Pathetic

This is a post. This is the most intense and dramatic post that I have ever posted on my blog. I have never posted anything more serious than this post. And I am totally serious about that. I can't believe how serious I am being right now and you would be hard pressed to find someone who has ever posted anything more serious than this because I seriously did not expect to write anything this serious ever.

Flower

It is hard to imagine you, a perfect thing.

For there is no flower which is perfect.

Even the most beautiful ones wither and die away.

From the second the stem is snapped

producing that crisp crackling noise

as water from your veins mists out from the break.

The water that gave you life

that made you strong

that made you so tall and beautiful.

That water that carried minerals to you

that gave you thorns,

that gave you leaves

that gave you a wonderful scent

that gave you beautiful petals to display yourself to the world.

That made you love.

You begin to die.

Your petals whither

you change shade from a beautiful shade to an ugly brown

the strong neck that carried your head becomes weak and pendulous,

and you are discarded and forgotten.

But there is another kind of flower,

which people don't see as true beauty.

It is manufactured, not grown.

It is strong and crisp forever, but it does not smell of beauty

It is love.

But it is artificial. 

So how is my love so everlasting,

it is not artificial, it is alive,

it does not whither and die and it smells of beauty,

it is crisp and strong and never fading. 

poetry is kind of dumb

i am angry
and upset
but i want to be happy
and calm

Piggy

Peter Pan

Photoshop day

Random drawings

Caravan

As the caravan travels on,

Meeting strangers along the way,

All important, but none to you,

And when you started, this you knew.

There would be some to save your life,

And some to threaten it,

But which is which, and how to tell

Before you lose what’s yours?

Stars

Sometimes when the stars are out,

I look up.

We're alone in this universe, this is something I'm positive of.

But being alone is relative.

With no humanity, there would be no concept of being alone.

But with no humanity, the universe is oh so alone. 

How come the stars that shine brightest are the ones that trick us into believing there's another, somewhere.

Some people that will just take us away from where we are and bring us up to ascension. To the next world.

We want to believe that someone is up there watching.

Someone wants us to be more than we are.

We can't let them down.

It doesn't matter if it's true or not.

But, fuck it, lets just go full throttle here.

We're going to be better, and we're going to do more.

Let's do more.

You and I

You and I,

as I look in your eyes,

I see something deeper within.

There's something powerful slipping out.

And there's a powerful phrase that you say to me sometimes.

So simple, so elegant, so wonderful, and I don't even know what to say.

I love you.

Plank of Wood

Here I sit, alone, alone,
just a lonely plank of wood.
I used to be a mighty tree in a forest,
but one by one we were all cut down.
They cut me up, bit by bit, slowly taking me apart.
First the stump,
then the branches,
next the bark,
and then I sat divided.
Reunited after a truck ride,
they called me the 2x4.
Stacked up close to the rest.
I knew that it would not last.
One by one they were taken away.
They had different purposes.
One was meant for a playground toy,
one was meant for an office building,
one was meant for a dog house.
When my day came, I didn't know what to expect.
I arrived later at quite a scene,
a skeleton was before me,
a skeleton of trees.
It was very much alive though.
It was something different I had never seen before.
In a forest, you are able to see all of our neighboring trees, but they are so distant.
Everyone here was naked, exposed, stripped to the core,
and more importantly, they were all connected.
It was something amazing.

Breaking

All this time passes,
the structure standing tall.
Looking at it's beautifully finished walls,
Now that I have seen its guts, I know that this is not just a house,
It's a home.
This is the collaboration of all mankind bonding together to build a home for the future.
They can look back proudly and know that they did that,
they can feel a well open up, and draw from the fountain of life below.
They alone hold the key. They are the home makers,
they are the ones that work to bring us what we have forgotten.
They are beautiful people, and they are perhaps the wisest of us all.
Working from where there used to be nothing but dirt,
they rise up and make it into something beautiful.
They hold the key in their hands.
In the manila envelope, you may think the answer to the whole house lies,
but truly in the end it is their decision whether or not the house stands or falls.
Every nail, every board, every scrap of metal, everything left behind, wishes written on boards to be covered up and never seen again.
This will be a happy home because it is made of happy thoughts.
When you think about it,
it gives a new meaning to the word 'home'.
It's no longer a place you occupy, but it's an essential part of being alive. You are but the nails of your house,
every scrap of wood being held together by you.
Without you, the essential ingredient would be missing. There can be no house without nails, because without nails there is no support, just people being stiff as a board, never opening up their hearts to you. You need someone to get to the depths of your heart, and to make you feel like nothing else in the world can take you away from them, no hammer is strong enough to take you from the board, no nail fits more perfectly.

