course we couldn't... Kurt executed rock n roll for being the unobtainable dream that only madness and purest pursue nowadays as the rest of the rest of the world samples those old hits or plays in similarly sad cover bands. 2 Slipkot - All hope is gone. The maggots on the corpse of rock n' roll was Heavy Metal where all the worst tendency's of rock n roll are what you aspired to. Cliche extremes of horror film imagery and pornography's emotional complexity. A nightmare that swallowed the dreams of a generations looking for the party... though with understanding we approached it like Jason approached a victim in Friday the Thirteenth. and ...
I thought of closing this blog. Of giving myself a fresh start. The past is as in flux as tomorrow will be. We can not cling to a hope beyond that of "God willing." But, ultimately, I decided to wait to see how next year makes me feel. I have wanted to move forward from depressive rambling. Or, the digression into post-psychotic trauma porn. I think art can be healing, but you have to be willing to be healed. You have to let the past have it's own life and yet not let it drag you down with the ship of expectations. I am writing and reading almost every day ( at one point, I was reading two hundred pages a day.) Closing the door of distraction and hoping I can move beyond saying I am the worst writer that has ever lived. So I can make myself take responsibility for my words, I type out for the hope of personal progress. I always wanted to be a renaissance man. To prove wrong the notion that sniveling has a place in discourse. to remove them like weeds surrounding any of ...
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