Plush

I swept the dust off the table to reveal your face on the veneer and I coughed out a bubble of your heart bursting into thoughts of you so incandescent/

you lick my skin so sour and salty your tongue/

electrified/

sending messages to your brain encrypted with the mystery of your eyes so beautiful/

I falter in its depths so murky like the pond we once fished at/

waiting for the call of birds as the evening approaches in gloom/

we watched the sun fall into the endlessness of trees so ancient/

we held hands till the sweat on our palms glued our emotions together/

I whispered in your ear a song only you could understand and fathom all intensity/

on our lips pressed together/

our tongues danced and wavered in our mouths like the wind blowing into our hair/

I grab you by the shoulders and press you onto the grass so green/

our heartbeats thump in unison to the chorus of the romance that plays in my head/

your fingers dig deep into my flesh as though tearing me apart to become one with each other.

Vegabond.

My sweaty fingers trek her skin, senses tingled, it is no longer smooth, I feel goosebumps of lust static after static, the contours of her body are like dunes and vistas unchartered, all that is left now is my breath whispering into her ears, my teeth gnawing at her lobes, all but a thin layer of cotton separates my sweaty finger from her now bumpy skin.

Her legs are beautiful and as I caress them I feel her moans of ecstasy swirl out her lips, all she can do now is beg, I’m biting her neck, and the moans grow harder and louder than before, her ooh’s and ahh’s are one with the solitude of our convulsing bodies.

I rub my hips against her waist, in between my legs, swelling and sore, in between hers, a gilded endeavour leaking with lust.

I grab her hair, and I watch her clench her teeth in pain and pleasure, all that’s left for me to do right now is to let her beg.

PIMPS OF THE PERVERSE.

Something I posted on my class General Paper Portal:

Where be the faithful:

"More than 10,000 children in Europe smacked, tortured, and raped by priests who were supposed to protect them. Bishops and spokesmen denying or minimizing their role-appearing, for all the world, like old men who seem not to understand the seriousness of what they've done." Lisa Miller, NEWSWEEK, Save the Children.

O justice, justice, wherefore art thou justice? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my versification. For I am no longer a Catholic.

What the hell is going with these peevish perverse pungent perverted pseudo-pious pervicacious perennial perilous Para-psychotic priests parading a paradox in privacy, a phantom of the prevailing principle that preaches to people the prime Papal philosophy parroted posthumously and presently, this panoramic precipitated pesky petrifying predators who find pleasures in the phallus of a preteen, prophets not protecting or proclaiming, but penetrating and probing; philandering with preschoolers; the phrenology of these pedophiles is in perplex beyond physical and psychological perspectives; the pain and the pillage of the prestigiously plastered pygmy should be presiding in a piggery or a prison rather than a palace or a place of worship. Pit-falling the pleas of the plagued and placid is a placebo of placatory plague of the plebian politicians. Prolific polemics poison the population.
I personally persist that we plunge these pompous penis-paramount popery with praseodymium.

This shows that a religion does not need spiritual leaders, it needs believers, not parrots, but prophets. Our predecessors probably didn't want to pop a bunch of primordial peeves. It's predation, and the premature victims are tormented.
Mothers and fathers everywhere are frantic, choirboys will only open their mouths to moan, suck or sing.

Another thing that confuses me is that most of these filthy pastors are, biologically impotent.

So what's your perspective?

QI+QAT=double word and triple letter score.

You know, it really bothers me that I’m obligated to feel alright when you go meet a guy to drink late at night only because I’ve been somewhat alright with it in the past, but when some girl texts me, I’m cheating on you suddenly.

And darling, why do you have to take the things people tell you so frankly, they just say it because they just do. You tell me half the time that you don’t love me and you don’t care about me (be it in anger or jokingly) and you think I seem emotionless, only because I don’t react the way you want to.

I love you and I care for you and I hate to tell this straight to your face because we’ll end up quarrelling.

I’m only saying this because I want our relationship to work better for us both. I’m sorry probation and my parents hardly giving me cash these days gets in the way, but that doesn’t mean I don’t intend to get you what you want.

I know you joke when you tell me all the shit other guys can do for you that I can’t, it makes me think if you really see the things I do for you that others can’t. But I’ll just keep quiet and remain silent. I only do so cause I don’t like arguing with you. I hate arguing with you. We argue almost every fucking day, and we just go at it anywhere. Don’t like.