Great!

Today as eyes appear,
I glance around at them.
One by one they all say to me the same thing.
They are trapped, lonely, helpless.
And I cannot help but smile
because I know that I am not.

Too Quickly

The time passes.
Fast.
I like it, but at the same time,
there really is nothing worse.
Not that there was ever anything better.
I split myself up into three people.
That's enough to deal with this all,
right?
I get to work, I get to work, I get to work.

Dreamed.

I haven't posted anything in a while, so here's what I worked on today.

Enjoy? :D

______________________________________ 

           Anthony sat on the throne. It was old, gold paint chipping off, the once glorious red cushion was becoming worn and old. Where the chairs armrests used to have cushion was just bits of foam, and frayed red cloth around the edges, obviously it had been torn off by one of the previous kings, probably after some dispute. Oh, and there were splatters of multi-colored paint all over the chair, and when the king wasn't sitting down, a silhouette of a person was visible. In previous years, they would not have inaugurations, just whoever took the throne first would become the king, but after a few games of that, the rules were edited to provide for a longer game, not to mention the tapering interest in being the king. The throne was not the -ideal- seat in this game. While the rank of king was normally a name that held much rank, in this game, that was not at all what it was. Chosen by lottery, Anthony sat there somewhat helplessly. All of his subjects sat before him. 'Loyal' subjects was the phrase, was it not? In this game, it was nearly impossible to discern who was truly loyal and who was not. This was likely the last time Anthony was going to sit in his throne, or even go near it for that matter.

            The game 'Kings Assassin' was originally created by college students at some university somewhere, but after getting in a lot of trouble for shooting paintballs on campus, it was quickly banned from almost every single college campus in the United States. Regardless, it still stuck around. The premise of the game was simple, there were three factions of people. One group was the Knights. The Knights only job was to protect the king. The next group is the Assassins. Their job is to shoot the king. The last group are civilians. They have no job but to do whatever they wish to do and can be recruited into either faction, or just do some job. At the start of the game there is only one Knight, and one Assassin. It is their job to recruit whomever else is in the game into their factions. After the game was banned from college campuses, something of a following began for the game. Live action role-players, or 'LARPers' took notice of the game because of its premise, as well as fans of paintball. In just a few years, the game picked up in popularity, being pushed along by paintball companies who saw this as a chance to cash in. A few inspired entrepreneurs took it upon themselves to set up businesses focused completely around the game. Summer camps were created entirely around this game with crudely constructed houses, shops, and gardens scattered about, and everything was coated in a disgustingly colorful multitude of paint splatters. Anthony's friend convinced him, after months of begging, to try the game out, and wouldn't you know it, the first game Anthony plays, he is appointed the King. From what he heard, that is the one thing that you do NOT want to be.

            Luis, one of Anthony's best friends, was his one appointed knight for this game. He held a fairly weak looking weapon in his hands to the untrained eye, but to almost everyone in the throne room, it commanded respect. The gun seemed small and compact, but to those in the know, Luis had purchased one of the most powerful paintball guns on the market. The company that produced it, Dye, boasted that it was the most powerful and accurate gun that they had ever produced. New and shiny, not splattered with paint, its power almost emanated from it. As it should with the price of almost two-thousand dollars. This was clearly not a game that Luis was looking to lose, and Anthony didn't want it to be over as quickly as it had been other years. As such, assassinations on the day of the inauguration were prohibited this year.

            Luis let his paintball gun rest on its strap, and pulled out a scroll. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for attending the new king Anthony's inauguration today! This day we celebrate the reign of a new kind of king, a benevolent king, and the king who will live for months, if not days, to come!" he joked. The crowd giggled softly, a few cheers came from far back in the crowd.

            Anthony could feel the despair rising inside of him. Hearing his best friend even joke about him losing the game only a few days in filled him with despair. There were hundreds of people in the large throne room.

            "All of you have read the rules, I hope, so you should all know if you get hit five times, then you are dead. For the remainder of the game you will return to being a civilian. Lets see…" Luis said, looking down at the scroll. As if a fire was lit on his head, he looked up "We do NOT want a repeat of last years bulletfest, so for the first day of the game, there is absolutely no firing of ANY guns." Luis said, sternly. He looked back down to the scroll he was reading, trying to find his place, the crowd shuffled around, impatiently. "This game is going to be a little different than it is usually. The camp, our gracious hosts, have requested that they be able to host some events to keep things moving at a reasonable pace, and based on an overwhelmingly one sided poll, you all agreed that we let them implement whatever they want, so be ready for a somewhat less traditional game." Luis closed his mouth and observed the audience, and could tell that no one really wanted to be stuck here listening to him talk. He looked back at Anthony, who also seemed pretty uncomfortable, then down to the scroll. "Well, I think that's about it. There are some other minor things, but I'll just post this scroll up on the town message board and you can all look at it at your own leisure." Luis closed up the scroll. "All hail the new king!" Luis cheered. The crowd seemed to agree as an uproarious cheer filled the room, and Luis grinned, then nodded to Anthony.

