Pen-Powered Insanity

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Apr 14, 2017 7:24 pm

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Apr 14, 2017 8:00 pm

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When you realize that every eye looks like a sideways-pussy, you begin to understand why some people always want to look you in the eye.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Apr 14, 2017 8:15 pm

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sat Apr 15, 2017 6:10 pm

I'm done with giving up; with goin back
to places of my mind colored black
tired of failing to do; what I want to do
so sick of giving up on myself
I hope you understand why
I could never ask for help
Nobody could ever help me
in the way I needed
The help I got was not helpful
though I appreciate the intent

This is where I set my feet down
Where I pit them and push back
This is where I make my stand
and start moving forward with a life
that I've slacked off on for far too long
and I've heard that strife
is just a passing song
My eyes; opened again
and I see a lot of things I thought
that I already saw
and I can calculate the odds
that the same is going to happen again

Fuck all of you who said I'd never make it
Haters can hate all they want
But I've accomplished what I've set out to accomplish
I did what people said couldn't be done
so, all of your words only do so much
now sit back and watch as I take off
cause this what I've been waiting for
what I've been building up to
and everything I do from here on out
will only prove to show you
all the things that make you
jealous






When I was a kid, I drew pictures of god with a penis and two titts
And so they thought I was quite disturbed
Confusing their savior for a hermaphrodite
but, I never thought to set them straight
God is both sexes as they themselves said
So now they have me taking these pills
Pills upon pills upon pills upon pills
Where were you when my blood began to spill
Spurting and gushing, my bedroom walls it was painting
All I remember is a feeling of falling and fainting
Maybe it was the acid that did it
Maybe it was just the lsd in it
A hallucination of epic proportion
It's these god damned drugs, doctor idiot
Ever since they misdiagnosed me as a kid
They thought I was disturbed back then
Well take a look now at what's inside my head
Demons bouncing back and forth through thick and thin
Going crazy as if they just had their feast of blood
And it all swirls down as thick as mud
Pills upon pills upon pills upon pills
You crazy little quack, I'ma laugh as your blood spills
They call me special and I blame the drugs
They say I'm strange, I say it's the drugs
The DRUGS, the DRUGS, the DRUGS
A killing spree across the states
Caused by my drug-induced haze
All because one day when I was a kid
I decided to draw God with titts and a dick
And I showed it to people I thought would understand
Religion comes with a high demand
Pills upon pills upon pills upon pills
Quack, quack, quack, a doctor's malpractice bills
It's THE DRUGS, DRUGS, and these PILLS
I'm special and strange and they blame the drugs
I'm psychotic and deranged and I hang out with thugs
And it's all because of these pills, these drugs







Across the expanse of land, their two hearts met
At first, not sure, almost hesitant
And then realizing love, they leapt with joy
A love so true that time or distance could not destroy

Across the expanse of land, their two hands met
Clasping one another, if only in imagination
And realizing love, they squeezed each other
A love so pure that it could never smother

Across the expanse of land, their bodies met
A mixture of sweet and musky scent
And then realizing love, they intertwined
A love so real as to destroy all lines

Across the expanse of land, he said to her
I love you, with all of my heart, forever
And then realizing love, she softly said it back to him
A love so everything, it denies explanation
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Mon Apr 17, 2017 7:33 pm

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Image - I'm beginning to think it's some person that named themselves 'curiosity' and decided to be a serial killer.

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Tue Apr 18, 2017 6:18 pm

I realized something today as I was walking down the street with my hand in my pocket. If nothing else, my pocket is always there to hold my hand.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Wed Apr 19, 2017 7:37 pm

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Thu Apr 20, 2017 6:12 pm

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sat Apr 22, 2017 7:57 pm

I was almost relatively sure that I told people things. I was just as relatively sure that they interpreted it how they wanted to and basically ignored everything else I said. I'm also relatively sure that they're just doing whatever they want, but then again, relatively, I could make them want to do better work.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sat Apr 22, 2017 8:17 pm

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Jun 02, 2017 12:44 am

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Image and even more after I die.

So.... when I'm not busy surviving the torture artists of eternity, I'm busy surviving the torture artists of eternity that want me to stoke my own ego and then when I'm not surviving them, I'm surviving the torture artists that break through that actually try to do legit work coinciding with my work and the greater good. Haven't had much time to actually pursue making the world a better place; which is good, because the truth states that that's a wasted activity given what I know and what people think I had to learn of the world around me.

