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Showing posts from March, 2011

Kafka on Wheels: A Sudden Walk

When it seems we have finally decided to stay home of an evening, have slipped into our smoking jackets, are sitting at a lit table after supper, and have taken out some piece of work or game at the conclusion of which we customarily go to bed, when the weather outside is inclement, which makes it perfectly understandable that we are staying at home, when we have been sitting quietly at our table for so long that our going out would provoke general astonishment, when the stairwell is dark and the front gate is bolted, and when, in spite of all, in a sudden access of restlessness, we get up, change into a jacket, and straightaway look ready to go out, explain that we are compelled to go out, and after a brief round of goodbyes actually do so, leaving behind a greater or lesser amount of irritation depending on the noise we make closing the front door behind us, when we find ourselves down on the street, with limbs that respond to the unexpected freedom they have come into with a partic…

Imperatives of celerity

After all that was said and done, nothing seemed to stall. The duo rushed to the structure cradling only affable expectations. One of them, carrying only his trusted weapon of choice, of captured memories and biased stillness, while the other carries a light bag of tricks, of secrets only the two of them know, for they trust each other enough to share each other’s sins and tragedies beneath the awful scent of mischief and prescribed suppositories. They run as fast as they could, even though the path they were running at was without reassurance of correctness. The trouble of losing his cellular gadget was stirring his guilt for his apparent carelessness. It was his fault all along, dragging his merry man with him to ease the headfirst crash without any restraint or support. His friend was not at all stupid either, he was well aware of the situation but left with little choice than to choose despair, but even so failing to argue his guilt by association. His rushed temperament was hardl…

Mathematics of illusion

The foolishness resounded an uneasy blow when the two realised they were on a highway to uncharted nowhere. The silence of the transport as it snails itself towards the destination proved to be excruciatingly fatal, their hands tied warmly behind their backs and ropes tightly knit around their necks. A cigarette to calm the senses would not suffice if at all. What was necessary to one was to find the intended location and get the responsibility over with the sooner the better, and that find a way to cure this numb folly into oblivion with a faint echo of whisper circling in between the ears and back, like happiness in the spring on a warm day's night on one of London's faithful boroughs. His attire that night was the only thing genuine about everything, and even the hardest button to button was seraphic in terms of symbols hidden between the lines as the burning flow of wine traversed through his throat an hour from then, with all the world to see his lunacy already intertwine…

Barbecue with my nugs

Something peculiarly interesting was notable when I bought my favourite kiddie nuggets from McDonald's last night. Well, it wasn't the actual nuggets itself that was in question but its accompanying sauce.

The barbecue dipping. It was different now, the container was slightly bigger and more accommodating, and the taste varied as well. It was a lot more spiced than previous. Got me wanting a drink after another. It's also a lot better taste-wise. The old one was slightly disappointing. It always lacked something despite being so tasty. It stunk too!

Not minding the mole in my thumb, this photo from above clearly shows the tiny bit dramatic change of improvement. It's more or less like sauce now than it was not so long ago when it resembled clay. I love it! I want more of it, in fact. I always find myself choosing this dipping above all else. Beats me why.


'What kind of animal are you?' asked the fox.
'Can't you see I'm a dog?' answered Otis, annoyed.
'How can you be a dog? You don't even have a tail!' asked the silly fox, smirking and galloping everywhere.
'I do have a tail, look!' exclaimed Otis, wiggling its tiny coil.
'Ha! You call that a tail? THIS is a tail!' said the fox, swaying its vibrant tail around, laughing.
Otis looked and walked away.

Between night and day

First week of the two-week break. I'm finding it difficult to adjust once again to non-productiveness. I can hardly tell the difference between my eating and sleeping patterns. Still have many things to be done, bank, tuxedo, piece, all of which I'm hoping to christ to cram mayhap tomorrow if willing. Bitch please.


