There's a gap between the trains
There's a way to the woods
Where they're sorry for a lot
Because the end is beautiful
Son you make me so proud
When I'm high as the clouds
You make me so proud
But I wish I could come down
And I'm sorry for your birth
The aliens rule the earth
The sky is dark and green
And beautiful
To escape my mind
To escape my mind
To escape mankind
To escape my mind
Please pardon all this day
As we feel our souls decay
Pardon all this day
It hurts forever to try
There should have been a place
The father taught his ways
And he loved always
Not in his sleep
To escape my mind
To escape my mind
To escape mankind
To escape my mind
I'll escape my mind
I'll escape my mind
You'll escape mankind
I'll escape my mind
Showing posts with label abstract. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abstract. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
To Die Alone
It had been probably 6 months since he began this trek and maybe 2 years since the sky had lowered and daytime had left. Tonight (what used to be 'day' was always night) was especially dark and bitter. He walked along what could have been the grassiest of fields but was now nothing but scorched earth, black and ruined and indistinguishable from any other place he had been. He wore his mask which was now as ragged as his old, smelly rags that hung off his malnourished body. His once trimmed hair was long and unruly and he he had grown a beard which seemed to all but enforce the state that all affairs had fallen into, but in his bright green eyes there remained what was either hope or madness.
Day 673 or 520: no sleep again last night. strong winds and no chance of shelter means that continuing walking was inevitable. food has been completely gone for 3 weeks, had this been before the sky fell i believe i would be dead, but after so long in these conditions i believe my body and mind are much harder and i am only beginning to feel the strain. whiskey is about to run out, finished maybe my whole final flask today and am quite drunk. if those from where i came saw they would be 'disappointed,' but i continue as if i were sober. why not be drunk in such awful times, such an awful place.
losing hope in search for hospital 12. my earliest memory after the sky falling is the survivors talking of 12, how 12 was salviation, how one day there would be a complete march to 12. but they began to bear their unbearable surroundings and it became clear no march would ever be made and they would die in the rut that they had created. so i marched alone for 12. my compass told me i headed north which means i was actually travelling south. geomorphological acceleration, or reversal, i try to say it allowed but my words are just slurred and my voice unfamiliar as it is the first time i've spoke in weeks.
Day 674 or 521: joy of joys! easier conditions and a depot of well preserved food today. i was not myself but still walking when i stumbled over a black box. it was well hidden and i struggled to see it even in front of my face. i opened the box and it was a bounty of canned goods. i was so tired eating that i cannot even fathom what it could have been, i just ate and ate without even considering the dangers of re-feeding myself so suddenly. after an unknown period of time the food was gone, so i continued to walk for a distance till i felt comfortably tired and collapsed into a much needed sound sleep.
Day 675 or 522: another mind blowing day, as if my mind wasn't blew enough already! after one of my longest walks in weeks i saw a dent on the horizon, a little black mark piercing the sky which was instead of black the deepest shade of blue. my hopes i held out for this were soon confirmed when i saw an old, completely ruined road sign in which all that could be made out was "12." i was there! my anticipation was only overcame with fatigue, after writing this i will surely fall asleep and tomorrow make for the salvation which has been keeping me running on empty for so long. my ruined body will finally rest after achieving what my stubborn mind had insisted upon for so long.
The next day he approached the hospital. The building was dilapidated but in much better shape than most other things since the sky fell. All was quiet for him as he approached the outside to discover the door was locked. He contemplated waiting here, but the wind which was gathering force encouraged him to shoulder the door in and enter, it was a wonder he had any power in his body left to do this. The fabled hospital was apparently empty, chairs, beds and gurneys sprawled across the old halls. Up and up he thought, what awaits him must be on the top floor. He climbed the staircase 7 times, or 8 times, he couldn't keep track of anything anymore except the desire he had to reach the top. The top floor had only one long corridor that led to a room at the end, the door slightly ajar. Who awaited him here? He walked down, all of a sudden aware of his skinny arms with sunken skin that was covered in dirt moving at his sides. He watched his hands open the door back even further. He entered the room. He observed.
There was only two chairs in this large room. One was a large recliner in which sat a dead, bearded man. His eyes were wide open, gigantic and red. Even though he was clearly dead for some time, his hands seemed to grip onto the arm rests of the chair, and his horrible stare was directed at the other seat in the room, direclty opposite him and only a few feet away. This would have been such a horrifying thing to observe if the disappointment of the scene hadn't drove the observer completely insane. He walked over and took the seat opposite the bearded man, sat back and looked into his eyes. Sometime later he died of fatigue or heartbreak.
And what a shame, no one will remember his name.
