Pen-Powered Insanity

Elevate form over function to get at less easily articulable truths.

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Orbie » Tue Dec 23, 2014 3:37 am

And after gone by Yourself, You can nurse Yourself back, toward the simply jargon , that t's only another brick innthe wall. The cut away, shcemetized, pigenholed memory, placed symbolically even by one simple designation, YES EVEN THA'S RETREAVABLE ,yes it has unbiased significance, and the relative meaninglessness of it, nay, may not reflect on an defensive effort, an aplology. Any thought, even one
may mean countless things, as attached to another,
and another, whereby a neat trick: to widen the scope of it, to enrich it, on principle a resistance to entropic generalizations, into redundancies, whether
it be puposeful modern verse, of entrance into a labyrinth, a maze, of lostness, and the cure betwixt within, or, without.
[size=50][/size]Allone's Obe issance

In answer to your prayer
sincere, the centre of
your circle here,
i stand ; and , without
taking thought,-
i know nothing. But i can

Full well your need-as
you be men
This: Re-Creation. With a
Then, your obedient

servant now.
One gift is all i find in me,
And that is faithful
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Tue Dec 23, 2014 4:20 am

Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Sat Jan 03, 2015 8:26 pm

A Satire Against Reason and Mankind

By John Wilmot

Were I (who to my cost already am
One of those strange, prodigious creatures, man)
A spirit free to choose, for my own share,
What case of flesh and blood I pleased to wear,
I'd be a dog, a monkey, or a bear,
Or anything but that vain animal
Who is so proud of being rational.

The senses are too gross, and he'll contrive
A sixth, to contradict the other five,
And before certain instinct, will prefer
Reason, which fifty times for one does err;
Reason, an ignis fatuus in the mind,
Which, leaving light of nature, sense, behind,
Pathless and dangerous wandering ways it takes
Through error's fenny bogs and thorny brakes;
Whilst the misguided follower climbs with pain
Mountains of whimseys, heaped in his own brain;
Stumbling from thought to thought, falls headlong down
Into doubt's boundless sea, where, like to drown,
Books bear him up a while, and make him try
To swim with bladders of philosophy;
In hopes still to o'ertake th' escaping light,-
The vapor dances in his dazzling sight
Till, spent, it leaves him to eternal night.
Then old age and experience, hand in hand,
Lead him to death, and make him understand,
After a search so painful and so long,
That all his life he has been in the wrong.
Huddled in dirt the reasoning engine lies,
Who was so proud, so witty, and so wise.

Pride drew him in, as cheats their bubbles catch,
And made him venture to be made a wretch.
His wisdom did his happiness destroy,
Aiming to know that world he should enjoy.
And wit was his vain, frivolous pretence
Of pleasing others at his own expense,
For wits are treated just like common whores:
First they're enjoyed, and then kicked out of doors.
The pleasure past, a threatening doubt remains
That frights th' enjoyer with succeeding pains.
Women and men of wit are dangerous tools,
And ever fatal to admiring fools:
Pleasure allures, and when the fops escape,
'Tis not that they're belov'd, but fortunate,
And therefore what they fear at heart, they hate.

But now, methinks, some formal band and beard
Takes me to task. Come on, sir; I'm prepared.

'Then, by your favour, anything that's writ
Against this gibing, jingling knack called wit
Likes me abundantly; but you take care
Upon this point, not to be too severe.
Perhaps my muse were fitter for this part,
For I profess I can be very smart
On wit, which I abhor with all my heart.
I long to lash it in some sharp essay,
But your grand indiscretion bids me stay
And turns my tide of ink another way.

"What rage ferments in your degenerate mind
To make you rail at reason and mankind?
Blest, glorious man! to whom alone kind heaven
An everlasting soul has freely given,
Whom his great Maker took such care to make
That from himself he did the image take
And this fair frame in shining reason dressed
To dignify his nature above beast;
Reason, by whose aspiring influence
We take a flight beyond material sense,
Dive into mysteries, then soaring pierce
The flaming limits of the universe,
Search heaven and hell, find out what's acted there,
And give the world true grounds of hope and fear."

Hold, mighty man, I cry, all this we know
From the pathetic pen of Ingelo,
From Patrick's Pilgrim, Sibbes's soliloquies,
And 'tis this very reason I despise:
This supernatural gift, that makes a mite
Think he's the image of the infinite,
Comparing his short life, void of all rest,
To the eternal and the ever blest;
This busy, puzzling stirrer-up of doubt
That frames deep mysteries, then finds them out,
Filling with frantic crowds of thinking fools
Those reverend bedlams, colleges and schools;
Borne on whose wings, each heavy sot can pierce
The limits of the boundless universe;
So charming ointments make an old witch fly
And bear a crippled carcass through the sky.
'Tis this exalted power, whose business lies
In nonsense and impossibilities,
This made a whimsical Philosopher
Before the spacious world, his tub prefer,
And we have modern cloistered coxcombs who
Retire to think, 'cause they have nought to do.

But thoughts are given for action's government;
Where action ceases, thought's impertinent.
Our sphere of action is life's happiness,
And he who thinks beyond, thinks like an ass.
Thus, whilst against false reasoning I inveigh,
I own right reason, which I would obey:
That reason which distinguishes by sense
And gives us rules of good and ill from thence,
That bounds desires with a reforming will
To keep them more in vigour, not to kill.
Your reason hinders, mine helps to enjoy,
Renewing appetites yours would destroy.
My reason is my friend, yours is a cheat;
Hunger calls out, my reason bids me eat;
Perversely, yours your appetite does mock:
This asks for food, that answers, "What's o'clock?"
This plain distinction, sir, your doubt secures:
'Tis not true reason I despise, but yours.

Thus I think reason righted, but for man,
I'll ne'er recant; defend him if you can.
For all his pride and his-philosophy,
'Tis evident beasts are, in their degree,
As wise at least, and better far than he.
Those creatures are the wisest who attain,
By surest means, the ends at which they aim.
If therefore Jowler finds and kills his hares
Better than Meres supplies committee chairs,
Though one's a statesman, th' other but a hound,
Jowler, in justice, would be wiser found.

You see how far man's wisdom here extends;
Look next if human nature makes amends:
Whose principles most generous are, and just,
And to whose morals you would sooner trust.
Be judge yourself, I'll bring it to the test:
Which is the basest creature, man or beast?
Birds feed on birds, beasts on each other prey,
But savage man alone does man betray.
Pressed by necessity, they kill for food;
Man undoes man to do himself no good.
With teeth and claws by nature armed, they hunt
Nature's allowance, to supply their want
But man, with smiles, embraces, friendship, praise,
Inhumanly his fellow's life betrays;
With voluntary pains works his distress,
Not through necessity, but wantonness.

For hunger or for love they fight and tear,
Whilst wretched man is still in arms for fear.
For fear he arms, and is of arms afraid,
By fear to fear successively betrayed;
Base fear, the source whence his best passions came:
His boasted honour, and his dear-bought fame;
That lust of power, to which he's such a slave,
And for the which alone he dares be brave;
To which his various projects are designed;
Which makes him generous, affable, and kind;
For which he takes such pains to be thought wise,
And screws his actions in a forced disguise,
Leading a tedious life in misery
Under laborious, mean hypocrisy.
Look to the bottom of his vast design,
Wherein man's wisdom, power, and glory join:
The good he acts, the ill he does endure,
'Tis all from fear, to make himself secure.
Merely for safety, after fame we thirst,
For all men would be cowards if they durst.

And honesty's against all common sense:
Men must be knaves, 'tis in their own defense.
Mankind's dishonest; if you think it fair
Amongst known cheats to play upon the square,
You'll be undone.
Nor can weak truth your reputation save:
The knaves will all agree to call you knave.
Wronged shall he live, insulted o'er, oppressed,
Who dares be less a villain than the rest.
Thus, sir, you see what human nature craves:
Most men are cowards, all men should be knaves.
The difference lies, as far as I can see,
Not in the thing itself, but the degree,
And all the subject matter of debate
Is only: Who's a knave of the first rate?

All this with indignation have I hurled
At the pretending part of the proud world,
Who, swollen with selfish vanity, devise
False freedoms, holy cheats, and formal lies
Over their fellow slaves to tyrannize.

But if in Court so just a man there be
(In Court a just man, yet unknown to me)
Who does his needful flattery direct,
Not to oppress and ruin, but protect
(Since flattery, which way soever laid,
Is still a tax on that unhappy trade);
If so upright a statesman you can find,
Whose passions bend to his unbiased mind,
Who does his arts and policies apply
To raise his country, not his family,
Nor, while his pride owned avarice withstands,
Receives close bribes through friends' corrupted hands

Is there a churchman who on God relies;
Whose life, his faith and doctrine justifies?
Not one blown up with vain prelatic pride,
Who, for reproof of sins, does man deride;
Whose envious heart makes preaching a pretence,
With his obstreperous, saucy eloquence,
To chide at kings, and rail at men of sense;
None of that sensual tribe whose talents lie
In avarice, pride, sloth, and gluttony;
Who hunt good livings, but abhor good lives;
Whose lust exalted to that height arrives
They act adultery with their own wives,
And ere a score of years completed be,
Can from the lofty pulpit proudly see
Half a large parish their own progeny;
Nor doting bishop who would be adored
For domineering at the council board,
A greater fop in business at fourscore,
Fonder of serious toys, affected more,
Than the gay, glittering fool at twenty proves
With all his noise, his tawdry clothes, and loves;

But a meek, humble man of honest sense,
Who, preaching peace, does practice continence;
Whose pious life's a proof he does believe
Mysterious truths, which no man can conceive.
If upon earth there dwell such God-like men,
I'll here recant my paradox to them,
Adore those shrines of virtue, homage pay,
And, with the rabble world, their laws obey.

If such there are, yet grant me this at least:
Man differs more from man, than man from beast.
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Sun Jan 04, 2015 12:33 am

If the world of men was in a healthy state, there would be no liars as no one would see fit to lie out of fear of consequences contrived, being fully aware of the consequences given by life. Not pressed by a sick mind or soul into acts which cause lies to spawn from our tongues, we might actually see a change in the world around us all. That man is prone to lying would be a lie itself, merely predisposed to lie when extreme consequences unfold; fear of the effect of degradation in the eyes of others. What killer would there be if a person were raised with their mind to be healthy and found joy in the company of all others around them? What thief would derive pleasure instead of self-loathing from the act of stealing if all people were of healthy minds and shared and shared alike? No adulterer would dare cheat or whore themselves for affection, no one would be lustbent, appreciating also the give and take of love with lust; neither would they see fit to harm another in such a manner as people are harmed in this day and age via the dating scene and competition for affections, sensual or sexual attractions.

People would not glut or drink to excess or get high merely to pass the time or ease the boredom or attempt to escape from reality itself instead choosing to partake in moderation as prescribed by so many wise men and women who have lived life before us who a good many of us perceive to be masochists that force themselves to be something other than natural as they ascend beyond the foibles that so many others fall to.

People say that it is impossible for the world to exist in a healthy state as the greed in men would stop it every time and yet what greed could or would there be in a world where everything were free and love was open while we operated under the pretense that perhaps moderation of certain things is necessary because it actually is necessary to suitably enjoy things properly. People say that the world will never change that it is what it is and we should just accept it and do whatever we want. If I were such a fool as to believe such a thing then surely all hope would seem lost to me and I might become the craven fiend I know that I could be for there would be no true reason to try at all except for some vain folly such as my own personal masochism as others issue pain upon my person in one form or another.

I think it is folly to think that the world won't heal, that these wounds so deep will never scab over and will continue to fester. I think it's foolish to think that the natural progression from past ages to the present can be without healing. People so caught up in negativity, so sick on the inside while viewing themselves to be healthy; embracing faulty modes of thinking which leads to further faulty modes of thinking, further degradation of the human spirit and what we could be, all for self-fulfilling prophecy started long ago. Through measured approach we might find that we could have our cake and eat it, too; without panic or fear or the over-compensation of those things; ego and arrogance; we could have more than enough cake for everyone to share.

And the simple fact of it all is that we don't have to make it happen, we just have to live our lives as we choose to live them and make a base effort to overcome, together. It will happen on its own as the world moved to unhealthiness on its own, healthiness is just natural adaptation and evolutionary gain delivered so long after the root of it all came into being. A healthy mind has no fear of lies or lying, accepting the full dichotomy of who they are and recognizing the fact that we can not be on top of stopping certain things 100% of the time. People would just like to give up killing or stealing or excess licentiousness just cold turkey or believe that that is what is being asked of them by reasonable and wise people and yet that is far from the truth of it, for the greatest rehabilitation centers in the world recognize the need for those addictions based in our instincts; addictions we will never truly be free from since one person departing from such completely would cause the influx of it in others.

There are right and wrong times in our lives to make use of everything and we pretend that certain things must never be done and such punishments should be delivered to those who perform it instead of actually dealing with a problem. People assume we would devolve back into ways of living we've already lived and yet the full weight of the matter has yet to press itself upon their shoulders or minds to make them aware that such would be an impossibility as people have been so indoctrinated into the current system that to give up forward progression would not be tolerated at all. We would go back to medieval ages in our consciousnesses? Not hardly. Not with everything we have and everything we've seen and experienced and want and feel we need. There is more determination to keep pushing forward than to go back to conscious states of mind that are far unhealthier than what we seek to embrace. That determination wins wars and causes people to fight and kill to protect it, which shows a proper placement of inferior drives and desires; an outlet. Without judgment and fear of judgment, people would not see fit to hide their desires; we would not see fit to repress the thought of killing someone we're mad at and would know that it is okay to think and say such things so long as we don't act upon it, yet juvenility still strangles maturity and so many people who should be mature adults respond like children and act like children refusing to help out and to actually make their community or surroundings more enjoyable not just to themselves but to all people.

It is simple immaturity and a desire not to give up stealing or something similar that hurts others just because you gain something from it you wouldn't have had otherwise. The fact is that this immaturity exists solely because those in power refuse to give up their resources or share them openly and fairly while they last; seeking to make a fount of resources that will never run out and yet the running out of resources accidentally instead of purposefully and spitefully teaches people moderation and that nothing can last forever. Even if you were to stockpile all resources, something could wipe them out and yet people still think they can do so; that they can have a nest egg to fall back on; an escape from their way of life should they ever need one when no escape should be necessary if they are living their lives appropriately along all others around them.

