From the Deadjournal

Here is some crap from another blog I have, shifted to Blogger since it's a better system anyhow.

Ruminations on Life:
Sometimes I don't feel comfortable in my own skin. Sometimes reality makes me queasy and shaky. I realize that we know little to nothing about everything, and it bothers me. I contemplate the human condition, I contemplate the history of existence. I curse the world, and coddle it in the same breath. Expansive realms have yet to be explored, yet it seems that humanity is only shrinking its own growth. We seem more and more to focus on the mundane, the trivial, when we should aim high and strive to be majestic. After all, what other goals are there to strive for? Why do we put ceilings on ourselves, bind ourselves with limitations induced only by our own minds? Existence is not meant for a limited and narrow frame, it's meant to be as expansive as is possible. We trifle ourselves with petty things such as land and natural resources when we could be concentrating on the higher and greater good. Humanity is the only thing that can take care of itself, for nothing else has the capacity or sympathy towards the race to help it. Sometimes religion is to be contemplated as well. I've heard it called many things, but cult-like seems to be most accurate. I've questioned the reasoning behind it and feel it holds no water. Why must we trust in a shapeless and nameless being to guide us and tell us what to do? Why can a person not choose their own destiny? What is the purpose of believing in this deity anyways? The only end goal in sight is the promise of a glorious afterlife, but what about the life at the moment? Why is religion so fixated on the glory of life after death, and not on life itself? We should be free to live how we wish, not bound by some archaic fables. Religion hinders progress in a bad way sometimes. For all its faults, however, it does produce some good does come of it. For instance, it helps people become good, it shows them the feeling of being nice to others and supporting their fellow man. For these purposes alone, religion is worth keeping around. Unfortunately, people are all too willing to die for these ficitional characters and end up causing great harm to their fellow man. It is ridiculous, and if these deities were really so great, they would frown upon mankind's actions and put a stop to all the senseless fighting. The negative aspect of religion is its scare factor. But anyways, there are other avenues to explore. Relationships have always scared me in a way. I believe it's because relationships are the building blocks of existence itself, they are the keys to creating any kind of matter. They are significant in the most primordial of ways, and reality would be nil if they were not in place. Human to human relationships may be just as important as the atomic bonds that form water, in ways we have yet to realize. Life is a beautiful thing, but what is the alternative? Can you really experience death? Decay is inevitable, but even throughout decay, life flourishes, so what is true death? There are ways to experience life in a new light as well, and sometimes we just need to find those ways to gain a whole new outlook. Free yourself, don't be strapped down, unburden yourself, and walk a mile in silence. Lose yourself in a beautiful dream, for if there were a purpose to sleep, it would be to escape to a different and ideal realm from time to time. Focus on the sky, watch the horizon, do not default to looking at things the same way that everyone else does. Find the light.

Attempt at Fiction:
During my cryostasis, there was but one recurring and constant thought, the synergy between good and evil. The fact that one could not survive without the other haunted my frozen sleep for what seemed an eternity. It made me ponder my life up to this point, made me think about what I had done and would continue to do in the upcoming years. During my lifetime, before becoming locked in this vessel, I was a mercenary for hire. I killed for cash. I was cold blooded, never thinking about my actions, never looking back. I was bold and reckless. And I was soon to be reborn.
As I came to, a rush of wind and a bellow of steam assaulted my senses. I was aware and alert, and greeted reality with a stern smirk. I groggily opened my eyes, and attempted to scope the perimeter. That was met with an immediate obstacle, the brace around my neck. I tried to yell angrily, but what emerged was largely unintelligible, so I gave up on that approach. I decided it would be best to wait, after all, I noticed many coated lab technicians darting to and fro like errant white mice. A rather plump one of their numbers sauntered up to me. He exuded an aura of undeniable self-assurance. He was a man of short stature, but it was very evident he had great confidence. His one eye seemed to glint strangely, and I realized it was artificial. “Hello, Mr. Warsaw. I hope you’ve had a pleasant sleep,” he said. “Do not struggle with your restraints, we will release you when you’ve been properly taken care of.” I tried to struggle once again, and was met with more failure, so I decided to follow his sage advice and wait. He gestured to one of the others, a man of medium build with a brown goatee and wild hair. “Dave, I need you to inject the necessary… stimulants into Mr. Warsaw. I trust your team will do the job right.” Dave nodded to the large man, and I shot an angry glance in his direction. It was carelessly brushed off, and I sank back, waiting for my rebirth, in full.
I watched the large man exit the room. He walked towards the door to the left, and bent over curiously. I looked at this and didn’t comprehend, until I realized he was using a retinal scanner to exit. This seemed strange to me, and I pondered it for a while. Coming to no logical conclusion, I decided it would be best to ask about it later. Now that the fat man was gone, I was left with a view of the lab in full. Surfaces glinted sharply in the fluorescent assault, and I had to squint to keep my eyes from hurting. Bulky containers with multicolored liquids coated the walls, which scientists were busily examining. A large table was placed squarely in the middle of the bottom floor, containers, hoses, and surgical instruments lining its perimeter. Because of the restraints, I couldn’t see much of the upper levels, but I could tell they were made of many interwoven catwalks and platforms, largely supported by great metallic pillars. I could tell the lab curved, for the windows at the far end projected a semicircular gleam from the sunlight. I thought it strange, that such a top-secret operation could be located above ground, and filed it away as another question to ask later. I had a strong intuition that I was headed for the table in the middle, and my suspicions were confirmed when Dave walked up to me. “So you are the infamous ‘Serial Blood-letter’?” he sneered through clenched teeth. “You life rests precariously in the balance, Letter, and at any moment, I can swiftly take it from you. Do not fight against us, and we will do our best to restore what you have been only clinging to.” I gave Dave an arrogant look, and realized that it would get me nowhere in my incapacitated state, so I let him take over the ordeal. “Very good, nice of you to cooperate,” he said, madness glistening in his eye. I went unconscious soon afterwards, scientists surrounding, and eager for their chunk of cheese.