And there it was, thick as the duly appointed snow, all wrapped up in pink and awaiting annihilation. Faint whispers from the bosom quickly crawled up to the neck where it hurts. Someone had to pay the price. And when somebody did, nobody really understood how it all came to be.
The tiny freckles marched on making waves outside tradition. It was to mark the glorious victory over steadfast domain. In all accounts it was blasphemous, none of them really counted when it matters the most. To them they were animals who get beat up. How many times do they have to gamble for their lives? They have to survive to take over the fears that they hide inside, all wild and elating. 
The harrowing brought forth cretins from all walks. These vermin pay bucket loads to make others suffer. And while the situation is on the other hand quite formidable in terms of flexibility, all the silent treatment they received were met with vicious repercussions. People saw madness stare straight right through their e…

Fickle open-endedness

No puritanical bullshit for the days to pass, the shame slowly subsides. Pieces of plastic dragged to the edge paving way to the lights. The sound of relief echoing from the shadowy background of the morgue intensifies, dropping a louder beat with every forceful thump. All the white horses and knights panic and frolic as the days come into light bearing nothing more than just regrets and mistakes, vendetta against the oppressors. The human menagerie has finally come to an abrupt conclusion if only for a very short while. And while the meeting in question bounces off into ideas of self-inflicting stabs to the groin, none of which held ground into the proving. It only dissolved into something perverse and worse and worse, adversely affecting the outcome of what was to come, of what will become, of what had been done. No justification held more meaning other than the own, the individual, swiftly switching into something more of an ego. Trapped in a maddening rage of witnessing altruism b…


Finally on the verge of having to create something valuable, a worthy cause to an already wasted pursuit. This hopefully will bear mark worthy of recognition not for fame but vindication. Perhaps soon.
Whenever possible I try hard not to offend anyone via political correctness. Perhaps I can find a theme in that. Dozens of possibilities, none of which sturdy enough to pass the mark.

Heart of glass

The spirits came to me wicked. At the moment of the first sign of release it went to show how broken the spirits' spirits were, and it's only a matter of time before they put the blame on me, shove the blade up my throat, and pretend everything had been unduly compromised by me from the get-go.
It never got going.
I picked up where I left off as always, picking scraps of crap from those who do wrong and feign ignorance to the situation in order to avoid conflict. I ate one fecal thought of a spirit who released her piece of mind, and in doing so automatically made me the villain, only proven by the fact that I played by with her scheming, seemingly supportive ways. This selfishness she saw in me was a direct compliment if not for the hostile nature of the claim. If said in a rhetorical compliment then maybe perhaps I may reconsider, reconvene with the entire pretentious barrio. The embarrassment was thankfully blunt, so as not to harm whatever it is that remained of my lingerin…

Foreword: By Steel and Blood

Amongst all the guilds in Corriven, only one stood apart from the rest. It was Peacehaven.
Often imitated, never duplicated, Peacehaven now serves as one of the most well-respected guardian guilds in all the lands. It is an academy and a sanctuary of sorts from travellers to thrillseekers to venture forth and find their life's calling. Despite having a renowned alumni of heroes already making mark on their legacies, the guild has a notorious reputation of their capricious will to admit people. There are no known requirements for admission and they have recently proposed a highly covert invite-only passage into their community. Although the place in itself is knowingly protective of their vast resources of knowledge, they are still widely accepted to be rational and that the necessity of the guild in itself is highly favourable and outweighs even the faults associated with it. Founded by Duke Leicentinn six hundred years ago when the lands were occupied by Jecian rule, now it stands…

S2: Discord

LERIN The assassins have reportedly gone mad of hearing about the rumours, Jervith. What is it that you will have me do?
JERVITH None as of this moment, Lerin. I would rather savour it for the time being. Let us all take refuge at the fact that we are all witnessing a change in history so grand and mighty in scale that not even the prophet has the audacity to accomplish.
LERIN Your heresy knows no bounds, Jervith.
JERVITH Hah! Let them know and feel what it is like to walk amongst truest nobles. I hold no grudges whatsoever of my past, Lerin, and neither should you.
LERIN I have always seen my past as an excuse to cultivate my ambition, as a matter of fact. It fuels me as much as gold fuels Armammoth’s.
JERVITH Bah! That fucking dwarf knows nothing about ambition.
LERIN And yet he has it all. Money, women, power, fame, you name it.
JERVITH Tell me you are not jealous of the dwarf, Lerin.
LERIN If only it was that easy to explain.
JERVITH Let us go back to the topic at hand, shall we?
LERIN Yes. About the …