We are suffering from so many avenues of unhealthy thought, spawned by unhealthy living conditions, unhealthy modes of living, unhealthy modes of thinking caused by unhealthy, incomplete teachings where 'freedom of speech' is used as an excuse to spread hate instead of solve actual problems.

Would more people try if they were aware of how many were actually trying, if they were able to witness it actually happening with their own eyes and experience it in their own lives? I find that such things are a luxury in this world with it being the way it is. You won't always get a reward for doing the right thing and realistically, you shouldn't just expect such things as rewards and thanks for doing good things, you should just do them for the sake of doing them, knowing the long-term results to be worth it. If more people were to be honest when they stole or killed someone, we could then work on ascertaining other things and actually bringing forth modes of communication that may have never been examined before; that may always have existed in private between good friends. If people didn't have to fear judgment and punishment for their deeds,; not more than what life gives us in terms of guilt, etc.; it could possibly be that we could then move past those actions into fully explaining to people why such is wrong, or they might show us that such is right in a given situation.

The fact is that maybe killing people is a part of life; maybe stealing from certain individuals is a part of who we are and yet there is always a reason for it that we can't always see and it comes back to being unhealthy. How could these things still exist in a healthy environment except for killing only what we needed to eat and not having to steal much at all since resources would be shared and shared alike while they lasted and we would work together when resources were low to go do the work needed to get more; we would actually live and die together as equals instead of divided and living such unhealthy lives in veins of negative thought or faulty living as people claim they don't care and try to be stronger than they need to be to compensate for a Hellish reality.

We do so much to make this world healthier while so many people seek to undermine just to stay in the unhealthy frames of mind they exist in and yet the people making the world healthier are succeeding far beyond what the people seeking to undermine realize; more than many people realize and another fact is that people ARE realizing it and it will be the cause of war; a war which will be lost and then won or won and then lost depending on how you view it. Another fact of the matter is that most of the people who would fight against making the world healthier would be completely lost without the hard work of those who try; would be lost without their dedication and guidance and yet stubbornly refuse to give up or admit that they could be wrong. And the sad part is that even those who work to make the world healthier can't always admit when they're wrong, so what should we really be working on for a while save making the world of the mind a healthier place for all? How can we do anything at all in reality of concrete value without first securing the first foothold within our selves? We can't.

So many things we don't want come in the process of reaching for what we need and desire so strongly, though, making people reticent and yet those things will be far worse the longer people are reticent, like leaving a dirty house because you don't want to clean it. After so long, it becomes Hell to clean because you left it for so long when you never really had to clean it every day, either; just enough to not let it get to such extremes of unhealthy filthiness. And that's what a majority of reasonable thinkers have to be asking for, if anything; if they consider it at all; just enough cleaning to keep it all from being such a horrible world for so many. We don't have to do it all at once and we don't have to do it every day so long as we keep up on it throughout our lives and keep somewhat ahead of it.

And then, when you feel like cutting loose and enjoying your self more, you find that you are in more control of yourself, more precise, more everything and it gives you a finer appreciation for doing things and for living life. You wouldn't be as likely to abuse things and you would have more reason to practice moderation and self control, which gives a healthier mind than to practice complete abstinence and trying to control others.
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Mon Jan 05, 2015 10:14 am

Wrote this for a poetry contest on

Freeflow Reality

Before I begin, I just want to state how thankful I am to be alive
Even through pain, suffering, torment and torture and all the like
To see each day unfold and then pass again into the next is pleasurable
And to wonder what happens next is something people should view to be desirable
To wit, it is hard to find philosophical thoughts that bend beyond the established norm
and even rarer to find a contest pertaining to such in poetic form
And yet here we are, playing the game of 'find each other in the dark
For what reason, to what extent at the end of our incessant questions?
To which the ultimate answer must be, 'for love of a lark'
Which should be our ultimate mission
When reality bends upon itself and crushes our minds with insanity
we find such pleasures hidden and thus get caught in inanity
Caught up in ancient teachings and new bitter fantasies
such as Nietzche with his belief that God is dead
When to me God is the concept of reality, nature, our own subconsious
that ties us all together in myriad connections
and gives birth to all of our culture and ideas and societies, etcetera
Mass-consciousness at its finest; what they call multiple personality disorder of schizophrenia
as voices pervade our heads in random, sporadic fashions
to either beat down or lift up and to those who enjoy silence, I salute
but only insofar as to life a single finger in the midst of my hand because I know the truth:
in silence the sound of madness begins
and begs and beckons
So shhhhhh a moment and listen in
when the frequencies around us invade our senses again
information coming from all around us, whether we're conscious of it or not
and all around us are signs of supernaturality we try to hide
from spirits and ghosts that affect our emotions and thoughts
to shifting consciousness from alternate reality to alternate reality
and who is to say that time travel isn't possible within the mind, to touch your past or future selves in both this life and others and create other alternate realities, who is to say you can't?
And who is to say that such is wrong when it doesn't change the one we're in
When we have to actually coincide words with actions and thoughts to get the ball rollin'
I have come from nothing; from the most dismal depths of depression
to rise above the noise and confusion and feel myself heightened
from dark halls of negativity and fear and paranoia, insecurity
to golden dreams of future reality possibilities
Experiencing life in ways that skeptics deem insane
from chakras, to spirits, to Gods and devils, demons and angels and so much more
From the earthy vibrancy to soar through the universe within my minds third eye
which surprisingly is located very near to the pineal gland that releases some sweet concoctions
that stir the mind and frees it into such mental copulations of imaginations
mental masturbation
And therein lies cosmic joke after cosmic joke
as I've heard the greatest stories never told
and they were awesome
past fears forgotten
I've walked through death and peered through the veil that separates
seen reality through perceptions I could never self-create
and I'm not even ashamed to admit it, nor am I afraid
for I'm still here, still alive, still standing and breathing and moving forward in life
And what I know of life is that most never try or try to hard to get it right
and my life; MY life; has been one hell of a ride
as I've challenged political doctrines and taken the throne out from established rulers if only in a game setting, we played as if it were real
and debated philosophers down to where they could not argue their theories any further for lacking the consistency of mind to argue correctly
without degrading themselves to losing control or sight of themselves and jealous with envy
I've fought fights that most have never fought; waged my own war against bullying and tormenting across the internet
and my name still isn't legend, that IS a safe bet
I don't even mind, because in my mind, I've gone from poverty to be King, to married life with kids and wife and lost it all to be a ghost of my own self
which was already a ghost of a ghost of a ghost of my own self
the depths I've plummeted in my falling have only been topped by the heights I've climbed in my soaring flights
And would you believe it if I told you
that I conquered even insanity itself, every insecurity known to man, even though it's still a work in progress?
Through all of this, I stood supreme in my own life and played the hero of my own life while simply doing what I felt I had to for a simple problem in the world around me
corruption and fear-mongering, lies and deceit
divisions across the land between every grouping of man
false divisions, falsely contrived for self-gain where self-gain should never have been made
and so many countless streams of belief that should have evolved now stagnate
to which I brought them together again within me
I've gone to the higher ups, to God and the Devil themselves and brought them into me
pointed to the mess all around and told them, now it's your turn to clean
Called fate to the floor, destiny, the elements all around; made calls to nature everywhere from small animals to long-living trees
Even to my own DNA as I take apart my own brain and reprogram it into something infinitely superior to what was there before
questioning the possibility of blood cell nanobot technology and if I could create such within myself through sheer will and process of thought
Been to the bottom of my own dark abyss through mushrooms and my own deep-rolling thoughts
as my pineal gland activates DMT spreads throughout creating for thoughts culture the perfect breeding ground
Where science fails and math fails and everything else fails, I do not
I see the similarities and the differences and where they got stopped
to which I cry, 'hold on, you guys are approaching the same thing from different sides!'
'Don't you know this thing you are examining is called 'life'?
And that all of everything we know stems from inside?'
To which I lament the poor nature of education and the world around
as intelligently stupid I am to confuse and confound, but really simply just because it's easier to indulge insanity every now and then than try to repress it
and so I remain an idiot savant, having entire conversations with friends at times of odd noises or pop culture phrases
and then move on to deliver the most awe-inspiring pieces of text that many have ever seen
and here I am doing it again here and in this place and with you
and do you know I just make this up as I go and as it flows through and through
and where it comes from, I don't know what to say other than reality itself, when the Gods do play
Freeflowing life is my specialty and I never like to force it, though certain challenges I rise to
and so you find, dear sir, that I wrote this completely in the now as I went and spent only a little time typing it
you'll probably spend more time reading it than it took to put it here
and I am unashamed nor boastful of such, it's just a simple statement
as all around me I see people wondering how to live life and the answer is so simple:
just live it, let it flow through you and you will be fine, no need to make it more complex than that unless you have to for a moment
for lifes complexity is simple and lifes simplicity is complex
yet for any thing that you do or learn, you will stumble and falter until you learn it well
and then you will let it flow through you if it is your calling
where the world fails and so does society
creating jobs never needed for greed that we hate
to deliver unto the world untold luxury and spoiled behavior; call it kismet or fate
as we rise to meet ancient prophecies at the same time as creating something new that no religion could ever have prepared us for
for all religions are wrong and yet all are right
too many of them turning to petty politics and between themselves fight
but the fight is changing drastically toward peace as peace becomes the new warfare
until such a time as they hope we forget
through the shifting, changing consciousness they seek to circumvent
control us through emotions in ways we can only begin to imagine
and certainly conspiracy theorists have named quite a few
but what if it's just reality; living; doing what it has to
until such a time as we evolve past all of this wanton idiocy
that is really just a perfect reaction to a world filled with misery
My words; my phrases; my interactions with the world around me
has certainly caused a chain-reaction
to which I posit the theory and possibility that maybe I am that one
perhaps I am that Jesus Christ, as if such a title were worth a damn thing
my fate still waylaid, my life still not over and I can only guess at what happens next
the world continues on as it tries to ignore what has happened before and yet no true closure on anything has been given yet
we are stagnant and seeking to forget that fact but in the wells of silence and madness we seek to fill with sound, it will get us in the end
We will finally have to make that leap; as much as it might hurt; into the next stage of human societal evolution and hope it's that final one that grants peace as so many dream that it should be
and if the world were healthier, which so many people are trying to make it so
it would be easier and yet here we are fighting momentum of events from before we were here
as the waters stir and mountains rumble and wind blows to and fro
If only I could live forever, just to see what happens next and yet if I'm correct, one way or the other, we all will live forever as part of a greater spiritual consciousness whether our physical bodies are alive or dead and reincarnation may indeed be possible
for how else can certain things be explained?
'Yolo' the kids say as I laugh and laugh at them
I know; my spirit has been around the block quite a bit before this life and yet I can't remember a damn bit of it
Not that it matters, not in the slightest, though it's easy to get curious
and curiosity always manages to buoy people back up again
But, this is where this train stops and I get off
Peace, love and harmony and don't forget pass it on.

- See more at: ... O45KF.dpuf
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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The Eternal Warrior
Posts: 2550
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Mon Jan 05, 2015 8:02 pm

I have a slight confession to make: a few months back, my inner chakras opened and I learned a bit about my eternal spirit. This may sound crazy and I don't really care, but I was the angel Lucifer. When I was cast out of heaven, I tilled the fields with the people of Earth and learned a lot from the freemasons who knew more of God's secrets than the angels did, for having been made in his image of the immaterial within the material, binding flesh to spirit for periods of time. Secrets about the shifting nature of reality and the hidden doorways all around.

I wasn't kicked out of Heaven for anything horrible, but because I sat on that throne of Gods as part of his plan without knowing it and learned what I was meant to learn and when my time came to be 'thrown out', I went.

The mortals knew me as Lucifer, but also knew that the name of Lucifer was tainted in the other angels eyes and minds; for a purpose. I enjoyed working the fields and learning how to craft with wood and all of the other various parts of living life and we had great times. They clothed me and fed me and housed me and then did the greatest of things and 'baptized' me in life with a new name: Michael the Redeemer.

Over time, I played a part as different people here and there such as Aristotle, King Solomon, etc.; even experiencing the lives of 'ordinary' people who failed to stand out. I was also Jesus Christ and died a martyr to set people free, not die for their 'sins'.

There is a purpose and a reason for why everything happens and it's not up to us know the when or where or why or how of it. That's not even for God to know; it's not in Gods plans. Reality (God) decided that it was best not knowing certain things while being able to know other things without knowing how or why we know them. We don't like to talk about our downfalls, is what can be said and life itself is still a learning lesson even for immortals and a testing ground.

You can complain and bitch all you want, but in essence, we made this reality what it is over an extended period of time; we made our own God this thing other than what we would imagine God to be, but it's always what has been the truth of God. While we angels sat in Heaven and worshipped him in his silence with what we knew of him, how could we know what the mortals knew inherently at the time? Things that were beaten out of them over time by embittered angels who snuck out of Heaven or openly came down here to live as mortals and did not know the pains of living and were not able to accept them as an answer of how our Lord became so wise and great.

People look for an answer of how it all began and truthfully it began from the inside out, from a middle standpoint and all time flows from that standpoint; all of everything, with the appearance of linearity until such a point as we all hit that midpoint and experience the shift for our selves. The Universe of infinite possibilities was designed and held within the mind of a mere mortal who subconsciously put it all together and held it within their own mind without even knowing how it all worked; was just solving a problem or two.

That mortal became known as God incarnate in the flesh; and all life stems from them; all of everything, in all directions. That is why people were counting down before Jesus Christ was born; they were just about 2,000 years off, possibly more. we are both the creators and the creations, the imaginers and the imaginations. We are all connected and all disjointed, all God and yet not God at all. All very much real and yet all very much contrived. To be sure, other realities exist and there is a very real Heaven and a very real Hell and yet neither are anything like you expect them to be and both very much suited for the souls that inhabit both. Except, there is war between them and they were once a family and much more tied into this reality than they are now for the divide between them and Earth and this reality are directly in the middle of it all; countless worlds used to be tied together and all one before the split, so many legends passed down from the ages speak of it and so much more and we have memories of it tied to our spirits that present themselves throughout our lives in dreams or visions to which some create stories, others create music or movies and many create prophecies from them.