Ah well, when a nihilist becomes emotional, he becomes human :P

I love you Jane, let’s stop arguing, for a week at least :)

Save the planet.

Dearest diary, I would love to strongly voice my opinion about the Haitian situation right now.

My opinion will most definitely upset and insult a lot of people, so at least I can blame any attempt on my sorry life on something.

Millions of men, women and children are suffering in Haiti now because of an earthquake which destroyed lives and billions and billions of dollars of property, and organisations and artistes are appealing for help from people elsewhere on the planet to help because it is not only moral and ethical on a humane basis to help fellow humans, it is to protect and restore business.

The world is a corporation, its countries are its companies, their states are their divisions and its people are its workers.

And Haiti is one such company, because you see, there is no morality into helping another person, it subjects to personal beliefs and choice.

And a way I would like to choose, according to my personal beliefs, to offer my opinion in dealing with this:

Kill and slaughter the entire population like a corporation which chooses to terminate a defective, faulty company.

As far as I’m concerned, we’ve been killing each other off since the beginning of time for, according to a lot of people (mainly idiotic pacifists who never bother to analyse a situation), the “wrong” reasons.

You mean there’s actually a “right” reason to kill and go to war with another nation?

Sure, capital punishment is death for several crimes; kill a person for killing a person and praise a soldier for slaughtering people.

It’s is legal to be a maniacal serial killer only when your president cannot agree with another world leader, not because you have repressed hatred for humanity, or because your wife was cheating on your hardworking back.

So kill the entire nation and save yourself the time, money and trouble, besides, it’ll help Al Gore and the green rangers from complaining about so much bloody carbon emissions.

It’s all bullshit and it’s all business.

 

Ah well, I’ve moved out of my old neighbourhood into a new one, adapting, spreading like a virus; I am well, finding a sort of equilibrium with my natural and unnatural surroundings.

I seem to be ripping off Matrix there.

I really need to start studying and stop penning ridiculous lines for graphic novels I hope to publish like “I’m going to die, and I need to look pretty.” or, “All those sickening melancholic tales, of which, verses harangue ravenously in my head, like that eerie dripping of water from an unclosed tap in an echoic toilet.”.

GP, Chemistry, Physics, History, Literature, would have taken more if I actually knew what exactly I want to be, heh.

n.

“Don't make me over
Now that I'd do anything for you
Don't make me over
Now that you know how I adore you”

I really was planning something, but I fucked up, and I admit, I made you cry, I disappointed you

“Don't pick on the things I say, the things I do
Just love me with all my faults, a way that I love you
I'm begging you”

but you forgot, I was still there beside you wanting to know how to make you smile as I always do.

“Don't make me over
Now that I can't make it without you
Don't make me over
I wouldn't change one thing about you”

Like I said, I’ll make up for it, real soon, trust me ;)

Be prepared for something special soon, darling, I am going to give you a day that’ll outdo Valentine’s day, I love you.

Lolita.

So, it was my birthday yesterday, two days before having celebrated it at the beach with a barbeque, thanks to all those who came and of course a very special thank you to my darling, Jane for the most awesome gifts ever, which is apart from her constant outbursts of premenstrual moodswings, and her love and of course, her nonsense. Love you!

  

 

   

I really, honestly am god bloody tired, I’m studying for my A’s, so yeah, no time to think of anything to say.

Frenzy.

Despite my constant proclamation of perspective realism, I do accept the fact that there is a threshold of reality we all perceive; the laptop in front of me, the ceiling above, the walls, the trees, the rocks, the tables, chairs, vases, cigarettes, these are commonly consistent with our threshold of reality, its quantum value, its physical existence, the ability to reciprocate with it with our five main senses.

But people have to understand, reality is inconsistent.

The quality of something being real depends on our perspective of life; the way we accept and reject items, events, metaphysical forces, ghosts, demons, gods.

But is it only its physical quality that we judge its realism?

We accept certain events as real (that someone murdered another, an event that can only be proven via forensics, investigation, interrogation), we also accept numbers as real, but we don’t see a natural physical numeric in existence, but we still accept it as real.

Thus reality can be the value of realism within an event,the acceptance of a statement (how much of the spiritual do you believe, do you believe in ghosts?) a scientific algorithm, and the physical appearance of an item, making it then a unit of measurement, which we have to confirm the consistency of its realism.