Day 673 or 520: no sleep again last night. strong winds and no chance of shelter means that continuing walking was inevitable. food has been completely gone for 3 weeks, had this been before the sky fell i believe i would be dead, but after so long in these conditions i believe my body and mind are much harder and i am only beginning to feel the strain. whiskey is about to run out, finished maybe my whole final flask today and am quite drunk. if those from where i came saw they would be 'disappointed,' but i continue as if i were sober. why not be drunk in such awful times, such an awful place.
losing hope in search for hospital 12. my earliest memory after the sky falling is the survivors talking of 12, how 12 was salviation, how one day there would be a complete march to 12. but they began to bear their unbearable surroundings and it became clear no march would ever be made and they would die in the rut that they had created. so i marched alone for 12. my compass told me i headed north which means i was actually travelling south. geomorphological acceleration, or reversal, i try to say it allowed but my words are just slurred and my voice unfamiliar as it is the first time i've spoke in weeks.
Day 674 or 521: joy of joys! easier conditions and a depot of well preserved food today. i was not myself but still walking when i stumbled over a black box. it was well hidden and i struggled to see it even in front of my face. i opened the box and it was a bounty of canned goods. i was so tired eating that i cannot even fathom what it could have been, i just ate and ate without even considering the dangers of re-feeding myself so suddenly. after an unknown period of time the food was gone, so i continued to walk for a distance till i felt comfortably tired and collapsed into a much needed sound sleep.
Day 675 or 522: another mind blowing day, as if my mind wasn't blew enough already! after one of my longest walks in weeks i saw a dent on the horizon, a little black mark piercing the sky which was instead of black the deepest shade of blue. my hopes i held out for this were soon confirmed when i saw an old, completely ruined road sign in which all that could be made out was "12." i was there! my anticipation was only overcame with fatigue, after writing this i will surely fall asleep and tomorrow make for the salvation which has been keeping me running on empty for so long. my ruined body will finally rest after achieving what my stubborn mind had insisted upon for so long.
The next day he approached the hospital. The building was dilapidated but in much better shape than most other things since the sky fell. All was quiet for him as he approached the outside to discover the door was locked. He contemplated waiting here, but the wind which was gathering force encouraged him to shoulder the door in and enter, it was a wonder he had any power in his body left to do this. The fabled hospital was apparently empty, chairs, beds and gurneys sprawled across the old halls. Up and up he thought, what awaits him must be on the top floor. He climbed the staircase 7 times, or 8 times, he couldn't keep track of anything anymore except the desire he had to reach the top. The top floor had only one long corridor that led to a room at the end, the door slightly ajar. Who awaited him here? He walked down, all of a sudden aware of his skinny arms with sunken skin that was covered in dirt moving at his sides. He watched his hands open the door back even further. He entered the room. He observed.
There was only two chairs in this large room. One was a large recliner in which sat a dead, bearded man. His eyes were wide open, gigantic and red. Even though he was clearly dead for some time, his hands seemed to grip onto the arm rests of the chair, and his horrible stare was directed at the other seat in the room, direclty opposite him and only a few feet away. This would have been such a horrifying thing to observe if the disappointment of the scene hadn't drove the observer completely insane. He walked over and took the seat opposite the bearded man, sat back and looked into his eyes. Sometime later he died of fatigue or heartbreak.
And what a shame, no one will remember his name.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Meeting in the Abattoir
- 1. Why do people always say their "battling" cancer. Some battle. If something that powerful took over my body, something I knew would have the last laugh no matter what, I'd welcome it like I would an old friend and we could share that laugh together.
- 2, A penny for most people's thoughts seems a little expensive.
- 3/ It would be unreasonable to try and say what the greatest ever human achievement is but there's nothing more reasonable than saying its already happened.
- 4% A hero has to be naive above everything else and thats why there are none left.
- 5* Watch this, isn't it great? You're not watching, just watch this one part, its so good, if you just see this part you'll understand. Are you watching?
- 6& The hardest person to spend time with is myself.
- 6&! How can we really listen with these ears? They condense all the highs and the lows of real sound so what we hear in our heads is just filtered garbage. The only way to really feel is to cut them off!
- ₤7 People aren't allowed to marry themselves because the divorce rate would be so high.
- {9} The undeniable truth that none of us will ever see the best parts of this world makes my soul fit to burst.
- ¿¿¿ I wanted to write something positive to end on but I wouldn't be able to look in the mirror and there's nothing more important.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Name of the Game
i wrote this short story very late at night last week, it was influenced by a dream i had whilst staying in my close friend's house. it took around an hour to write and is just over 1,000 words. been thinking of making it into a book this summer if i'm not working/drinking too much, but for now it just reads as a short version of a longer story
wake up
wash ears
wash face
break fast
leave house
walk north
board ship
sail...