We are living in a land of lost divinity where divinity was once strongest; a land of magic where magic now sleeps and hibernates waiting for a time that it can wake and truly breathe again, alive. We live in a world where something intangible can grab us up metaphorically and take us for a ride and we get labeled as crazy for it by the time we come back to ourselves, knowing full well all the while that we're not crazy and avidly trying to prove it which was once used to further the evidence that we were crazy,

Heaven isn't as nice as it once was and people in Hell come here for a cozy vacation. And, it was said once that a Kingdom would come to this plane of reality and last a very, very long time. All they could imagine back then were thousands of years; they had no concept of millions or billions and all of reality itself is still very, very young. Our planet and our solar system is young and there is much out there to explore beyond our own planet. This is what we get to do as living creatures that we can't do so much as immaterial: we get to experience and do and go places and yet so many would go on ahead and leave everyone else behind and that's not so much fun. That's not doing things right.

It is positively odd just what we can experience in life and I'm sure some would find it terrifying or maddening; I find it to be a great relief in a lot of ways, because now I have answers I've been struggling to find most of my life and I really don't care what anyone else thinks of me or wants to judge me for. This life of mine is mine to live and I've been suffering a long time without knowing why. I've stood out from the crowd for a long time, especially online and I've begun to merge my inner personality with my outer and the balance is just epic when it's there. It's my greatest work in progress and it means more to me than almost everything else in life. About the only thing that could compare to it would be to have a family some day in a land that was truly free and yet I would probably just settle for having a family which is probably why life hasn't seen fit to give me one, yet.

I would settle down and forget about the world not being free, I'd find it easier to fit in and get a job and I wouldn't care so much about the people struggling around the world due to the problems. I would try to juggle both, but... you can't have two competing passions like that without bringing harm to both. That's the problem of life as it exists: they seek to make you have a family too soon, to settle into having a job and house and responsibilities so that you're less likely to actually fight the injustices in the world or to actually live life as it was intended, which is the greatest injustice done to people in this day and age. And yet, I could see the day where people could juggle such without hurting both. However, they just don't let people 'do it all' and it's kind of hard to fight a system you're being a part of until you realize you're being forced to keep being a part of it.
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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The Eternal Warrior
Posts: 2550
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Sun Feb 15, 2015 9:00 pm

My WiFi adapter in my laptop is going out, so don't mind my absences from here if you do mind them. I'm not homeless, yet; to update that knowledge for you. My sister is letting me stay with her for a bit and I'm hoping to get a job soon. I have been busy with writing, though.

A Conversation With Darkness

(darkness starts the conversation and it alternates (in case you couldn't figure it out on your own))

death will come to you
ye who waits with baited tongue
for chance to scorn with tainted love
truth for all lies consumed
exhumed within like graves of deadmen; deadwomen
dead children of dead enlivened, alive again
a world of nonsense in which you are encased
like so much rust on the brain, diseased thought trains
raising high your self like some king of kingdom come
on earth and his will be done
but a charlatan of hypocrisy for judgment repressed
truth of self giving bad digest
and this I say to you; you so self-stated master of self
you con artist of self, master of illusionary gains
while the world around you you perceive to writhe in pain
while pain itself is the greatest gain against which you fight in vain
fight in vain for vanities sake, your own vanity
to be a hero-never wanted, a lover never taken
yet taken you were, loved you were and by them you had forsaken
a coward and a fool whose courage has seen you through nothing
nothing at all and you claim wisdom from nonsense
insanity clogging your mind as I speak through you
I, the invisible entity from which your brilliance is contrived
and upon your shit-pile of a life that you made for your self
when all others actually made lives for themselves
what of your will except to see the world burn
tear it apart because of the 'truth' you hold in your heart
that drives you to destroy as much as you claim to want to build
something greater, it becomes worse
living the lie of self-conceived 'great' men
who find themselves within hallucinogens, fevered visions
is that where you are, where you are like to go?
and with reason against reason you have railed
for what sense, to what extent
you claim yourself not better but better than everyone else
and who can solve that riddle dear sir, answer me that
a contradiction in terms? no, you made your self that
nobody told you to be anything like that at all
and yet through disjointed mental planes you saw your self
and pieced together a monster instead of a man
destroyed truth and gave lie a face, a beast with a plan

Is that all you have to say to me
you beast disguised with reason, with false reasoning do you weigh
and give unto me as truth with a beautiful face
mimicing me as I learn from you
or am I mimicing you as you learn from me
or do we learn at all, where together we did fall
and if I were to say such contradictions of self
should not you wonder how I found heaven through such hell
was it contrived then, a lie I told my mind to bend
beyond reason to love something that should be hated
my self when I have been tested and weighted and fated
to living such life in a current I struggled against
and then struggled to understand, what I had to accept and take in hand
rise up against impossible odds of the mind
as voices and emotions did weigh me down with thoughts of death
death for which I have yet to face; death which I must some day take with me to a final rest
and where will you be then, you scornful scorner
you mockery of the faithful, of the light filled
and say to me that I am filled with shadow
yet such filling was by design and compliments the glow
of light found within, that subtle and intricate wealth
of spirit infused with balance and so I did grow
but where were you when I needed you
there was God and he saw me through
but you, you voice of an instrument of destruction
have plagued me with thoughts maddening, yet cessant
and often I have claimed them to be incessant, to trouble me without end
until I found the truth behind them, found mental clarity through them
a contradiction in terms or a contradiction found to be consistent when unwound and stretched along the ground
to fill in holes unseen which might trouble and sprain peoples ankles and feet
where are you then, but forcing people to focus on something other than their surroundings
so that their feet find those holes in the ground that I would fill
and tripping them up, causing them to lose more metaphorically as their cups do spill
over and giving rise to that tormenting voice that for some instances seems correct reason
do vent with negativity and with curses on their tongues do lament
the hole that caused them to trip instead of their own clouded vision
for such vision should be clear and yet is not for you are there
and you are there yet the vision is clear for those who are able
to feel around, give testament to more than the cocophony of senses recognized
as constant and tried and tested senses, yet you're still bound by some form of rope or cable
to some existence you have wound into some sort of self-confessing fable
as we look at the world around us, see it tumble and fall into place beside us
watch it spill along the ground and into the holes only to fit unwell
and seeing your work unwound around us all, who can say that your work was done well at all
a simple job to do and yet you have consistantly failed
to keep people down, from keeping the peace, from keeping the world in a constant state of chaos
just let go and let it be done; let it be over-

let me interrupt you, boy
I don't do this as a job or as a favor, but for pleasure
you think I corrupt and entice, but I only show you the truth of your self
what you would be, what you could be and ultimately what you should be
for it is wild and it is survival of the fittest animal
savage garden you claim it and find it beautiful
and yet you would tame that animal, take away its fangs

now I never said that at all, if you would just listen-

but I do listen, and I'm tired of listening to your lies as you confound a multitude of others
confuse them with abstract thoughts as you show a man across the lines and divided not by them
giving true chaos to an order intricate and tried by time

maybe you're just afraid that not enough time has been given to see the full extent
of what you have created and you have become bent
on that one defining factor, that maybe you did it wrong...

but then you find yourself here with me again, insulting me
as if you don't think I have thought of you thinking that thought for thoughtful diligences sake
but you are a phony, a charlatan and a fake
not a wise man at all, but one twisted and fighting himself
look at you type on this laptop as if you have something to say
look at you argue with your self in poetic fashion for your own sake
to try to bring to rest and give peace to some imagined eternal conflict
that you think with a childs simplicity plagues the world

yes, I do and don't think that I'm unaware of such
that I'm unaware of the insanity inherent within when viewed by others
and yet I will share it with others, whether you want me to or not
what should they think when my brilliance shows such not to be a lost cause
that it can be fought; that it can be won

hah, a fool are you if you think such can be won
such unrest within ones self only destroys and is never 'fun'
but there I digress and lie because fun is found regardless and can you even tell
a difference between your self and your self
isn't that what you are seeking to do
to reinvent people and voices inside your own mind
and attribute personality to them in truth
while you chatter away in your brain with the mark of the insane
barely able to stop your self from reacting openly and out loud
what can you say to me, what can you do to me other than refine me and define me

and is that not what I choose to do, is that not my pursuit, you fool?
to give rise to both what is dark and what is light, to walk through twilight
and show a balance that has yet to be found in men
to rise up and give testament
to something better than any other, better than most of them?
and should you not rest in silence at such a sight
yet here you contest me in a new way, which I meet with delight
and laugh with excitement a bit inside
even while pressed with the need to see it through
here I am, where again are you?

inside of you, you fool; a part of you
and if you think me any different than that, then you are misguided; a tool
for some 'thing' contrived by many other half-assed idiots

and therein I must conclude that you've ran out of steam
ran out of ways to bash against my reason with false reason
have learned a lot and so I must give tribute
to say to you, good effort, keep it up; I don't see my self as any better than you
just something learning and growing, something that may have inspired you
fired you up and gave you reason to try something new
or something you might have forgotten

(motherfucker, I'm you)

Are you? I see no proof of it. Your voice is inside of my mind
you are inside of me, but perhaps that's not the end of the story
perhaps there are more possibilities that some would count as foolish
You confound me, you confuse me; you plague and torture me
and to which I must conclude, you must be infatuated with me
love me dearly; something you would hate to lose

(fuck you, I dance alone; fuck you)

yet here we are dancing together, are we not
creating art in the midst of chaotic insanity
and I find it filled with honest beauty
something that came together from fractured consciousness
and so I blow you a little kiss
and say to you, good luck, and don't give up before it's finished.

(fuck you)

Conversing with Death

what are you?


what are you doing here

killing time.


is it?

No, that's sarcasm

why are you sarcastic?

is that death asking a question?

forget it.

what are you looking for?

A way to give up my job and walk away

have you found it?


what is it?

it's you.


because you're you

what does that mean?

You are you and so I have found my answer

how does me being me free you from your job

too complicated to answer

don't give me that bullshit

I refuse to answer

fair enough

is it?

not really, it doesn't satisfy

answers rarely do

what will you do after your job is over?

pass it on to you

why would you do that?


why would you pass your job on to me?

because it's fitting


to cause you to be contrary to your self, it would be funny

why do you assume it's contrary to my self?


I will not be death

you will not be death

death will keep its job

death will forsake its job


when you become death

then death would keep its job

except you forsake it, too

then someone else comes along...

and they do a horrible job

yet the job is still done

you don't understand

such are conversations with death where death is unrevealing


care to say anything further?


is that all you came here for?


what else?

to watch you, you're interesting

how so?

unrevealing; for you to figure out

isn't that a way of saying to exercise my vanity?

yes, hahaha

what will you do after giving up your job?

stop killing

and grant people immortal life?

in a manner of speaking

you're dodging the answer

maybe there is no answer

there is always an answer

is there?


then answer everything

not everything needs to be answered

question everything

not everything requires questioning

you questioned me

you presented your self for questioning

Countless Worlds

There are countless worlds inside of me
to be explored, to be found again in mystery
countless worlds inside of us; all of humanity
worlds we experience within this world we know as reality
worlds we share, some times we don't
worlds we take part in and of to shape as we go
together we grow, together we define and build
together, naturally, mixing and binding as we still
a darkened tide that shifts and thunders with cold-stone
where heroes are legend, magic is livened
and in between this world and the next is where we go before we awaken
to mass reality, dull monotony; rabid withered harmony
where, in the wild, men and women still live and breathe
within society that exists in spite of society for sake of community
where community exists in spite of greed, in spite of insanity
and together in darkened channels of void-abyss filled matter
within our brains when pushed to the limit they activate to full potential
indescribably connecting through various nerve endings different channels
of mind-altering concoctions to bring us together
to create these worlds throughout our culture
and I'm in every single one of them
in one way or another, sometimes countless
seeing my self in so many people; seeing them in me
from rounded personality to personality assimilated randomly
to bring countless faces and phrases alive inside
in different forms and functions to guide and instruct
and to which do I count myself so lucky
as to find invisible connections of essence made manifold
energy coalescing to become data in large amounts, untold
fractions of insane connecting traction through space and time
mental masturbation of colliding wills within the folds; watch them shine
with golden energy anew as these worlds are brought to life in front of our eyes
when behind our eyes in those dark abysses and voids they grew and became what we knew
fractals of our spirits, fractions of our reality fissioning off to create alternate copies
heroes and villains that exist inside of us because they have to
for repressions sake, creating masterpieces so beautiful across the cultural landscape
life a muse for which art is a muse for which creation is but a stepping stone
to telling a story that, for all its turns and underfolds can not be told
and to which this is just another stepping stone from ideas to idea
with undercurrents beneath the writing catching you as you go
words unsaid and thoughts unthought and yet said and thought all the same
to which do we create this stain of pain upon our brains
and is that not a simplistic rhyme to craft within this world of worlds
with a multitude of connections, I find those ones often while others few
same as applied to different things, rhymes being applied to numbers and science, too?
and infinite other things in reality around us, we find certain things often and others few
until enough of some is had to generate a new round of growth all around in so many things
and now you're growing inside of you alongside all the others, giving your power to inner thinking
creating worlds with your thoughts in circular fashion, creating dust that blows in aether winds
across multiple dimensions of countless possibilities
creating the building blocks for someones elses paved walkways
creating life and trees that blow in a twisting reality we all love and know
somewhere inside of our selves where anything and everything goes
where we pass each other likes strangers, yet still say hello
greet each other like friends yet never lament being alone
to which do we owe more to, man the animal detached or nature to which the animal is still attached
caught again to create fractals of thought for the sake of growth
And where do we go when caught up in the moment we become
moving like angels or demons, effortlessly through the landscape
for all the stories we did consume, the realities we did imbibe and partake of
for all the life experiences we did commit our selves to learning
to getting in depth in, allow the feeling of and the deep emotion taking root
to get in the moment of these stories and other worlds as they come to life around us and through us
and feel the emotionality and vibrational connections found within the multitude
and not just them, but between others, too
I will take you on a journey through the horizons and pastures of the mind
over the tallest peaks and through the lowest valleys, through hidden passages and darklit recesses
where the mark of man has yet to be found, through the darkest parts of our oceans blue
and rise again above the skies above to soar the oceans of stars, through galaxies near and far
through pleasure and pain, through war and peace we'll reign
as gods and guardians of the mental domain
countless worlds through which to soar and find hidden connections
countless worlds inside us all worth meeting and keeping alive, cultivating
countless worlds where madness never touched and dark denizens dare not trod
and countless worlds where they reign supreme and where fights are still fought
if not for our world should we learn, then for the countless underworlds to come to peace
and in dark nightmares should we take the unexpected routes, find our selves in moonlit pastures
beyond the pain and torture that should be there would we find instead some hidden pleasure
of contentedness, never twisted or confused for something else
heaven beyond that which hell we've made for our selves in our own minds
through countless worlds we'll tread and find our selves in again and again
in countless ways, seeing similarities in so many others just like us
in situations we may never be in and yet have been in similar all the same
but this is where I leave you for now, to go create more connections in more realities
and more worlds in more stories; more probable possibilities
if you dare; if you don't scare; then see you on the other side of the waking mind