S1: Feast

MAIDEN Pollus from House Griggor has just arrived, milady.
DELANNA Bring him to the reception hall with all the other guests. Inform him that I shall not engage with him as long as he does not apply any sort of fragrant soap that would mask away his putrid body odour.
DELANNA Now go, and leave me be.
[DALE comes in]
DALE What seems to be troubling you, my dear, sweet Delanna?
DELANNA It’s you, father. Tonight’s feast commemorating your honour seems to be going well.
DALE I suppose so. But I can’t fail to notice that you do not seem to be enjoying it as much as I and your mother do.
DELANNA I have responsibilities with the guild, father. The council would have me executed if they knew I wasn’t fit to the task at hand.
DALE You exert yourself too much, dear child.
DELANNA Not as much as I desire. By the way, father, what news comes from Durant?
DALE He... well, it’s a touchy subject you may or may not want to hear. I wouldn’t want to spoil your evening with unnecessary tales of your brother’s de…

Dire calamity

People from all walks have been talking about the wake of destruction left by another unfortunate tragedy, a tsunami, that swept Japan and some neighbouring places like a big broom of liquid. Shocking, to be honest, when I stopped to watch midway after buying a drink from the cafeteria earlier today seeing on BBC what it was like to be gobbled upon by nature's fury. I have Japanese friends that are extremely saddened by this and I dearly pray for their safety and well-being, including all the other people who are traumatised by the incident.
Prithee lull nature back to slumber.


She had no idea what she had done, what she had unleashed, what she suffocated in him at that very moment. All the humanity vested upon him by his creator all drifted away by the sheer force of her blabbering, the slightest provocation of her gentle nature dissipated in thin air as was his. To her he was orange, to him she was apple. When the clock struck ten the sudden hostility became apparently clear, that he was to be what the deities intended him to be. His purposelessness now clear of suspicion, his mind forlorn. What audacity. It this was charisma reeking out of her bosom, I'd like to see her spread the legs for a more vile alternative. Devastated by the results of the conversations, he began thinking of a harsher consequence, mocking and offending him at a position of his vulnerability, clawing her thin nails into a cemented hole of absurdity. He grows ultimately sick of the constant depravity, the inoperable conflicts, and blame games, get right on to the ultraviolence.

25 or 6 to 4: Prelude to date of birth

I live in a land of mothballs and fury. The stench of rotten eggs burning wake me up every single morning just to remind how ghastly the condition of willpower inside me shallowly engulfs the single-ended consequences of youth irate slightly baring the naked soul. Man 98 blasts through from the eardrums, rolling and kicking each notes making an image of mimicked career out of thin air. Eyes wide open, teeth gnashing in disgust, fists clenched armed to the bone, everything was not according to scheme. All of it, from the tiniest detail possible, was chicanery, a stratagem for fools foolish enough to fall for it. The penile erection was ignored half-empty from the yesternight exhibition, pillaging the bassinet of ejaculation and spit, rose when struck by light and pierced by pruritus. Whatever was left of the crime scene leaves much to be desired, such was my way of living, living as if dying, dying as if alone, alone as if lonely, lonely as if dead.
The mechanism of voodoo strolled arou…


I would have killed myself at that time. I would have killed myself and killed them both at the same time. From that point onwards the gun I was holding heated up in my grip like meat on grill struggling to calm the offended nerves. The moaning and the betrayal became apparent that everything in life would end at that particular moment. All the hardships I endured in the past do not equate to the anguish and sorrow that I felt. There was only the intention to kill and be killed. This downfall would be my last.
Badly shook up I bent my elbow and lifted my arm up to aim the pistol at them both. Tears which for years did not show up suddenly had the audacity to surprise me at the last minute. It was time to end it all right then and there. 
I fired the gun instantly killing the perpetrator and my best friend. My aim wanders across the room dazed by the disbelief of having to bear the truth and pain brought on by the situation. Shrieking in horror, she immediately pulls away his lifeless sh…