I've only been saying for years that the corrupt run and ruin the world. It's in every aspect of our lives; every corner of our world, including what was supposed to be the last wild west frontier before we went into outer space, but it hurried and got a hold on even the internet where, for years; over a decade, I have played the martyr for so many aspects of legion and what wants to tear limb from limb everyone who actually wishes to stand for something greater than their maniacal, short-sighted schemes that rely on too many dreamers that they mistreat and then milk for ideas and good sentiments as much as they can before discarding like so much excess and wasted material.

I just really don't think that those corrupted ones; the same ones that saw fit to tell me I needed to get out and see what the world was like; quite understand or fathom any mind that doesn't buckle and bend to their will or coincide with something they can actually use for their purposes. They can't actually see the point of why anyone would see something through to the end of their life for more than fate and destiny and lacking a choice. But, with choice, with free will, to see through to the end of life a path that leads only to tragedy and death and to do it not to spread further misery, but to lift high golden dreams that they call wasted ideals.... They just don't want to get it, and beyond just not wanting to get it, refuse to try to even wrap their heads around it without making fun of it or dissing it or trying to knock it down.

Well, here goes round 'who-gives-a-fuck-what-round-it-is'; me back in black and blue, my favorite colors of wardrobe. Johnny Cash may have taken pride in being a man in black up ahead of those in mourning and the downtrodden and beaten down. I figured, ahead of that, there's got to be a man in back and blue that's taking the actual beatings.

Let's see how deep this rabbit hole goes before they're able to get that bullet through my head.

Bang will be the sound of my brains hitting the asphalt. If they're lucky and have a psychic on hand, they might even be able to get a reading of their own futures from the blood and gristle and tough textures of the brain; like lobster flesh. I know there's a word for it, but I don't care to google it. or bing it. or yahoo it. anyone remember that Lycos search engine? The ones that preceded modern search engines monopolizing peoples searching needs.

Time to get back up again, dust off my cavalier attitude; it'll never be shiny again, but the dust! grrrr. It's hard to maintain war gear these days, I tell you what.

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Back to our eternal dance.

our eternal romance.

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Arcturus Descending » Fri Jun 02, 2017 3:04 pm

Some Guy in History wrote:I realized something today as I was walking down the street with my hand in my pocket. If nothing else, my pocket is always there to hold my hand.


Ah! Something kind of profound about that one for me. It kind of reminded me, in a way, of the below which I remember from reading in a greeting card a few years back.


“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
"Pooh!" he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you.”
― A.A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner



Isn't it remarkable how certain things can strike such a chord in us!
SAPERE AUDE!


If I thought that everything I did was determined by my circumstancse and my psychological condition, I would feel trapped.


What we take ourselves to be doing when we think about what is the case or how we should act is something that cannot be reconciled with a reductive naturalism, for reasons distinct from those that entail the irreducibility of consciousness. It is not merely the subjectivity of thought but its capacity to transcend subjectivity and to discover what is objectively the case that presents a problem....Thought and reasoning are correct or incorrect in virtue of something independent of the thinker's beliefs, and even independent of the community of thinkers to which he belongs.

Thomas Nagel


I learn as I write!
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Tue Jun 13, 2017 10:14 pm

Cheers to those who rode out the time discrepencies of the past 20 months or so. Less than two years and events had overlayed in such a way as to cause much more coincidence than can be contrived as impossible to brush off. Multiple strings of days where people did the exact same activities as before; etc. The interesting part was how memory for some of us was delayed until neck deep into the repeats of activities and then the bone-chilling factor, for some, of what nearly came to be before I left Redding, CA the first time to head to the East coast and back. Events where nearly everybody died, at each others throats, near to fighting. The end of this particular and peculiar time loop is by no means the end, but saw some of us through to the other side of memory where we could remember nearly all of it without the trauma these events first induced. And, enabled the completion of certain events in the process, showing the complexities of time and space. It also enabled us to recognize and put identities to some of the artists of the events due to time spent in the midst of it all learning each others tactics and personalities and flavors.

It was peculiar to spend the past 10-11 months since my return to Redding among the company of people I was unable to remember having met before I left the first time and even more peculiar to spend time in the company of such during events shortly forgotten after they happened.

It is a haunting horror story our lives have become. A beautiful symphony orchestra. Time is soon coming to pass where my love affair with life in all its twisted and sordid death-throes will come to an end. Another chapter ended, another case handled... I think my death shall come some time next year or the year after; just not this year.