The Fight

As long as I live this life I'll fight this fight
never give up, never back down, never act like a bitch or a clown
that backs down from his words after they're spoken or actions after they're acted
out in the open like no one ever before, watch it spin out of control
and then back into control through universal moments beyond our knowledge
and experience shows that it's right, somehow it's right even though it feels wrong some times
and isn't that the way the world goes, that reality shows
itself through each of us, traumatic, memetic, experiences combined and shared and multiplied
and the fight against it all just becomes me
never picked a side, never wanted to; was just too pathetic to be
accepted by anyone else; outsider; and so they pretended
like the way they treated me was correct, like it was okay
but I used it to catapult myself further, make myself great
wanted to give up so many times it's not even funny
but pushed myself forward, found answers thrown at me by life
in ways that many would just lie about or try to deny
and I throw down against all comers; against all sides
whenever they feel like bucking up, whenever they feel like attacking
and I attack back when I can from a stable ground
of reason and sense and self control
fighting an ultimate and epic fight
while trying to just live my life
a pity for the romantically inclined
and yet married to it without a ring on my hand
just a roll of the dice for a gambling man
whose gambles take him higher for the risks he takes are few
and the gambles he makes aren't for gain, but just to experience
fighting for something intangible, entirely unexplainable
waking up to reality profound; thoughts and perceptions unbound
and laid out all around like so much... words can not express
the way it comes and goes and the way I feel reality as it flows
through me and around me like music in art and in so many variations
where music is just a word and all life becomes it in so many fashions
where it becomes beautiful when viewed as a whole and in the correct order
bouncing from moment to moment and seeing the linearity of non-linear time and flowment
and the fight I fight is for those who get lost in insanity
reaching forth to try the best I can to help out
both physical and out loud and in my mind, mental
using telepathy and psychic powers if they exist
and if they don't then I can rest content that I tried and took it serious
for the possibility that might have existed and could exist that we might have repressed
tried too much and in the wrong ways to hold back
and this fight becomes much too real at times
when the voices surround and attack and seek to drag me down
like so many forms of art in so many varying creatures
where the darkness swirls and then I become it
become filled by it and shine again anyway
become a swirling vortex of light and darkness
twilight paths trod and balance found in chaos
would you be able to believe a thing I talked about or a thing I said
would you be able to extend the benefit of the doubt to give a try
to something unexplainable, unprovable, to find truth for your self?
I love this life and this reality and love it all regardless even through the hate and the pain
and I love the fact that it learns from me with each attack as I learn from it
and we push each other to greater heights and I might just be the first human in a long time
to give it reason to push aside negativity in its own subconscious and universal mind
a universal living reality existing in so many varying facets of our own minds
destroying sanity in some and yet in the strong...
cultivating it prominantly and it becomes seen as genius in similar minds
that have been too afraid to speak their minds
afraid to accept truth in all its forms
caught up too much in horrible thought processes
and so I continue the fight in roundabout fashion
and swirl it together, blend it all until it becomes something managable
learning as I go and yet knowing exactly what I'm doing
working it out in ways to explain with the words I use
to explain to people in various ways in various methods
the things I experience as if I'm driven to
and I feel it coming and going, ebbing and flowing
in so many formats and so many waves upon waves and through waves in so many ways
wrapping me up and sending me through in different motions and different rhythms
and it all breaks down to the same lessons applied to so many different things
and yet it never gets old, never gets stale; just goes on and becomes furthering of thoughts
pushes you forth to imagine more and see further, to live anew
to get caught up and lost in thought until you no longer get lost and enjoy the journey
and then appreciate life all the better when you're you again and able to see instead of being wrapped up in your mind
loving it all as if some unspoken and unbroken rhyme some times without rhyme
some unsung melody or untold story
perhaps the greatest romance or adventure never told
perhaps some great cosmic joke never spoken out loud
and yet heard all the same, enjoyed in the brain
some unheard words floating in the back and going along with whatever flow you're in
finding the rhythm as it goes and becoming the fight itself
becoming martial arts in all its forms, in mental subconscious strains
becoming art itself and peace again through endurance struggles
adding to the mystery and the history of life itself
passed down in memetic legacy from self to self
and back around to us all in more varied forms
and all we are are dust in the winds of time
or are we the winds in the sands of time
blowing but never settling, gracing yet never truly co-existing
and yet some form of harmony is still found in the shifting
that happens so randomly and against the best predictions
obscuring the fight and bringing the fog of war to our minds
to prevent clarity of thought to make it fair, or so it seems to me some times
for I find life to be perfectly fair and only understood why it is so later on and after the fact
because when you understand what you're going to do in your life, everything else just makes more sense
unless of course some lies have been told and accepted full-scale
but isn't that just the fight I fight? against all the wrong for all the right
and what is it this time except some new take on the same old things
some new perception of growth that still embraces change and balance
and forces people to face their consequences


How do I tell my story
rolling through the abyss
stopping once in a while to fight the darkness
whenever confronted by it
how do I tell my story of those worlds
traversed and known and from them I learned
where words can be placed in any order
and still be understood
where reality unfolds from within reality
and lays over the top
only to jump back and do it again
of the rebounding echoes and lesser voices
that sit there and talk amongst themselves
carry on conversations as if they were me
only to be interrupted and put in place
whenever they deviate
how do I tell the stories that were locked inside
of different lives, different perceptions
overdrive, then underdrive, both at the same time
mixed in with various receptions from different conceptions
with words and actions voiced from different directions
where I travel from deep to shallow
and back again, spreading out and high and low
spherical and then star-shaped
go to frazzle bursts of sound and light
and then bring it back into a sphere to a cube
shaping something, and then the other things
traveling time and space and counting nameless face
no names and no faces, though familiar voices arise
and then disappear into the coming tides
how do I tell these stories
how do I say what's inside of me
only giving tribute; only giving a base due
only telling a partial fraction of a partial fraction
of passing fractals within fractals becoming back doors
to other fractals and then back again, over and under
like some sort of dance in the mind of some sort of rhythm that is sublime
directionless, shapeless and then all too soon having direction and shape
all too soon back again
and then nice and slow and easy only to slow down too much
enjoying a moment of insanity in either extreme
and then the extremes of the middles of the ends of the beginnings of...
back and forth and then over and around and back through again
to another memory moment, another infringement of the abyss
stare too long and it stares back
insane is insane but what is sane, what is that
and how do we explain or begin to communicate
what goes on inside our brains
should we bother, should we try
when so many are confused and so compartmentalize
can there be too much not enough of excess recess in repress of deepest depress regress
if not sense made be can we not down look or up fly sky the beyond
soar through trees and escape from a not-so-hidden pond
rollercoaster rides and space-time heights
down through darkness and back to light
and dark with lights on and light within darks arms
in moonless skies where comfort still comes in sight
even when all else is withheld from your eyes
and if I forgot where I'd been and where I was going
all to remember again and then continue the story
would you love me or hold it against me
hate me and turn against me, turn away with disgust in your face
only to do the same on some cloudless night looking up to being lost in space
through the shifting realities of the mental frontiers
find yourself looking for some substance to land on
but finding nothing having to continue on to see new things that are all the same familiar
reminding you again just like I was once and will be some time
through past and future connections and countless voices
that, aside from the times they are annoying and burdensome, become quite helpful
to supply things I need when I need them, they choose certain times not to be resentful
for countless worlds lost in the folds of my own mind
within realities around realities through the very essense of this one
that we claim to coinhabit and yet can't quite prove it yet
for all the trauma drama that exists and never could quite be undone
so to tomorrows yesterday and yesterdays past today we'll go together
maybe some times in some ways in some figments past or future
come together and see each other through various incongruous thoughts
through inconsistent and orderless words find each other all the same
in some distorted version of something we thought we knew
only to find our way back again to what we did know with something new
an outlook and deep look at all that is around us
a question brimming our minds we can never quite frame
and swirling vortexes of communications rebound through the deepest recesses
and the sound is soothing at times, something I can fall asleep to
feeling connected beyond my means to a multitude, to even other versions of me and you
countless beyond countless imagine depths and in moments of clarity
can see it all unfold and be something greater and grander for all the ambiguousity
and I never saw it at all until I learned to clear my mind
or was it more than just my mind
these insane thoughts I love to think about
when they aren't pressing me with forced perception to them
and I can mimic those forced perceptions to look through countless doors
to possibilities unfolded and showed in full
and how they might fit together, this I see in my minds eye
and how can I tell the full story of the fights I fought
of what happens in the darkness behind the shroud of my conscious mind
where it blacks out purposefully what it wants to hide
even from myself and so I must find
it all out for myself as it unfolds in due time
even my own life as others have done, how do I tell those stories
of countless lives lived in one, not even to mention the mental ones
and how they all fit together in myriad connections
the ins and outs I'm learning as I go as I learn more and more
but the only way to truly communicate it is to experience it
maybe it's all just make-believe and pretend
but I like the way it brings itself to me and makes me believe
helps me to extend the benefit of the doubt that it wasnt created by me
these fragments of thoughts that all connect in one layer of thought or another
and me only seeing brief glimpses of it as I travel through one and then another layer
through layers, with layers, back and forth coming and going
and the words and ideas and time areas lay over each other
intricately weaving something so majestic as to defy explanation
and yet I can't help but try to give tribute as best I can
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby MagsJ » Sun Feb 15, 2015 10:10 pm

...and there was I wondering what happened to you just this morning... now I know.
The possibility of anything we can imagine existing is endless and infinite

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Orbie » Mon Feb 16, 2015 6:34 pm

Since this is long and interesting, will read it today and comment.later.
[size=50][/size]Allone's Obe issance

In answer to your prayer
sincere, the centre of
your circle here,
i stand ; and , without
taking thought,-
i know nothing. But i can

Full well your need-as
you be men
This: Re-Creation. With a
Then, your obedient

servant now.
One gift is all i find in me,
And that is faithful
partly cloudy, with a few showers
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Location: Night of infinite faith


Postby The Eternal Warrior » Thu Apr 16, 2015 1:04 am

Well, I'm not homeless yet. Spent a couple months at my sisters house but it didnt work out so now Im staying with a friend while looking for work. The wifi adaptor in my laptop went out so I've been typing my thoughts up and will post those when I can. Using a very cheap cell phone to post this and luckily my internet access is free on it. I've also been continuing to work on my mentality which, contrary to popular, spoiled opinion is dead wrong, feels more right than anything else in my life. I am divergent. I am sane. I am what others fear because they cant figure me out or stop what I bring to the world. I am strong and powerful and for the first time in my life, I know that perfectly and due to my time spent in the darkness I am unwilling to abuse it. I have no regrets. If you think I should be ashamed of the beast inside of me... Then perhaps you need to square away with the beart in you. No one but pussy-shit bitches care when a bully gets what they deserve in such passive means.
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Orbie » Thu Apr 16, 2015 4:30 am


I promised I would return, but still could not find the time to read it. I hope to get back to You. You sound like a singular voice crying in the desert. maybe I'll smoke one to get into the resonance of it. later
[size=50][/size]Allone's Obe issance

In answer to your prayer
sincere, the centre of
your circle here,
i stand ; and , without
taking thought,-
i know nothing. But i can

Full well your need-as
you be men
This: Re-Creation. With a
Then, your obedient

servant now.
One gift is all i find in me,
And that is faithful
partly cloudy, with a few showers
Posts: 7596
Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2012 6:34 pm
Location: Night of infinite faith

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Zoot Allures » Thu Apr 16, 2015 4:36 pm

Well, I'm not homeless yet.