Cross 37° S
sudden flash
exit world
enter world
purple sky
purple sea
sail...
dock...
new people
similar people
shun you
shun crew
farmers...
builders...
so intelligent
completely stupid
introduce cruelty
beat children
rape women
the death
the poverty
grow fat
kill children
the pigs
fight
fight
rape
fight...
eat captain
get beaten
get stabbed
die painfully
this is the story of a ship with a mere crew of 10 people (1 captain and 9 seamen) which left this world as it crossed the 37th degree of latitude. it entered another world in a flash of bright white light. it was strikingly similar to the one that we know, but for the vibrant purple sky and sea and the almost constant twilight. the ship soon found port to dock in, a small, isolated island containing no more than 300 inhabitants, all of whom spoke a strange dialect of english.
the islanders were all traditional farmers and builders, and of either white or a slightly tanned complexion with standard physical features. the island was not very developed, although had small amounts of electricity from a windmill. the farmers kept pigs. there was no weapons. the buildings had very unique square architecture, and would have looked futuristic if they had not been crudely built from stone. there was 2 public houses.
the crew of the ship were completely ignored by the islanders. after struggling to sustain themselves, they eventually started to use violence to commandeer food, clothes, and bathing facilities. it became apparent that the islanders had no concept of cruelty or violence as they simply did not defend themselves. the captain soon asserted himself to ruler of the island. his men lived like kings, being well fed and enjoying the spoils of the native women.
the mens greed being instantly fulfilled meant they soon became bored of 'just' domination. they began to beat children and kill and eat men for sport, or else feed them to the pigs. they grew fatter and fatter. the islanders became so downtrodden that they began to die of depression and heartbreak. the crew were not worried by this and their 'sport' became more and more horrific. they buried children in the ground until only their head was showing, masturbated onto it, and then kicked at it until it separated from the body.
the population quickly depleted to almost zero. the last islander was a resilient woman named cunha. sudden realisation that they would not survive without those who they had killed off, the crew began to turn on each other. they first tortured, killed and ate their captain before killing each other in a bloodbath which saw all the buildings destroyed. although a member of the crew had raped her several times during this final battle royale, cunha remained alive. only she and the fat pigs remained of what once was on this peaceful island.
cunha wandered the island for weeks, unable to die quickly but instead suffering intense mental and physical pain and a long drawn out death. the pigs also eventually died of starvation, having feasted on the rotting bodies for quite some time.
the crew had been on the island for 5 weeks
wake up
wash ears
wash face
break fast
leave house
walk north
board ship
sail...
Cross 37° S
sudden flash
exit world
enter world
purple sky
purple sea
sail...
dock...
new people
similar people
shun you
shun crew
farmers...
builders...
so intelligent
completely stupid
introduce cruelty
beat children
rape women
the death
the poverty
grow fat
kill children
the pigs
fight
fight
rape
fight...
eat captain
get beaten
get stabbed
die painfully
this is the story of a ship with a mere crew of 10 people (1 captain and 9 seamen) which left this world as it crossed the 37th degree of latitude. it entered another world in a flash of bright white light. it was strikingly similar to the one that we know, but for the vibrant purple sky and sea and the almost constant twilight. the ship soon found port to dock in, a small, isolated island containing no more than 300 inhabitants, all of whom spoke a strange dialect of english.
the islanders were all traditional farmers and builders, and of either white or a slightly tanned complexion with standard physical features. the island was not very developed, although had small amounts of electricity from a windmill. the farmers kept pigs. there was no weapons. the buildings had very unique square architecture, and would have looked futuristic if they had not been crudely built from stone. there was 2 public houses.
the crew of the ship were completely ignored by the islanders. after struggling to sustain themselves, they eventually started to use violence to commandeer food, clothes, and bathing facilities. it became apparent that the islanders had no concept of cruelty or violence as they simply did not defend themselves. the captain soon asserted himself to ruler of the island. his men lived like kings, being well fed and enjoying the spoils of the native women.
the mens greed being instantly fulfilled meant they soon became bored of 'just' domination. they began to beat children and kill and eat men for sport, or else feed them to the pigs. they grew fatter and fatter. the islanders became so downtrodden that they began to die of depression and heartbreak. the crew were not worried by this and their 'sport' became more and more horrific. they buried children in the ground until only their head was showing, masturbated onto it, and then kicked at it until it separated from the body.
the population quickly depleted to almost zero. the last islander was a resilient woman named cunha. sudden realisation that they would not survive without those who they had killed off, the crew began to turn on each other. they first tortured, killed and ate their captain before killing each other in a bloodbath which saw all the buildings destroyed. although a member of the crew had raped her several times during this final battle royale, cunha remained alive. only she and the fat pigs remained of what once was on this peaceful island.
cunha wandered the island for weeks, unable to die quickly but instead suffering intense mental and physical pain and a long drawn out death. the pigs also eventually died of starvation, having feasted on the rotting bodies for quite some time.
the crew had been on the island for 5 weeks
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