            Anthony stood up "Alright then, I guess that's it! Everyone is excused!" he said.

            Luis quickly walked to Anthony as the crowd started rabbling amongst themselves. "What are you doing!" Luis said, gently pushing Anthony back into his chair. "You don't stand up, and you don't dismiss everyone!"

            Anthony looked at his friend slightly bewildered. "I thought that's why you nodded to me!" he replied, nervously. The last thing Anthony wanted was to lose his only friend in the game.

            "No, I was just trying to calm you down a little, you looked like you were about to wet your pants." Luis said, trying to stay serious and not grin at his own words. Anthony sighed, and slunk down in his chair. Luis frowned in disapproval. "Look, I know this is your first game, but you said you read all the rules and you agreed to play, it's not my fault you were appointed king the first time you played." he said trying to cheer up his friend.

            "It's not that, it's that you promised me that I wouldn't be in this role in my first game." Anthony groaned.

            Luis let out a chuckle in response, "Well it's not my fault for thinking that, I've never been king and I've been playing for years." He patted his friend. "Look, I have to go start recruiting knights before the shitstorm that is tomorrow. Once most of the people leave, I suggest you take a walk around town and see what's going on. I'm generally not an advocate for the disgusting role-playing that goes on at these things, but you'd probably enjoy that sort of thing. Peasants need the acknowledgement of their king. If you need help, go talk to one of the Admins. There should be plenty around. If anything weird is going on, try to find me. I'll be around the town square for a while trying to deal with the people who want to be knights."

            Anthony sighed and nodded. "Alright, I'll do my best to survive." Anthony said, sighing again.

            Luis smiled. "Great! See you in a while, bud." He said, and with that, turned and started for the doors.

            Anthony sat in his chair, and watched as the crowd talked amongst themselves. The crowd as a whole looked military ready. Almost every one of them was decked out with a variety of military style gear. The players were a variety of shapes and sizes, skinny, fat, short, tall, old, and young. On the other hand, there were also many people dressed in renaissance faire clothing. A visible separation could be seen from where Anthony was between the two groups, the renaissance group seemingly more interested in Anthony as they often glanced up at him, then nervously looked away if he made eye contact. Anthony sat on his throne, boredly as people slowly made their way out of the room, others sticking around to chat and strategize. According to Luis it was ‘improper for a king to leave before his subjects did’ whatever that meant, even though he was extremely bored.

            Trying to find something to pass the time with, Anthony fiddled with the buttons on his ceremonial ‘king swag’. After about five minutes, most of the room had cleared out, almost all of the military looking guys, and most of the renaissance people; however, a small group of about thirty people donning renaissance garb remained in two separate groups. One group of them were moving towards the front of the throne room, closer to the throne. “Uh, hello, um… er..” Anthony stumbled for words, “Loyal subjects?” He asked, his voice rising in a questioning way.

            “Greetings, king!” a rather fat looking man said, he looked somewhat out of place in renaissance clothing, though Anthony thought he might look out of place regardless of what he was wearing.

            “What um… ails… you?” Anthony said, sitting up right in his chair, as people watched, Anthony doing his best to seem kingly.

            “Uh, nothing ails me, king. I was just chosen as the messenger to give you this scroll.” He said, bowing his head as he moved closer, handing the scroll to Anthony.

            “Thank you... uh… peasant.” Anthony said.

            The crowd giggled appreciatively. The fat man broke character for a second, and moved closer to Anthony. “Thanks for trying to play the role, it’s always fun to see new faces give roleplaying a shot.” He said, adding a quick wink, and then he quickly backed up, and turned for the door. The rest of the crowd all bowed respectfully, and slowly made their leave, leaving only ten to fifteen people behind, who didn’t seem associated to them anyways. Anthony slowly unraveled the scroll and quickly skimmed through it. The ‘Red-Hands’ were apparently hosting a meeting tonight at 8 P.M. A celebratory feast for the king, hoping for a long reign. It was written in some form of old broken olde English.