That's very unfortunate. I'm sorry to hear that.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Fri May 01, 2015 5:09 pm

The Fight Worth Fighting

I was never the type to spoil for a fight
It never even used to enter my mind
but spent some time in the trenches
sitting down doing finger bench presses
fighting against superior numbers
all while true love slumbers
taking down ten to twenty here and there
with just my words, but don't pretend like you care
just defending myself and my philosophy talks
and this is just me continuing to walk my walk
Spent time in the political ring
and gave it my all through all the bee stings
until I could out-debate the devil himself
stood up against bullies and gave full tribute
to the fight unfought in my life; paid my dues
until I ran out of places to go, places to be ran out of
debated with philosophers, some of the best
who could give me a run for my money and put me to the test
and ran each one into the ground
ain't that profound
having my mind wake up on me and drag me through a series
of perception-changes that should have scared me
and all it did was make me feel alive
gave me a new fight to fight, to add to the pile
and found my way through even that after a while
Among such thoughts as power and ego I found myself a stranger
and even now I fight to keep myself grounded, remembering my past
where I'd been and what I'd been through
and how such thoughts would be so alien ten years ago
No, I was never one to spoil for a fight
but that was before the blood awoke inside of me
and washed over my eyes and my brain, changing me
for some excitement, what I wouldn't give
for a decent verbal sparring match
where I could find an equal to give back
and keep on moving to develop thoughts beyond where they've been
to create anew the fundamentals of everything
breathe life into decadent structures
where for words too far stretching beyond laymans comprehension
have become detached, afraid of failure of advancement
wrapped too tightly in the grips of the power hungry
and therein I find again the shift from what I used to be
into something newer, something thirsting for more power
and what do I need such for? thinking thoughts of leadership
of domination and my strength of will
and where did the time go, for only yesterday it seems
I was sitting on the school bus on my way to the breeding ground
for my greatest moments of depression, to further my apprehension
lost in myself and wondering what it'd be like to be someone else
in a life so far away and so far detached from the hellish landscape
it all had become; where could heaven be for all of my tear-shaped
struggles to come together in one overwhelming final breath that never came
only another breath after another and so I found myself living on
into the darkest night and brightest light did I go
around such chains of thoughts that trouble madmen to and fro
and through darkened alleys of thoughts unbidden where only pictures and music go
through subconscious avenues barely aware of for the speed at which the concepts fly
and not once did I see myself ever actually die
for all the times I felt it on the inside
reborn in the rain of the tears that preceeded the happiness
dreading the crash that inevitably came
and bipolar, psychotic, schizophrenia; it's madness or so they claim
to overcome madness, insane in the membrane of the brain
as the blood washes over again and again
seeking to drive wedges in my thoughts
to make me think thoughts I'd rather not for naught
Over and over I find my self again
overcoming things I never thought I would
at times doubted that I even could
for failing to see others do so
and to look at it now amongst all the rest that I did
I can't help but look back with pride at the impossible made possible
where I'm going and where I've been
and isn't that just my personal testament?
what of those who watched me grow, those men and women
who witnessed the breaking of the chains with fright
for they couldn't flee fast enough into the night
from what they feared, the darkness inherent in man
the mysterious shadows that trouble the world
and they wanted me to fear those same shadows
to be broken down by them into a trembling and frightened child
broken into pieces and made subservient
and at one point I was, but I've already been
my life; my voice; too damned precious to erase
but it's just the game that they play
respect earned is respect earned
from insecure and too sensitive and yet right on the mark
to headstrong and confident with too many scars
that all have healed; I've conquered and left my legend
in places, to people, who never thought they would see the day
who couldn't see their own worth and often looked on in wonder
I was never the one to itch or spoil for a fight
and yet here I sit today looking forward to the next step
the inevitable outcome of so much tension repressed and kept inside
All the while just moving on with my life
I don't really want to fight, I tell my self
but inside, I do; I love the thrill of it
the heat of the pressure that made me better
I look forward to the day that this world is truly free
the day when we can truly learn and push ourselves further without thought of injury
where people love the fight as much as I
and sparring in so many ways becomes commonplace
where all learn and learn alike and love it all
from math to science to philosophy to martial arts
from religion to theism in general to history and commerce
where the greed and sting that money brings
is lost in the past and everything is free
I plan to live forever or until I die, whichever comes
Would that you all could join me, and whoever else makes it through to see the sun
but life is life and life is hard some times and the momentum of events dictates
that war is upon us while our governemnts asks us how their dicks taste
if not for corruption and all that I know to exist
I could easily fall into life, easily forget
get a job and a wife, a family to fill the void
and yet I can't forget as easy as it is some times
and you know I never used to spoil for the fight
but perceptions needed to be changed and it was either that or get destroyed
so I fell in love with life; fell in love with reality until it got as annoyed
with me as I did with others when they wanted to make me one of their fancy toys
to use me as they saw fit, to abuse my abilities until they got rich
and could leave me in the dust and dirt in the wake of their momentum
yet not a single one could match or lift up near as much as I do and could
the weight of this world and countless others
now rest on these shoulders easier than a single community
and looking through those subconscious channels to bring it all together
I find enough damage done; enough will to overcome
to undo even the worst of the worst and yet we're moving on
wouldn't be what we are without it all and it becomes a matter of keeping record
setting it in stone whether we mark it in our own history or not
kept by some unseen figure we label as God and yet becomes something so much more
beyond our knowledge, our wisdom and reason and sense and wipes it all away
yet loves it all the same, loves it more with every passing day
made my own luck by fighting this fight; changed the very stars I was born under
and if you were to ask if it was enough, I would say that I wished that it was
but the full closure the world needs has yet to come
so here I sit spoiling for the fight left in the dust
to come to life once again and bring me into it again
to give full rise to the destiny that fate assigned me
without asking, without promises; was something I wasn't ready to give an answer to
and yet came to accept all the same, wish people could see
that none of it is as bad as they like to make it, not the rush of confusion they make it into
complexity and simplicity in all the wrong avenues
as they think they can somehow change the very fiber of the world
to erase the consequences that are due
and for some reason find true power denied for the sake of the few
as if it were some mystery of epic proportion that they just can't figure out
when it becomes the fact that the Gods themselves have been called to judgment
to discern the facts and deliver an ultimatum: all or nothing
and nothing might just win, yet all has to win at some point in time in some place for some people
whether our reality and our world or some other that may exist alongside or after
no, I used to hate the fight; it used to tear me apart inside
every time I cut people down who deserved it
my conscience would trouble me even while I refined it
until I realized it wasn't my conscience, but the attacks launched at it
to guilt me into resting, into laying down and dying; letting the world roll me
every time I got close to an answer and yet it couldnt stop or deny
the outcomes and the finalizations into the completions that did arise
and delivered me into my greatest successes from my greatest failures
and so I say that nature favors the fearless, for the fearless must be
those without fear and who could be without fear and act in the moment
with lies in the heart of them and who can deny that love is the decision
that forces us to ponder and to pursue insane courses that they claim unpredictable
yet wins us our biggest battles in this war of the spirit that has spanned too many eras of the world
to carry us into a future of repeats of a cycle that we've been struggling to break
and I think I might have found the answer; hope beyond hope that this is the time; this is the age
where we finally push aside decadence for greatness and find reality full on on board
matching us stride for stride, the unrelenting friend by our sides
comforting and raising high only to train us to comfort it and raise it high
when it was needed and was the friend and family figure that so many wanted God to be and were denied
for their methods of repression and tossing fuel to the fire to stoke the fires inside
to try to bring heat to a world of coldness with dark deeds that people do in broad daylight
and this is where the fight has taken me: into a world where the impossible is possible
where the strength of a single man can make a difference; where a choice made is the answer given
and where will we all be when it's over if those singular individuals can't even overcome their own problems
wrestle with their egos and pride and come out on top to ride and to fly and to leap and bound
through pastures unknown and yet known all the same, to give tribute to all that we can't describe
that gets described in one way or another anyway within our culture
they say that it can never be over, that we love the fight too much
that we'll forget in time and have to repeat the same mistakes over and over
through eternity and beyond to the other side in a new eternity forever
fear and paranoia and more fear piled high and I wonder why
they just don't see that it's said and done, this is the end and you shouldn't deny
the passage forward into whatever hell of a shitstorm lies in wait because of what lays on the other side
the possibilities that unfold and give rise to our brightest hopes and dreams
and there I've been and come back again to spread the message, to fight the fight of fights
the eternal legend, or so I imagine in my daydreams that I deserve to lift me up when I feel low
a legend to inspire all other legends, and that's just how my story goes
this fight... I sigh... who would give it up after they won it
how can you go back to what has already been that hasn't worked
when it all becomes variations of refinement and repetition to what does work
from imperfection believed to be perfection to perfection viewed to be imperfection
we just needed to keep trying until we got it right and now we find
that it was with us; inside us; the whole damn time
kept down and pushed down all our lives
and told that it was needed to wake us up inside when we come to realize
if we come to realize; to keep the peace is their goal
not to actually finalize and yet this is again how the story goes
and this is the end of the fight yet it continues on
how can I lament such a stretched out end to something so truly epic
how can I deny people from giving full tribute on all sides to something we all created
out of respect earned and respect given, we in the know all around know that this is the end
and we must see it through whether we feel like it or not; our paths; our eternal punishment
for starting it all to begin with and beginning what could not be ended so easily
to go it with style and finesse and precision; to give full measure and full movement
to allow all pieces their own leisure as much as possible
we're tired and yet awake and alive, knowing too much and yet not enough
having to learn and wanting to and yet wanting to make it last forever
at the same time as just wanting it to end and be over
this fight will never end, it will just begin again
unless we do something different and just accept it
make it a childs game that we grow out of in time
make the appropriate changes to make us all realize
the importance of each other and the importance of all of life
I think it's time to end this just like I seek the end of the greatest conflict
so until I write again, just keep your eyes open
look at the world as if it were the first time or the last time you ever did
take it all in and say hello as if you had brand new eyes and say goodbye
just in case the end does take you with it; live life as if you meant it
toss aside the things you do just to survive; the excuses that torment
and truly live from moment to moment, take risks and enjoy every minute
that life has left to give, for it might just hang in the balance
of what has already and has yet to happen
fight the fight worth fighting.
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby quantum » Sat May 02, 2015 10:56 am

forget about trying to see meaning in big content posts !!
just enjoy these nonsense fellows insanity in writing.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Sat Nov 28, 2015 8:04 pm

I often wondered what compelled people to act the way they do, until I peeled back reality and saw where the compulsions came from; the myriad sources of a multitude in an omniversal mass-consciousness; omnireality; omnilayered. Possibilities without end from every single moment for every single person; easily understood and placed and seen and accounted for and yet unable to have anything done about it at certain points in time as reality gets raped by its darker nature; past realities; the times before time leading back to the first, before the light of truth had ever reached their eyes or ears and brutal fighting were all that they knew and pure strength was all it took until knowledge and understanding deepened enough to re-define strength of will and to continue to analyze it as well as all else before it; before anything ever thought to think towards the future beyond simple exaltation of pleasures, before the masters of balance and discipline ever existed to pull out the best of pleasure and of life through temperance and mastery of self and harmonization with nature; before the first quiet peace fell upon it all.

I often wondered about the way and the why of the people around me in society, until I peeled back the layers of psychological reality to pierce the veil of community dystrophy in our modern; current; reality. And, I saw answers from that direction related to psychology from cycles of abuse that mirror the cycles of abuse from the first to the last universe; from our history to our future, detailed and outlined and put in an order that makes sense and delivers stunning impact after impact and still keeps me straight and on an even keel as I traverse my life. That profoundity that has been sought to be destroyed by the times before modern time; shadows of our past; detailed in society through our accepted ways and cycles of abuse as our own peoples tear apart our communities and societies through lack of understanding, patience, etc. and a lack of people there to truly teach them the importance of those things when dealing with others that are too much like them at times for comfort in light of disturbing truths of self and of the inner war as the universe mirrored within wars against the universe mirrored outside and then the mirror shatters.

What point was there in letting myself be so affected by bullies? From a psychological standpoint as well as a spiritual standpoint, it makes sense in such a simple statement as, 'I was different; AM different.' And, to my own eyes, I am so very similar while so many others seek to establish their differences and with such base dichotomies, I have solved paradoxes that have troubled minds for centuries, adding to my own complex diversity that is simply broken down and stated as, I am part of something greater than my self and the complexity is for lack of simplicity to break it down as mankind has wandered into its own stasis of thinking too intelligently all the time and forgetting the superb genius of simple wit that states: I can get away with this because they're expecting that.

At a certain point, it becomes ridiculous to acknowledge an insult given the same way that you once did, since your knowledge and experience has changed you since that point and your choices have lead you firmly down a path of no return. And, at that point of learning, I stopped getting angry when people insulted me and started being understanding, instead; attached a 'no-bullshit' persona to myself and rode the wind instead. I save my anger, now, for things worth getting angry at; for times worth needing anger for; for things that have not yet happened; I stockpile it somewhere and keep it safe so that I will do what needs to be done in any situation that it needs to be done because I can think beyond and think toward a time when I might need something like it and leave it loose and adaptable to whatever purpose that can benefit from it. At least with my differences, I can account for personal satisfaction and contention by knowing that I can readily handle any given situation without knowing what it might be and knowing the degree of pain and separation I'll have to return from if I have to go to that place of pain and separation.

After a while, such insults to myself become trivial and unimportant and only so many pin-pricks which to be used to push myself from thought to thought as I take pain and craft joy for myself and others as much as possible; become the ultimate recycling center for negative feelings and emotions. I am glad to be different and glad to not be the insulter that tears down others with nothing to offer after to help them get back up; I'm glad not to be the angry man with clouded-mind and blinded eyes because at least I'm not any of those who have insulted such as thee and have never been and will never be.
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Sun Nov 29, 2015 11:15 pm

You call insanity what others call eccentricity, which I call sanity. I don't know everything, but I can understand it; every bit of it. The people on these message boards have only seen a small portion of my life and yet a large portion of my growth and potential as it hit a point where it broke all expectations; shattered them. If they had seen my growth from when I was 15, on AOL; as 'idiotic idioms' and then through World of Warcraft, where I fought with bullies and 'lost' quite a bit by getting caught in insecurity, doubt and depression, though I won bit by bit even then by still being the same person that I still am, though I have changed so drastically. Through politics, on NationStates, where I watched the passing of centuries in just months and years as I watched politics go from Kings and Queens to politics and back-room power through democracy and bureaucracy. And, in the past year and a half, I have witnessed in parts the passing of eternities, millenia and many other measures of time through the growth and progression of creation; art: culture.

If you all had seen the full progression of my passage just on the internet; even when I argued some time travel and alternate reality theory on the Chrono Compendium, as well as psychology; kept a thread there much like this one here entitled 'where time is meaningless'; where I fell, when, how, etc. and seen the progression over the years from who and where I was and how I picked myself up; how I came back from it and how I finally conquered every single bit of it; which you saw still just a small amount of here on these message boards. IF you had seen My full progress from 14 years ago to now, all of it; as I weaved myself into nature itself; you would see a path to infinity that has been massively tampered with, attempted to be erased and swallowed, and survived.