Story of Clutch, now finished:
Well, on Friday, April 16, 2004, I went with my cousin and saw one of the greatest rock bands of the 90s, a little group called Clutch, perform in dahwntahwn Pittsburgh. There was this place, once called Rosebud, that has been transformed into a place called The World (not The World on Fire, or Post-apocolyptic World, or World of Hurt) and such was the fateful venue of the Clutch performance. We started the evening by waltzing into an over 21 bar, where the bouncer kindly decided that we need not flash our government issued ID cards, and replied with a kindly "shit, go ahead." While in this delightfully decadent tavern, we were greeted with many a fine looking lady, one of whom decided to serve us. Because of the upcoming rock extravaganza, I was none too hungry for foodstuffs, for my bowels ached for pure rock fury. Whilst in this club, Dwayne, one of our compatriots in the search for a good time, found out his girlfriend was escorted to the hospital via fuzzmobile, and was forced to miss the beginning of the show. This did not deterr me nor my cousin, and we vaunted faithfully towards the back of the long long line. We met a few fellow Clutch fans, and as we headed towards the hallowed golden doors, we admired the various crappy charicatures emblazoned on the sacred venue wall, paintings of a negro Yoda, and obscure cartoon characters leered at us, silently cackling and egging us ever towards the venerable portal. Upon reaching the pinnacle, the gates opened before us, and we were greeted with the sweet sounds of "We need to see your ID, sir." Naturally, I replied "I'm not gonna be drinking anyways," and was let through with nary a sideways glance. Mark, my cousin, on the other hand, was destined to become inebriated during our venture, and as such, asked with gusto for his $5 beer bracelet. We headed towards the brilliant halls, and noticed others scrambling about as ants, waiting for the queen of rock to unveil one of her chosen workers, the ones to be fed the royal jelly of rock and ascend to sit at her side.

To be continued...
(I should finish this)

End:
Then they played. There is nothing else to say.

And that's all of them.

Maybe I should make this Interesting...

I'm thinking I should start posting links or something to make this bitch at least a little interesting, so that's what I'm going to do.

The Whitest Kids U Know:
Search Youtube.

It's the end of November

Seems like I missed posting quite a few times, mainly because I'm lazy and didn't feel like writing about anything in particular. Tuesday is now taco day at Castaways in Bridgeville. This means that from now on, I'm going to stuff my face with 11-15 tacos worth of food. I think this is bad for my health, but look at me not giving a shit. I don't use hot sauce on them so it's not like I'm going to be shitting lava the next day, though I'll probably get a little plugged up. Before tacos, I fucked around with work stuff and played Smash Bros. with Matt and Nubs. I was getting pissed because nothing was going right, Mario's stupid ass kept missing all the platforms and whatnot. Eventually I won a match as Donkey Kong, but goddamn it took forever. I haven't really done any work on the project at hand for work, but I think with a few solid hours put into the project, I'll have something usable before the end of the month. At least that's the hope. I need to find out of Flight of the Concords is coming out on DVD anytime soon, because those motherfuckers make me laugh a lot. It's like a less vulgar and more awkward Tenacious D, and I could not be more happy with the outcome. I closed the day off by posting some nonsense in BYOB, something I regularly do to punctuate the day with a happy, sleepy little period or sometimes even a soothing question mark. I think I may start playing Super Mario Galaxy again from a fresh save, I have a large amount of love for the game and could see myself finishing it yet again. That's about it for tonight, goodnight all!