Sunday, 28 June 2015

A Gentle Molestation

Had I the words to say the things I want to say,
I want to ask the world for forgiveness.
For the air endures me and keeps me alive.
For the light that shines upon those that deserve only the dark.

But I digress. I find this self-pity humiliating.
I have been embarrassed by you and you and you.
Perhaps you too, even from the very first.
A man can say a man can only suffer for so much for far too long.
If I should be smited today from the very sky that domes me,
then I gladly accept without fear of retaliation.

But who will have the audacity and power
to smite me out of spite?
God?
A mental construct borne from the fear
of the unknowable sight.
To besmirch the physical man from his emotional state
and trade its concept of fear with the image of this omnipotent being
is to betray the very foundation of man's consciousness verily.

Wednesday, 17 June 2015

One queer sunny evening

yesterday perpetual boredom led me to do something i have been aching to do in quite awhile move so what happened was i whimsically turned away from this laptop and went straight to proper gear the flops were bad though i could say it took me five hours to do a whole walk from shepherds bush to the outskirts of twickenham approximately from around five in the afternoon under the waning hours of the solar heat until eleven in the evening which was around the time father would have returned from work i did it out of spite from my current predicament that which is comparable to a sloth perhaps worse and i needed to spit at any concept of comfort now that i am of the realisation that i could be getting old as other older people have made me aware i enjoyed the walk thoroughly i enjoy every pain endured and thought of it as more of something that i deserve than something which prohibits me from doing things because i have to be frank i have been doing nothing but nothing over the past year or so and it is becoming disgustingly uncomely for someone of my age and someone of potentially my calibre i measure myself highly in terms of spirit not so much of with resolve i did stop on a few occasions particularly when i reached chiswick it was a breezy walk not too far from shepherds bush i realise i just kept going straight until i found a sign to richmond and i figured i might as well head into that direction i did spend some time in a starbucks in chiswick getting my writing groove on or so i thought the moleskine mechanical pencil that i shoplifted long ago ran out of bullets and had to procure some one of these days after writing this perhaps so i sat there with my grande mocha frapuccino sneakily nabbed some mints along with it and my normal request of a starbucks cup with ice cold tap water spent my hour or so noticing passers by and whatnot and then played some monster hunter unite along with it a feeling with which i thoroughly despise the g ranked red khezu i fought was fucking mental took me forty or so minutes to end that single phallic piece of shit dickhead had to consume a large amount of my supplies including my sanity using only a rank seven hidden breaker with skills that include a large attack boost an earplug and reckless abandon +1 that shit normally deals high amounts of damage but it never seems to be the case when i go against this red bitch queso fucker i almost couldn't bear it but i eventually succeeded i almost followed it up by going against an emerald congalala but that fartsy bozo was too tanky and i could not be bothered to go on after that previous encounter gave up and resumed my walk from chiswick i went southwest more towards my destination which is richmond i didnt want to revisit some places that stirred some sentimental value within me or memories which served to harm me especially of those that connects me with you know who i was fortunate to arrive there before it got really dark in fact i could assume by then that it was around eight or nine i arrived in richmond and saw the place still lively as last i recall it to be figured i could probably see or meet the chinese place i used to work in which did not really last for very long went inside a restaurant asking for a job out of whateverness i had no cv so i had to mosey as quickly as i came in i really didnt having meaningful interaction with strangers at all which i was hoping to do wanted to relive that magic of my travel experiences this one was so minor compared to that it did remind me sometimes of it especially the part where i arrived in richmond and decided i should follow the thames path which led me to twickenham after a long winding road where it got darker and darker with each step i encountered a place where a concubine of a certain king george once held residence and all i could do was watch and hope and marvel at the view of it all from my distance once i arrived in twickenham everything was about to close some restaurants that were still open however were empty and in dire need of a riot the nearest bus stop led me to believe i was outside london and could not be fully sure if that was truly the case there was no sign of the underground anywhere although from further walk i did discover a bus stop that would have led me straight back to hammersmith i was actually in it until i realised that my oyster was empty and the driver would not take coins even if it meant my life so i carried on and my feet caved in sooner moreso than later i was wearing my fathers crocs and though the experience began on a slightly comfortable note it ended with me limping back towards waterloo station from god knows where i ended up feltham or some place strawberry hill perhaps i could not honestly tell there was a woman with a dog who frightened me out of my wits as they exited an alleyway i think she said something to me but i did not catch her words nor do i have any intentions of making my cowardice open to her ridicule i moseyed on and surrendered when i saw the nearest national rail station on the corner i would have kept going but i had no supplies and my feet were ill prepared i arrived in waterloo at about midnight when its shops were only about to close but not before i nicked a pen or so on my way home i would do this experience again but before i arrived home and slept i realised i may have induced febrility upon myself i washed my dirtyass feet to realise blisters had already formed right below my right toe i will not be fazed and hindered however i am planning to make another one of these with my kathmandu in tow and proper shoes to boot no pun intended i wanted to visit poole or bournemouth perhaps brighton maybe who knows really but i need gear and the right amount of time i want to be kept busy and i want to inflict a bit more pain to myself a pain i believe which is more productive and helpful than overall detrimental it felt more like an exercise really than a chore that part where i walked the thames reminded me so much of my solitary ride from milngaive to fort william the first one before me and you know who went there on my second go at it i want to go right before the weather turns back to cold as shit so hopefully right after my responsibility with greenwich dance i will find work earn money and live like a nomad sounds like a plan right i certainly so and it gives me a fresh perspective of my drive towards happiness a plan that has always been the same from the get go i wont fail and i swear i cannot fail it is not humanly possible let me get what i want this time