My path through life is pre-ordained and my own free will. I fight to retain my humanity and my self and am respected for it. By everything. It just doesn't know it, yet.
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Tue Dec 01, 2015 7:20 pm

There's a world on the other side of the mind
just like the one that's in front of the eyes
filled with things you can not see
but sense, feel, hear; they tamper with reality
hellbound; through the ground
their only agenda is to destroy
enemies of our enemies; still enemies that crowd
as they stifle, decay, decompose; cloy
clutter the life that should be free
making us suffer endlessly the indignity
to directly toy with and mess with you and me
all they have to do is join us
enjoy life; brush off the dust
and actually try
but they don't care; don't wonder why
twisted; they think themselves forsaken
perceived sleights from God to them
which 'justifies' their hellish existence
seeking an ultimate goal of destruction for foolish ends
but, just the same, there's a growing resistance
among them; open rebellion
contestation and competition
for ultimate ruler of the omnireality
they fight against the lord of all creation
bound to lose; bound to bruise
the egos they held strong tend to crumble
they're fragile
petty and vindictive
shadowy remnants
of a time before time
where there was no law; no crime
before the light of truth reached
through to their very core and breached
their inner defenses
criminal offenses
killing and murdering universes before their time
tempting whatever creator was there to backhand them
like a simple clownish pantomime
of twisted children of the pre-atom
fighting a vengeful father, demanding freedom from consequences
from before the first encoded blueprint that safeguarded creation
from before the first game that twisted and corrupted
the garden was truly wild and untamed
before the first seed of kindness came
and rubbed them all the wrong way
now they come for us and ours
world-eaters; power-hungry and greedy
only to be trapped by the master of time and space
at the very height of his power; on his best day
and at the epicenter of the vortex
of the eye of the storm at its climax
is just a single man holding it all at bay
stuck in a choke-hold stale-mate
as his reality wakes up to 'forbidden knowledge'
and true love is struck dead and cold
in the darkness of the mind, only to be revived
they fight supreme; warriors and Gods from countless realms
all of them similar to an extent; equal in their cause and might
standing side by side, ringing the bells
tearing apart the darkness with love as it builds
aided by the man in the middle
the God of Balance who asks you to answer this riddle:
what is blind, but still sees
what is deaf, but still hears
what is dumb, yet still speaks
and what is lame, but still stands strong
Only the downtrodden and the weak
get up again and again and again
only them; only the meek.
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Thu Dec 03, 2015 7:29 pm

They called me ice-veins
those that walked with me through the freezing
feet sore; legs aching
night-fallen, dawn so slow in breaking
walk enough to warm up
just to lay down and rest
long enough to have to get up and warm up again
fighting with the enemies of the mind for added warmth
distraction; soldiering through the pain

I let the cold in
and stopped shivering
let it fill and invade my core
and make my bones cold
turn my blood to slush
as I made it pump through my veins
through my heart; through my brain

hot thoughts turned cold and slowed
cold thoughts warmed and sped up
I became something new; shifted mode
with ice in the blood and my body cold
until the suns' rays, inward, stole
and warmed, again, my tired bones

They called me 'ice-veins'.

Where do the tragic stories end
and the dawning beauties begin
where; how; when?
when all we can do is keep on going
keep on hoping
that, through the failures, we can win

I wrestled and fought with demons
and with twisted angelic remnants
and in the darkness of their hollow bastion
I reigned supreme; brought them to their knees
and tore them down
burned them to ashes
returned them to the ground
fertilizer for the next harvest

fruits are we
and, by fruits, deceived
fresh, but filled with the worms of the enemy
as they do so wantonly feed
the weak are meat
and the strong do eat
but, which are we?

Turn the page
change the chapter
let loose the rage
follow-up with laughter
back to the beginning
when we began to learn
world fastly spinning
our funereal pyre as we stand and burn

Death promises soft, sweet release
freedom; relief
but promises of such are made in vain
pretense and idle conjecture; a stain
for, what Heaven was or is there that could exist
that we have failed to build through all the risk
through Hell; back out of and then back again
as it twists; twirls; does love to put spin
on its' own thumb as it plans attack
like a self-made jackass
through torture and torment
of women, men and children
strips them of their innocence
and leaves them raped & broken
...things that need to be fixed

what is beyond repair to the Lord
to God itself on the throne; never bored
What is beyond redemption
beyond saving, save that which refuses to repent
refuses to adapt and change to the moment
and like a thief the Lord must enter
like lightning he must strike and burn to a cinder
only to give fresh life
re-ignite the light
as so many try to rise above the strife

Once, I rose above the noise and confusion
just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
before going back down and into it
down again into the chaotic pits
to give full vent and true testament
to the will of God and all good men and women
the last of a dying breed
wasteland warrior wanderer, that's me
no longer truly tormented
in my wake, simple righteous retribution
I will not relent
onward; forward; unto the very end.
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Tue Dec 29, 2015 8:03 pm


Where do the tragic stories end
and the dawning beauties begin
where; how; when?
All we can do is keep on going
keep on hoping
that, through the failures, we can win

I wrestled and fought with demons
with twisted angelic fragments and remnants
and in the darkness of their hollow bastion
I reigned supreme and brought them to their knees
burned them to ashes; dust to dust
returned them to nature; broke their schemes
fertilizer for the next harvest

Fruits are we
and, by fruits, deceived
fresh, but with the worms of our enemies
as they do so wantonly feed
the weak are meat
and the strong do eat
but... which are we?

Turn the page
change the chapter
let loose the rage
follow up with laughter
back to the beginning
Where we began to learn
World fastly spinning:
our funereal pyre on which we burn

Death promises sweet release
freedom and relief
but promises of such are oft made in vain
pretense and idle conjecture; a stain
for, what Heaven is there that could exist
that we haven't failed to build through all of the risk

Through Hell and back out of it, then back again
as it twists, twirls, does love to spin
on its own thumb as it plans attack
like a self-made jackass
through torture; torment
of women, men and children
strips them of their innocence
leaves them raped and broken
things that need to be fixed

What is beyond repair to the Lord
To God itself on its throne, never bored
What is beyond redemption
beyond saving; save that which refuses to repent
refuses to change and adapt to the moment
like a thief the Lord must enter
His own creation; His own house; to be the flint and tinder
for the lightning He must strike like
as He burns so much to a cinder
only to give fresh purpose and life
reignites the light
of so many trying to rise above the strife

Once or twice I rose above the noise and confusion
just to get a glimpse beyond the illusions
before going back down into them
down again into those chaotic pits
to give full vent and true testament
to the will of God and all good men, women and children
I am the last of a dying breed
wasteland warrior wanderer, that's me
the Vagrant King
no longer truly tormented
in my wake is spread righteous retribution
I will not relent
onward; forward; unto the very end


I wanted to write a song for so many people
who have touched my heart & soul; too many for even all of the steeples
I never faced the addictions that they faced
Yet I know where they've been all the same
looking dismal gloom and darkened days in the eyes
something I'm sure we all could relate to if we tried and were able to recognize
the common trends and how the stories end
mine was depression and insecurity
and there I could stay for days, months, weeks
plagued by insanity and hating every minute
but being too weak to rise above it
so I just kept going until I started to break free
until these blind three eyes began to really see
the world as it existed all round
and I feel to my feet metaphorically on metaphorical ground
saw it whirl and twirl and come back
in fractured patterns for my mind to unscramble and unpack
what can I say of the years I avoided certain drugs
the years I spent trying to avoid the pitfalls of life as it bugs
except that something lead me through all of it
a multitude of voices in the darkness as they watched me plummet
and bounce back up this bungee of frayed rope
tied-together string ends barely supporting and straining from the load
each one warning not to follow their path; to be different
and some part of me much have listened
Stayed away from all of the fractals that might have stopped
me from being me; taking my message and rising to the top
of so much bullshit that rips the ground from under
so many lives only for them to become the runner
in the middle, whose sole purpose is to pass the baton
on to the next runner to hopefully win the marathon
endurance race; stamina; good vs. evil or so goes the saga
all of it becoming stunning illusion; a mirage of
true life and true living
what rest below, forgotten yet stirring
rising and spinning; dancing and dying
but still alive and hungry; thirsting
for some semblance of hope and faith in their combined, twisted insanity
expanding and attempting to cover the sum and whole of humanity
and failing splendidly; people waking and surviving and 'knowing'
far too much as they seek reconciliation and possibly succeed
as they plot the future freedom and utopia with their present seeding
in this savage garden over-run with hate feasting
love being the end; peace the beginning; living in a tattered and bruised reality
as our hearts remain beating; lungs remain breathing
constantly and incessantly; triumphantly
overcoming the difficulties of destitute and savage mockeries
as they seek to misconstrue and drag out of context
the years spent seeking to rise above the prostitution and forced sex
the rape of the spirit, mind and body to experience true truth in and of the sublime
that's waiting just within reach upon the other side
of the Hellish warzone that has become of space and time and of the mind
together we march on toward infinity
together through so much societal disharmony
together we rise up to overcome or fall down on the run
together we live forever or die young
and apart, we just dies, slowly but surely
one way or another; checks and balances fairly
interacting under fairly unfair circumstances set in place
by each other; by too many other parts of the human race
making it harder/easier; some times worth the pain
and yet some never make it for the stain that has covered the brain
people obsessed with darkened moments
only to someday rise and come out of them
often wonder about who and what they've been
suffering questions of why they did what they did
if they don't die first, and that's the trick
why some live on while others die
yet we all die in the end to which so many wonder why
though we have done far too little to actually deserve immortal life
we may never completely rise above the hurt and the strife
but we'll never know for sure if we never try
so, my life, while I'd rather live; I'd gladly die
if I thought such difference could be made upon this world by my death
as I fight this fight of fights through to the finish or unto my last breath
this multitude of voices and energies that inspire my lows and my highs
that, in some way, I am expected to keep them all alive and properly categorized
to which I some times roll my eyes
I love them all; see them for they are and could be
love it all; my life; all life; all of reality
and I extend my hand to whomever may join me
freely and openly
Peace, Love and Harmony
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Wed Dec 30, 2015 7:54 pm

Let no one say that I'm not determined to try
but, it's the trying; how I choose to live my life
by the book; by a code of honor; overcoming darkened thoughts
that have become prominent in the world as honor is tossed
out the window & treated as a childish past-time
something to smile knowingly about as the 'kids' 'play-fight'

somehow the world has centered on greed
and so nobility has been brought to its knees
it's not appropriate; not good business
what use is it if they can't sell it
and turn a profit
all the adults begin to look like children

Lost in a savage garden they thought they'd conquered
as nature delivers ultimatum; it's mind over matter
good wisdom and good sense tossed aside
in favor of the mental institutions of the mind
as we live our lives
as we're broken down inside

made to live lies
made to despise
righteousness and justice
firm-handed discipline
hate each other, tear apart
what grows profoundly from the heart

Miles disappear beneath my feet
as aches and pains become obsolete
my feet harden; toughen
as my shoulders strengthen
beneath the load upon them
as I question and as I listen

The world has a story to be told
of bygone days we never watched unfold
we loved our stories of heroes and villains
though we never understood what it meant to be them
how hard the journey; the wear and tear on the body
of men and women made limitless just by trying

Never have I been more free
Never have I been more me
and as I pass through towns and cities
I pick up others emotions through empathy
can tell the vibe of a place almost instantly
nature-woven as I find my destiny

Politicians and world leaders are a joke
and businessmen and women can just choke
on their own bullshit as our economy fails
and cops; lawyers; judges all have gone stale
as medicine takes full-advantage of hypochondriacs
as our governments prepare for their next false-flag attacks

Kept blind to fill anothers agenda
citizens; countrymen; religious believers
as the world becomes more insidious
mankind just becomes more hideous
and we're just supposed to accept it
suck it up and watch it happen

All I ever wanted was a wife and kids
and the means; job; to support them
now I'm caught up in something greater
might not get what I want, but I'm no hater
that's self-sacrifice for a larger goal
as I dig my own grave; a deeper hole

Burn me with fire when I die
incinerate my blood and bones to ashes and let'em fly
There will be no preservatives to touch my body
like the heathen Kings of old, I will be free
to return to nature and be recycled & reborn
hopefully to a better place and time with all that I've learned
and maybe some day; in some way; I'll find her there
in a world of peace be right beside her
and we'll still be able to have each other

I am made stronger through trial and tribulation
bolstered and grown steadily through universal revelation
wisdom, sense and understanding bid me to be a simple man
while I bend my mind to the complex to see it broken
wisdom states that a wise man should not claim his own wisdom
but what wisdom is that if the right has been earned to wear it?

cold winds chill my bones
as within them, I warm and make my home
the sun makes nice the further south I go
while it's there, makes the breezes better as they flow
through invisible currents; air-born torrents
that the birds ride as I walk on down the road

My feet some times hurt and feel fracture
feel stiff and hard to move at first
until they loosen up and I feel more than stoic
as I push through the pain; Spartan; stotan
miles fall beneath my feet as they toughen
shoes falling apart slowly; gracefully; as my calves and thighs strengthen

Shoulder bearing the load of my pack
as the weight grows, but no longer breaks my back
as I get into the zone, the weight is non-issue
only so much pressure as I build-up muscular tissue
but, most therapeutic by far and thus far
are the acts of kindness from random strangers

Money here, good company there
party favors as I travel and compare
one place and time with another
without which I would surely falter
fall down and break
succumb to bodily; mental; spiritual pains and aches

I am refined time and again
processed by nature; restored often
as I travel; journey; and do my quiet work
not shy; just silent and reserved
making few friends and zero enemies
as I pass through on my path to inner peace
mirrored outwardly

Not yet have I starved or truly gone hungry
not yet have I thirsted too greatly
all my needs met and balanced
slowly, as I learn to get up and dance
beautifully and gracefully
and some times still awkwardly
as people try to make fun of me

When 'they' tell you it's all in your head, you should listen
but keep in mind that it's Hella realistic
just a little too much so at times for comfort
and nature's truth supplies a slow, controlled burn
for those who refuse and deny it
With salve only issued for those who learn from it
enough to right themselves and stand up to it
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Wed Dec 30, 2015 9:51 pm

I don't know what to call this that I'm feeling
a word just came to mind in answer to that thought: a deepening
I feel 'more' than I used to; just 'more'
in that vague sense that all of me now is 'more'
more me; more deep; more rich; more whole
from toe-tip to top of head, from heart in metaphor to literal spirit and soul

Never in any part of my life prior to these moments
did I ever imagine I'd be on a journey like this
my life gone from petty torment to heightened enlightenment
from molehills made mountains to mountains made molehills; epic proportions
as I sit on the side of a road in sunny California on planet Earth
that is just a tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny, miniscule blip to the overall universe

on the scale of all of creation, Earth barely even registers
both on a sense of time and a sense of alternate realities, when considered
and me even less so, in a huge beyond comprehension existence
probably register none at all and my problems rather petty-seeming in comparison
these thoughts just blow me away with how big they are
but I'm dauntless, hard to shrink and can handle the size of them