Reality does not comprehend to existence.

The existence of the material:

Ok, so things, objects, things that subject to matter, has a physical and chemical quality; the material.

So what subjects the material to existence…?

Okay, say you put a piece of paper in front of me.

You ask me: What is this?

Me: A piece of paper.

You: is this real?

Me: yes.

You: does it exist?

Me: no.

You: why?

I take it, tear it in half, align the two pieces, tear in half again, repeat, then place it in front of you and ask, “Now what do we have?”

You: (assuming you understand) A stack of paper.

Me: exactly, so what happened to the piece of paper?

You: you tore it into pieces.

Me: exactly, so does that piece of paper exists?

You: no…?

Me: right, cause even if I arrange these pieces to resemble its former form, it will not be a piece of paper, I can do this many times, I can even split it to a microscopic level, but it will never become a piece of paper, if you track it back to its organic form, you just get a bunch of atoms.

This concludes that the whole differs from the sum of its parts, and that the only thing that exists is its atomic structure, hey, it’ll be even different if we could go much smaller.

Thus I’ve explained that even something physical cannot exist, and I’m trying to correct the psychological term, ‘The Whole is Greater than the Sum of its Parts’, which of course could be incorrect due to its various methods of approach.

You get pissed off and place another piece of paper in front of me.

Fractal.

The binary conduct of the human perception lies within the five senses; the ability to process our surroundings with five biological tools is a wonder in itself. But as humans, we are never impressed, nor satisfied.

We try to experiment and seek paranormal and para-dimensional realms which we perceive to exist, be it anthropologically, religiously, or just out of our own plain belief.

So, the five senses, the states of conscience and the individual acceptance of existence play a role in the perception of our reality.

Could it be that the human psyche is more than what we have so far learnt from it, could it be that reality is more than what it is, could this entire experience be a sixth sense, I don’t know.

But perhaps the universe is a set of systems under one intertwined, inter-dimensional, hyper-complex system, and that our normal psyche does not reciprocate.

The reality of things is then altered.

Thus we experiment, try all sorts of things, believe in all sorts of things to compensate for what we feel is empty, the strive for understanding, for some sort of perfection.

Perhaps it is this unrest of the unknowing of our ethics, our culture, our origins, our religions, our bylaws that fail us as a systematic species, and our myriad conception of what is good and what is evil, in order to set us apart from other individuals that we fail to comply with our existence.

But where is the natural, evident structure or system of such values, the origin to all these pathetic excuses, there is none; there is no natural structure of hierarchy and order and value.

So…

A method to alternate perception, a personal favourite of mine: Sensory Deprivation.

A tank and a legal dosage of any hallucinogenic (commonly amphetamines), the user will experience something beyond the conscience (be it they accept it as real or just some sort of intrinsic dwelling).

This heightening of the cognitive process allows the user to explore parts of the brain hardly used and will ‘travel’ the mind with a deeper understanding and conception.

Things appear more or less than they are, unquantifiable by physical standards, the user might develop an existential view of all existence, to a point of nihilism (in my case) that everything is physically ordained and that the quantum value of something is just a physical measurement and that it does not equate to its intrinsic value (which is then equated to nothing as there is then no such thing).

Life and existence on a whole becomes a vicissitude of just pure matrixes. There is then, no mundane.

This understanding of the self allows negation of the self, to accept the self as part of the the quantum equation, thus negating all value.

This could either be a withdrawal to the animalistic quality of the primordial human, or, a whole new super philosophy like that of Nietzsche’s Zarathustra, the Ubermensch.

A posthumous understanding, or just the lack of interest.

But the understanding of the self could also be a super acceptance of the self, and the process can be varied.

But be it an esoteric combustion of the metaphysical dwelling, or some sort of inter-dimensional perplex, like ink blotting onto one page to the one below it; spilling from one realm onto another, or even a wildean illusion that projected itself from its dormant dwelling as an entity within the cortex, this phenomena, this hallucination if you prefer to call it, can only be experienced upon the consumption of mind alternating substances and isolating all nervous activity to just the thought.

It then becomes a key to unlocking a place in our cognition that we cannot experience without first eliminating all absolutist thinking.

Thus, perception is the phenomena.