Sunday, 7 June 2015

You're my you

You talk the talk
you pick up the pieces
you climb the ladder
you fall back down
you swallow your pride
you bear the shame
you wear the mark
you lose the game

Fly, you fools!

Let me just preface by opining that I expected something better. Disappointment is the wrong word; I was content, although the want for more lingers in the bayou. Were I to achieve something worth flaunting about now then I might as well build myself something worth writing about today. Something close to my heart; something that captures the essence of human spirit; the reason for living; the satisfaction of purpose. All that jazz.

All will come in time, I hope, and all will be told. To be fair, the acquaintanceship developed moments ago was satisfactory. There was one bio-mechanical entity who made me flutter like a canary, but that's perhaps because my tendency to be avian is clear for all to see. Stop showboating; there is no competition to be had. Shameless, and I should cower to the corner and bleed and cry. 

I'm getting old, I found. More than I have ever realised. It frightens me so. All those ominous accidents with strangers turned out to be partially true, and I remember it all one by one, as if it drowned me into a spaceless vortex where only their voices are real, repeating over and over again to make me suffer, zoning me completely into meaninglessness. I dare to differ, only because that remains the only option for me to choose.

Monday, 1 June 2015

Munia Volant

When I began to address her about the situation regarding the solicitation of her daughter's flesh, I suddenly realise that the matter at hand required swift action in my part to procure a method with which I could expressly deny any involvement or participation I may have myself partaken in the past. This was not such an easy task, however, as it began to rain fiery droplets of acid into our home before I could even get my tongue to roll an explanation or two to her.

She was of unsound mind that night, consumed by a belief or hysteria that her daughter's soul was been abducted by an insolent demon, and she told me directly, with a straight look on her face, that in her youth she did a sin so great she could no longer look at any other person straight in the eye and not admit this misgiving. She said, rather brusquely, that she had engaged in sexual liaisons with a familiar by the name of Yarwich, who terrorised her during her early teenage years with temptations of carnal nature. It was there that she developed some kind of fascination with the niche sexuality.

I asked her what she meant when she said those things, especially that last part, but she only replied that her daughter was the prize to be paid, and that, due to her ill-begotten conception, she must be put to the stake. Resistant as I was with this suggestion, I really had no final word with this decision. The other men beside me were rather compliant to the burdened woman in our midst, and they grew tired more and more about the sudden arrival of the ominous rain, so they all agreed with the idea that they approve of any suggestion that involves being rid of her and get the matter at hand over with as soon as possible.  As the waters leaked from one's roof to our room, a man grew fearful as he whispered to my ear that we have been lied to by this woman regarding her self and her daughter's predicament. This man pelted me with insults in my ear telling me how this night was such an awful proposition to accept and that we might have found ourselves in the company of a familiar itself, similar to that creature the woman spoke of earlier. It could be that this Yarwich creature sits in front of us now leading us to wrongful accusations. I could not deny this man's assessments reflected my own opinions in the matter, and slowly I myself found shaken down to my bootstraps, wishing I had never taken this woman's daughter to bed.

The raindrops from the rooftop hissed as it collides with the floor where we stood. Pop, pop, pop, it goes, each sound maximising the following ones, until the sky blurted out an orchestra of thunder and lightning. One of the men cried out as he noticed that the wooden walls of the house were emitting smoke, perhaps even catching fire, or worse under the spell of a higher being than us humans in here. I began to panic as well, and all that raced back and forth in my mind were prayers of hope and mercy to the gods, incantations that I learned from being sick and bedridden, and a strange sense of relief as I stood there and watched, and could not comprehend, even at the most frightening hour of my life.

Not long after that, the chandelier broke away. the sky about to swallow us all whole, and I think of the last time I saw my daughter's face and how happy she was at the concept of being enrolled into a dormitory of nurses. I could never have been more proud and happy for her. It was probably the most crowning achievement of my life, and now, I see it all taking me towards my doom. My child's name was Munia, and she needs not know. The winds will consume me now.

Search and destroy