I've seen nightmares of realities and universes unraveling
dissolving upon themselves, not strong enough to be lasting
have seen vivid visions of realities with different laws and rules
and nightmares of realities with people far more twisted and abused
horribly demented, horribly fucked up, as I see myself killed first in one or two to a multitude
and then destroyed in my psyche and spirit; broken beyond broke and pleasures few

I've taken comets and asteroids to my head; thrown bodily
taken bullets to the brain only to get back up; can't stop me
have traveled to other realities and back only to watch a reality split
as, in one from another, we watch our alternate selves fight to the death, twisted by madness
only for me to say, 'some times this happens'
when dealing with alternate realities and universes

I've seen a vision of the body of Christ in a desert
after it disappeared from it's cave-like tomb, his followers presumed Heavenward
eyeballs gouged out and blood streaming down
like tears, still wearing that God-Damned thorny crown
hunched and bunched for the carrion birds to pick apart
is what I've seen them do to the man with the biggest heart

As the nights get colder
my journey quieter
I don't complain, I just deal with it
travel miles out of my way only to have to turn back, fuck it
I just take it in stride
until I die, I'm still alive

I have killed Gods and heralded the end of countless realities
that, while close in mimicry to this one, were mere pale mockeries
and I have helped out countless entities as they stumbled through insanity
only to be unable to help those closest to me
my own friends and family; my own living nightmare turned into my waking reality
as they wish they could help me better fit into our modern society

for all of the horrors that I've seen
I've seen very little actual good
and it makes me more appreciative of the good I see
better able to cope with my own problems as I go
my problems are the worlds problems and vice versa
yet I cannot seem to help the world, either

But I am an eternal optimist; the realest realist
so I try anyway, just in case I can make a difference
lift up my head and smile anyway
because of the people and things that've been through worse than me
and it's lucky that this coincides with what and who I've chosen to be
otherwise, then, my life would truly be the perfect tragedy
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby wtf » Thu Dec 31, 2015 12:23 am

idioticidioms wrote:Where free-thinking still has not made it's way into each and every citizen

Its. "It's" is a contraction for "it is." The word you want there is "its." Let no one doubt my commitment to pickiness. I offer you a cartoon that represents my personal outlook on life.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Thu Dec 31, 2015 8:30 pm

wtf wrote:
idioticidioms wrote:Where free-thinking still has not made it's way into each and every citizen

Its. "It's" is a contraction for "it is." The word you want there is "its." Let no one doubt my commitment to pickiness. I offer you a cartoon that represents my personal outlook on life.

You're not the first to notice my addiction to using apostrophes in 'its' and I doubt you'll be the last. I do know better, I was one of the best students in my English classes in high school and could proofread my own papers better than my teachers.

I find that I really don't give a shit about the petty shit such as that. It doesn't really make a difference.

Also, you only nitpick and find that enjoyable because you lack the testicular fortitude to actually do something to make life better for yourself in a much better fashion. You lack the balls to actually call people on their shit with precision.

I've got quite a few outlooks on life, one of them is, 'don't start what you can't finish,' another is, 'don't dish out what you can't take,' and finally, 'if you're going to run your mouth, expect to get hit for it.'
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Wed Feb 03, 2016 7:34 pm

There's not much more that can be said
in rhyming form with wit in head
that hasn't been said a thousand times before
people suffering, dying; quietly; loudly
insanity swarming the minds of people thinking deeply
finding multiple ways to compensate
only to dim their minds, become the seeming idiot
voices speaking to voices; voices destroying our wills
and what of freedom, physical or mental
who is to free us from the tyranny inherent
the will of men to dominate each other through thoughts incoherent
no reason to drive their wills
and is that not what we find our selves enslaved to
in this day and age, a lack of will; we're destitute
A lack of will to drive our freedom-driven desires
as we chase our inner impulses; that which lights the inner fire
puts heat to our bones and to our minds to drive out
the thoughts that fill us both with reason and with doubt
What is there that could be said, of freedom
of the enslavement we put our selves through unwillingly
when the act of being willing slaves to the concepts that arise
might see us through the darkest days and nights
said it a thousand times before in a thousand different ways
and they said to free your mind instead of hating the institution
yet the institution was devised by the mind, is pushed forth by the mind
even those who fight against it must eventually fall in toward it
they play a game of will against will, survival of the fittest
and this is just another way of doing the same thing
passively aggressive; aggressively passive; all to push forth a goal
that is insidious in its nature; to set a pace in a modern age impossible to keep up with
I will make the ultimate sacrifice; for a kingdom I might never see
for a dominancy that may not be mine and I don't mind
And if I were to succeed, it all would surely fail without immortal life
my kingdom come and only just begun as my body dies
and leaves behind a world that others would never be able to raise high
for failing to find the pace that I kept, the promise I made to the bereft
and to what extent of freedom given would enslavement be found inherent again
vice versa, switch it around, to what amount of enslavement could freedom be found within?
Did ancient philosophers struggle with these concepts?
what of King Solomon the wise who must have struggled with his own set of lies?
for lies are such the like that cause truth to catch the cheats up and cut them down to size
Instinct fighting reason; reason fighting instinct; all just to dominate others and this is my end?
I refuse it, I refuse the reason that spawns such illicit concepts
but for change to occur, dominance must secure
to which end our freedoms must be erased and written anew
and that might just be where the story began; begins; or where it grew
but it's happened before a thousand times; a multitude
and to which is the better, reason or simple carnal instinct-driven
when history a thousandfold has shown how it has chosen
how each reason-driven man has fallen to the same temptations
and what of those temptations and where they spawn from
that such a devil does live and breathe inside of us
waiting until our greatest moments to tear us asunder
reaching into our minds to distract and confuse; confound and madden with pleasure or torture
What of God and God's will, God's dominance; this concept of God that is within us
born from our consciousness, as we were made in his image within again
the same within as the devil may be found and made its home
to which they fight a constant fight forever together for dominance
or so the story goes as they pat each other on the back and pick their champions
in a war of the spirit that spawns imagination; is called imagination
and yet happens so vibrantly to so many of us; perhaps once was common knowledge
but for repressions sake, such becomes lost to vague conceptualizations of
fear-driven modern citizens in a world of pop culture and magic turned into science
And here we sit again in a claimed world of reason
where instinct again drives us against 'better' sense
To which I lament and strike down all that would beg for me to listen
to false reason; even my own self I must destroy in the process
and which philosopher has said these things before I came?
Plato? Aristotle? Socrates? Confucius? Nietzsche? Which?
Out of math and science and greater learning did these men rise
with history guiding, compelling them to shape their minds
in the greatest colleges the world could provide
and so their philosophies became shaped with the worlds best knowledge
as given to them by men and what of their end when they did lament
in each their own way, the death of hope inside of them
for hoping to see such wonderful changes in their own worlds, in their own lives
in secret hoping for their wisdom to catapult them into a position of power
while their very essence did power deny for the sake of spite toward the battle inside
Each of them hoping both that they can bring about something new
and that someone else will come along to show them how
nevermind the seeming contradiction of such, the mind is not a place for 'reason'
especially when the blood covers our minds and boils and burns
causing us to have to relearn with quickness all that we learned before
or be caught up in some 'insanity' that tears us apart and may place us too far
from the very things we sought to reach for
and against this paradox of freedom and enslavement
men have railed and fought throughout the ages
how can you have both if one can not be had without the other
and what is freedom; what is enslavement; when people differ more from each other
than man from animal in their misguided societal ventures
And what of the day when people refuse to rebel AND refuse to be mislead
and they call their leaders to clean up their own messes
force them to fix what they destroyed when, with their riches, they try to escape
when murder and death no longer fixes and people are entrenched in their jobs and family lives
to the point where killing and death are no longer considered wise
and this enslavement to the idea of freedom has been largely accepted
Wouldn't that be rich? to watch world leaders give up and take it all from us
only to be rounded up and instead of brought to some form of justice
forced to continue being our leaders and made to clean up their messes
as they seek to refuse the responsibilities given and run further away from our 'misguided' concepts
of what life should be, driven by societies long, greed-driven struggles to this age of reason
What more can be said? What more can be done? Even when pushed to the limit by other men around them
people still refuse to take a stand, and it's not that they lack the will or are too chicken
but because they're tired of this battle of stupidity inside of them
where the reason of one day conflicts with the reason of another
and for situational ethics and circumstantial differences are labeled
hypocritical or inconsistent, or have their entire careers shredded in front of them
by hateful and jealous men and women
again that fight within us all; of devil and God the madman
And to what point should I label myself as better just because, of this, I'm able to be cognizant?
Even ancient warlords learned the hard way, that you can not all the time be vigilant
and the blade that kills often comes in the back or side from trusted advisors or friends
in broad daylight, not often in the middle of the night; even assassins have lives
Against common sense and sanity I have staked my claim
against the will of even immortal vestiges, I have pitted my wit and my will
and to what extent of self-flattery do I state such a thing
when my mind becomes a center of attack from pleasure to pain
and believe me when I say that pleasure is an attack, some times more than pain
what I am and what I claim to be is just insane
but genius coincides with it and I claim that, too
and wisdom is surely mine and so is reason
but so must the inverse and reverse be mine, too
And when such a battle of dominance comes to an end
will I be all alone again, or surrounded by new friends?
Or will I be in the ground, buried; dead.
Even small-timers bid for dominance
thieves and con artists of ghettoes and slums
sue each other for dominance to pursue their causes and their skills
predatory figures that we label as thugs with guns, or trash, or bums
meanwhile this battle inside softly, harshly, insidiously kills
one by one as nature sweeps us under the rug
using our energy to keep alive a constant state of disharmonic reality
to aid and abet the greatest energy farm for immaterial objects
to which we are bred like cattle for the slaughter
all the while they love us, yet hate us, and are filled with disjointed laughter
'they' being they, the people all around us and the voices we may or may not hear
the madnesses we may or may not endure; the lives we live in sadness and disarray
while perfection is out of reach and life is made to keep our desires away
to make us go out and fight each other in some sort of hunger game style
of fight to the death; which death do we choose; or not play at all and die all the same
and, again, how many times has this been said before, in how many ways?
At what point are we lead to say and state with clear minds: fuck this world and fuck this thinking
Fuck these peons and rich folk alike and fuck this world filled with strife; but that's a lot of fucking
for which our minds are pre-disposed toward along with our cocks and cunts
to fill and be filled with thoughts of fucking for fuckings sake; we don't give a fuck
and against such rape of physicality and mentality, how do we compensate
if such rape is allowed to occur and we are made to fight on our own against superior numbers
to which so many become indoctrinated and learn to enjoy it
or to turn away from fucking entirely even when they might enjoy
just based in the trauma that was induced, sent their way
All the while people go out and do what they do
avoiding thoughts of deeper recesses of the mind
and avoiding that abyss to which they state do not look upon or within
while others still run straight into it
And all of this again coincides with thoughts of freedom and enslavement
for which we fight and are denied time and again by the very essense of reality around
as it swirls and twirls and forces us down upon our knees, lined up along the ground
like so many sex-slaves with open minds like open legs ready for the intense serious ass-fucking that commences
when Gods and devils no longer need physical representatives to kill or be killed
and can drive us insane or to further heights of pleasure and pain
with just so little as an infusion of confusion through simple inducement of the chemicals of our brains
But who is to talk openly about such things; who can do so and not be concluded to be insane?
and therein I stake my claim again and again and to which I find myself combatting invisible combatants
and against my reality who can claim that their reality is stronger and more convincing
who among the mortal rabble could rationally speak against such without reducing themselves to insults and slander
for fear of having such thoughts and voices invite themselves within their minds
either for the first time, like a virgin, or again after having properly put fear into the hearts of such men
and here I am again saying, what more can be said?
To which I have just given another poem of things that can be said
and yet it remains just variations of what has already been said countless times in countless ways since the dawn of our kind
and perhaps since before even that, in other spaces and places within spaces throughout space itself and outside of time
who are we, what have we become, where did we come from and where do we go?
When does this all end, when did it begin; where and how and why and what
and you know what? I don't give a fuck, being so swept up in the mounting pressure of
this modern age of fools and foolish ones who tried so hard to rise up and failed to keep people like me down
to which I must stake a claim to being the biggest beast
but not that beast for which the bible claims must rise up
nein, there are worse beasts than me and my kind and worse beasts than me within my kind
And yet when the ball is dropped and it comes to a head, what worse beast could be found than me and mine?
Am I many or am I one, am I savior or legion rising up
to which such thoughts I must entertain, I must think of
and so I keep all parts of me alive against better sense and reason
to have this battle fight itself inside of me with a multitude of voices
with the mark of insanity as I pivot through reality; as I reach for some form of twisted immortality
and I tell them, I don't care if I live forever as long as my life helped make it all greater
I could die tomorrow if I could rest content with the fact that my lifes career changed this world into something we all could enjoy
Though I wouldn't be opposed to immortality or leadership and have said before that I was born to be king of this world
and such a claim I take seriously, such a thing I say with hopes for responsibility
but against such thoughts as I have experienced, how could I keep it up all the time as much as is needed by this so-called free world
of enslaved individuals too enslaved by complacency to solve their own problems
and thus round and round again I go in my own mind, how to be leader and grant freedom, too, for people to learn what I have learned
and how do you teach those who refuse to learn, who seemingly lie
yet all the while fit in with the rest of the crowd and whose actions show over time the pursuit of the same things
against their own minds will, they come to love all of life even as they say they do not care
I find that such savagery of the mind, when chased to the end of the line, becomes circular and never ends
it just goes and begins something newer, hoping for different results
and yet the only different result is to start something older while hoping for the same results, for then you may get something newer against your will
yet why should you do something older and hope for the same results unless you found an answer you thought had fit
and would you then embrace the change that comes or fight against it, causing such change to fight you back
and who becomes our enemies then, but our families and our friends as we fight each other on varying sides over something that we only perceived to be better or worse than what we had in place previously
for change is the essence of life and change must be had for when change is not had and people are forced to do something they know is wrong, are sick and bloody tired of
then what are they going to do, even against their own will, except work it out unknowingly through their subconscious actions and through their body language
so even as the world seeks to hold onto this seemingly nice and wonderful society and brotherhood of men, they speak against themselves
their words and actions work against their selfish intentions and our pop culture becomes what it becomes even when the artists don't consider the implications as much as their audiences
for all people would like all things if not for determining that they should not like it
and at the risk of not liking something, perhaps are choosing to dislike a necessary part of life
and at such a point as driving forth their own sense and reason may be cutting out a part of life entirely necessary to the essence of change
but why should life change so much and why should people not be content with peace if peace could be found?
For entertainments sake and our species becomes a bunch of spoiled children as much as they claim adulthood and are confused as adults
even against the wisdom and reason that states that all living and warm-blooded creatures are too young when compared to everything around them that they find cold and lifeless and claim not to be living
And until people seek to learn the wisdom of a tree or a rock or stream of water
and sit there for long years of their life, or an eternity within a second if that can be understood by even those who like to drag out of context and over-exaggerate their understanding
to make fun of such a concept they can understand full well if they gave it half a chance for half a second
would we ever make and take a step in the right direction
and of the mortals who learn from the cosmos and spend long years imagining the wisdom of a planet or a sun or a solar system
what kind of life could they expect to live alongside those who learned from shorter-lived organisms
and if we can concisely and constructively learn from so many longer-lived things within our own short-lived lives
how the Hell can we expect ourselves to know this perfectly or reconcile it within our selves
to which the battle must have begun once upon a time in such a manner as a mite of a mortal made a claim to such beings that such could be done
and finding strong the arrogance in the confidence of that unknowing mortal, so mankind was doomed to a battle of the spirit it has long been dominated by
so... you tell me what more can be said and which philosopher has said it and I might go back to learning from mortal men and women the answers that I give and have been given through various mental lessons
And this I say to push forth other men in abstract fashion as assuredly and knowingly I do learn from mortal men and women regardless and with intent
And when you can tell me where my spirit comes from and my strength of will; such a spirit and such a strength still being found within regardless of pain; strength only being found because it needed to be found and such strength would have been developed even without undue suffering
I might be able to help you to come to an understanding of what must be done within our own lives to secure such proper growth for future generations to find strength and spirit in much better ways than we have done and much better ways than past generations have done
without being twisted by insanity or some battle that has yet to come to completion; such various and seemingly contradictory phrases and places and faces
There is an answer, there has been an answer and it is the same answer repeated in infinity while all other answers fall flat
for against false reasoning we do rebel and against false leaders we do rise up and against falsities we are ever vigilant
against our own gullibility and naivety we become like militants and so I have learned that it is not against leaders that we rise
and it is not against reason that we rebel and it is not truth which we first learned to hate
but falsities which made us hate the truth for the sugary sweetness of such falsities and their ability to be granted to us easily over short periods of time while the truth dominates consistantly in the long term
It is not truth we truly hate, but the falsities that make us unable to relate, unable to rise above the hate and fall in to self-created fates
Against false reasoning and falsity we do rise up even as some claim to rise up against such while they fight against truth that states otherwise and label it as falsity
so they can hold onto some limited and short-term possible gain
to which is the answer that has slapped us all repeatedly in the face
and for the gullibility and naivety of our own youths, twisted and distorted and ripped from us in false loyalty
for having addictions fed, simple instincts driven and served up, we find our selves lacking true royalty
true leaders which would give us reason to love this life again, truth that would enable us to set aside even the sweetest lies and sentiments
for something we could ascertain and hold and keep close to us in eternity
something that, in the long term, we would not come to despise.
But, what more can be fucking said
to so many people who refuse to listen, refuse to actually be intelligent
and refuse to give proper discipline to their children for their children to respect them?
For who would respect anyone who speaks not from a ground already triumphed over
when that ground crumbles from beneath them and shows their 'truths', no matter how truthful, to be inconsistent
And don't you know that once someone has failed so horribly, that people will refuse to listen to them again until such impossible lengths are gone through for that person to reclaim respect from those who sneered?
And most would just give up and turn away and yet still they learn everyday how to reinforce their own lives in their own ways
for lack of true leadership and true leadership being waylaid by so many false organizations that breed greed and falsities around us
and drive people to disrespect their leaders and organizations that might make a difference
and causing those might-be-differences to be lost in a faulty system of legislative brilliance
for brilliance it must be even in its deviance, for forcing people to get jobs, to do things
or to be labeled as impossible to be taken seriously or with any grain of salt...
For don't you know if you speak against the system, the inevitable question comes up, 'do you have a job,' or 'why don't you get a job'
and 'how can you have the right to say anything at all when you don't even have a job.'
When having a job makes you a part of the problem in this day and age and becomes a way of shutting you up, making you dependant on a system of failures for sustenance
to which such a system is unable to continue providing as it grows quickly out of control of even those seeking momentary gains
for which I fear the same of any thing I create in and with my name
who will carry it on after I'm done, after I'm dead and gone
and isn't it immortality then that people wish for, that such short lives are incapable of providing the long-term shit needed
to actually secure a possible change in a world with so many people of varying skills and perspectives
and such is worse when you realize we shift leaders every 4 years, for how can there be any consistency at all in even one country, let alone the world
when you have such different people seeking to lead the country in their own ways with their own people and policies
and everything just ceases to be right
even if someone were to learn how to do things exactly like another, they would be doing it wrong
and therein lies another lie given to the mind, because if you just tried your best, who could fault or deny the fact that it was enough; it had to be enough to get people through
And it is the lack of trying for which I claim to be the cause and what we seek to change
and so many people give up instead of continuing to try
and for what do they try, to what ends do we try
so many people would cry and even decry correct reasoning to instill their falsities of the times
To which all philosophers have noted regardless of their stance of how to live life
of how brutal we should be, of how things should be done
and you know what? fuck them all, they're all fucking stupid when you get right down to it
for they carry forth a singular ideology, a singular way of doing things and for singular individuals it might work; hell, they might as well have shown how to handle themselves, did they not?
They think certain things of others that should be given, certain punishments that should be deriven and at such a point, are they tasting the flavors and pleasures of their own artistries?
I think therefore that each persons ideology be tested against themselves first to find how accurate it is and how well it works and to see how much they like it or want it in the long term before they're ever let to lead
and for those that such works against, let them be boss of those people
but be wary of the differences that state that such does not work for all
and all those who are discontent will find ways to work toward your premature end
in one form or another, lest they actually choose to make such poor leaders fix their own messes
if they can be trusted to do so without us holding their hands or would do honest and quality work even with us standing over them as overseers, their 'tyrants' that they despise
And to any person who does not consider even this when they have the luxury to do so, who is to state they are fit to be a leader
and if they can not defend themselves and do not inspire others to defend them or can only inspire with fear, then what leadership should they be given?
And yet so many uneducated and naive and gullible fools are loyal without cause to people they later on regret being loyal to when their backs are turned and such people find cause to stab knife within and encase it with salt in the wound as they spit in your face and run away, laughing, only to regret it themselves later on when they consider the depth of friendship they lost and that they then have to move on to find others to leech off
and over time, you begin to know their kind, it becomes so obvious in their actions and reactions regardless of what they learn
at least if you stick to truth and telling it even to your self, calling your self on it and not being afraid of it
for life will let you repress your self and truth of self if you wish to, will delight in confusing you
And so many people shy away from sharing their personal philosophy on life, their own personal insights
and that in itself people should be wary of, yet it's accepted so openly even while people endorse paranoia and talk behind each others backs
each person latching on to stronger people than them; people they perceive to be stronger than them and who among those people actually helps those people to be stronger themselves instead of letting their 'people' be so dependent on them?
And if you show them the truth of those people, do they not rally to their wannabe leaders while hating you for being stronger?
And if you show them the truth of your self, do they not hate you for being so weak, disrespect you in private if not openly, look at you as lesser than them in some way or another for having a moment of weakness where you had to rely on them instead
and what is that but the equality we fucking strive for; in front of our faces the whole god damn time
no one man set in stone to be the worlds leader, but all men and women relying on all other men and women
in turn and when need be, and not judging each other for weaknesses or strengths
insofar as we are all moving forward together and things are getting better
less people thieving, less people stealing and conniving; lying and denying
less people killing for there being less reason to kill, less drive and desire
less evils in men to drive us forward into black and darkened fires
that do little to light people up with power the way that some are that would avidly seek to avoid abusing that power
Who among the great philosophers has found a proper answer to this problem, has given adamant reasons to pursue such courses
and what world leader through dominating power-struggles has actually acutely and accurately described and fixed the problem
Which among the worlds current philosophers, teachers, doctors, etc. has actually summed up these thoughts in their professions or given rise to new research and development that is not simple repeats of thoughts long past
and which among those people could further even these thoughts into concrete forms of treatment for the 'insane' when they rely mostly on pills that do little to help people actually learn to deal with a part of life
and who among those people could find better answers by risking such darkness and insanity in spite of 'cultured' and 'accepted' methods and who would risk it at all when doing so could mean the very livelihood that their families rely on?
Circles in circles around circles of thinking that have actual answers to them if people were to actually think these thoughts and come back to them when the darkness recedes
But for fear such wisdom wanes, false reason reigns and rains down pain upon our shoulder blades as we know of perfection but refuse to reach for it; know of better realities, but are unwilling to be burnt upon it.
And what more could be said of such by the rest of the world, where are the modern philosophers and leaders of men with fires in their guts and in their eyes
who refuse to stay down, refuse to give up the fight they fight
and what do they have to say and add to this rambling bit of wit that fails to actually solve the problem and was not designed to
for even christianity and catholocism have set their own downfalls, waiting for a singular man to fix all their problems for them while they go out and recruit people like mercenaries to do their religions work
And what do those priests have to say against this uncommercialized version of faith, this bit of reality and truth in a world wholly marketed for our consumption all while people make money they will never spend to keep consumption and hunger high to push people into a future they didn't need to be pushed into
Where are those who have something different to say about society than to sing its praises, or give rise to some new philosopher or holy man, who having sold their works to the commercialized world do hypocrisize and do undermine their own faith
and do espouse others to do the same, in their own way, to live their own lives of their own lies within their own conceived fame as only those who seek to hear and read those things do and only a set few of those can understand fully
and the problem lays in the fact that that's what they settle on, for lacking the bile in their gut rising to their mouth to spit out in distaste to actually push beyond and do what needs to be done
and they have their place in society while countless people do not; other groups are started and lost
and of a successful group in a corrupted world, what can you state of such a group except that it has done what it has needed to do to stay alive and thus undermined itself even if it preaches one thing, for it does not practice what it preaches and espouses hypocrites of hypocrites
as blind men and women lead blind men and women and teach blindly to blind children who see all too clearly before accepting blindness for what it means
Where is the clergyman who can adequately represent their faith without religious fervor and with truth and honesty in their eyes instead of the same tired lines for fear of having originality be tinged with the same corruptability that is already inherent in it all
Because I haven't seen a single one of these men and women; a single one of these people who can adequately represent their ideals and beliefs and ideologies
Not a single one holds anything more than a small candles flame in a whirlwind of epic proportion as the flame peters out and they claim a great blaze has been lit where coldness subsists at the heart of their organizations and feeds off whatever warmth and energy arises from within, leaving others cold and lonely at the core of them
and What more can be fucking said
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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The Eternal Warrior
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby The Eternal Warrior » Wed Feb 03, 2016 7:39 pm

There's a million words inside of me
that I wish could be said
A thousand ways that I could act
that I wish would be accepted
Lies in the heart of me
Secrets on the door
never what I wanted to be
does that make me a whore?
Never free, never me
never the name people call me
never the face that they see
never the voice that they hear
it's never been so clear
Mistakes made in life
Head held high through so much strife
and who I am is so much more
than what others give me credit for
but what they see is never me
what they hear is never clear
and what name they give
can never be the one that lives
face turning into so much empty space
up for rent; gone and spent
Who I was never meant to be who I will be
And where I'm going only testament
to the will of men to rise up and keep going
caught in an undertow of a rising tide
surfing the waves of the storms of life
never for my sake did I rise
never for my sake will I die
and tomorrow may see the sun denied
but I'll learn to dance in the dark
and laugh in the face of fear
sing in the rain, just for a lark
and let myself really hear
the sounds of nature beating like a drum
a thumpa-thump-a-thumpa-thump-a-thum
As the universe unfolds within my minds eye
pleasing and satisfying; more than life
there is a peace of mind for the long fight
and success is earned; not a given right.
Freedom, too; nothing is free
sweat, tears, blood; they claim it a disease
then they turn around and make themselves weak
beat themselves, make themselves lose
and blame everyone else, so they choose
to write their own prophecies by their own hands
choosing their destinies through perception of grains of sand
in an hourglass
and isn't that a fact
watch it tumble and fall through the narrow channel
and see it funnel and spiral
counting out the seconds of a world that never existed
never subsisted; just sat there and listed
tilted and fell on its side for lack of balance
as the people of the world scrambled to find it
fighting themselves over the same ideals viewed from different perspectives
becoming so much insanity in the sands of time
as they never listen; never see; never feel
and claim that they do; never understand what's real
Never the ones to rise above; they do, but then fall into new traps
soul traps, ego traps, grandeur and greatness, fame and fortune
and they come to love those lies as much as the prison they rose above
to become enslaved to that new prison, based in a mockery of love
Never able to hold up or lift up as much as truth ever could
nor long-lasting as much as true love would
if given even half a chance by those who give up way too soon
stop trying, they turn around and go the other route
and isn't it sad; isn't it tragic
when people just stop trying and give up caring
turn their backs to the problems of the world
To carve their own living, make it spin and twirl
like a self-made jackass sitting on his own finger
sitting and spinning and looking ever so pretty
for all the pieces of himself he lost; compensating with vanity
Never us; never free; never our faces
Never our names and never our voices
Never who we are inside; never who we want to be
well, come and follow me; come and follow me
we'll give the nameless names; the faceless give faces
We'll trek the unknown in search of great adventure
and fight the world together
let no one be left behind
let no one be lost and crying; heartbroken and dying
on the inside; let's march on to eternity
Slenderman can invoke memory loss in all but the most resolute - you could have already had a Slenderman encounter and not remember it.
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