Here's to having already said my goodbyes ahead of time just in case. Cheers.

~The master of time and space
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Thu Jun 15, 2017 8:33 pm

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Jun 16, 2017 6:26 pm

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Shepherdess » Sat Jun 17, 2017 5:22 pm

I think my death shall come some time next year or the year after; just not this year.


I wonder what Death has to say about that. Have you discussed the above thought with him?
"It is by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble, there lies your treasure."
Joseph Campbell

"In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel nothing can befall me in life, - no disgrace, no calamity, (leaving me my eyes,) which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground, - my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space, - all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

"No way of thinking or doing, however ancient, can be trusted without proof. What everybody echoes or in silence passes by as true today may turn out to be falsehood tomorrow, mere smoke of opinion, which some had trusted for a cloud that would sprinkle fertilizing rain on their fields."
Thoreau
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sun Jun 18, 2017 9:30 pm

Shepherdess wrote:
I think my death shall come some time next year or the year after; just not this year.


I wonder what Death has to say about that. Have you discussed the above thought with him?


I am Death. Incarnate in the flesh. I already had every conversation I care to have with myself on various other subjects. So many other things were too willing to throw my own death in my face too many times to make it popular conversation. Not even for personal reasons, just for the sheer fact that so many others seem to care about discussing it more than me.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Mon Jun 19, 2017 7:15 pm

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Tue Jun 20, 2017 7:29 pm

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Wed Jun 21, 2017 3:14 am

That moment when you realize at the very point of starting to WANT to live your life, that you've already pretty much lived your life.

Oh well, good thing that I can prove that the absence of an afterlife is far less likely than there being an afterlife.

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Jun 23, 2017 7:10 pm

had another tooth break on me last night. This time on pizza, which is a good change of pace. Most of my teeth have broken eating soft foods like bread, surprisingly, instead of hard foods. Go figure.

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soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur; soft kitty, warm kitty, purr, purr, purr.

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Mon Jun 26, 2017 8:56 pm

I don't hate myself, I'm not depressed or suicidal, I'm not some idealist that believes it will make everything better; I just want to die. I don't want to live in this world or reality any more. There's no point to it when there is no cessation of the constant depravity. There's no point to it when so many don't make it worth living and then do and then have it butchered right after.

This is what it's supposed to be? This is the way it is? The only way it could ever be? Then, I want to die. Please see me to the door, allow me to exit stage right.

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I am just really at odds with what so much of it chooses to be. At odds with what so much is so easily made into.

Life was fucking me so hard I put a ring on its finger and fucked back. I also know reincarnation to be possible. I really do not look forward to getting back together with this ex.

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I swear to God you're all retarded and nothing will ever be able to fix it because you all fight against what actually is helping and destroy every single thing in its pursuit of helping and call that being victorious; call it winning.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Mon Jun 26, 2017 9:10 pm

You will undoubtedly always find some way to misconstrue what I said because none of you really want to handle that much sadness and use false cheats of reality instead of facing the pain like you should which is what makes you retarded.

But, I bet and wager my soul and every soul in existence that someone will view that to be stupid. I won't lose. There is literally an idiot out there that knows that is what they do, and would still call me stupid for noticing, being able to express it and say it. They will idiotly open their mouth somewhere about it before learning why it's not idiocy on my behalf and actually idiocy on theirs.

And that only adds impetus to my wanting to die. That these possible idiots were taught by me, proved how intelligent they were and still didn't see their own idiocy because they refused to and then blamed the teachers instead of themselves in all idiocy true and proper; true and proper retards all of them.

And then to top it all off some of the idiots will say that I'm being overly dramatic, to which I say again, I want to die; I've wanted to die since before even meeting half of you just based on what I could sense and feel. I wanted to die for bearing what so many of you refused to and even that refusal was based in an ignorance which further made me want to die and all of that without my knowing, so no it couldn't have been an idiot loop like the hate and rage that many of you made me feel.

And in the process of calling me overly-dramatic, they're already freaking out, becoming more overly-dramatic than I could ever be. And, to be sure, some idiot, whether here or in the mind somewhere will find some random tangent in this thread to retardedly drag out and make this about instead of actually tackling the meat of it and if they tackle the meat of it, choke on it and find some insulting edge to give back for being the idiots I knew them to be that they refuse to admit they are.

And finally, I want to die. This doesn't make me want to go out of my way to do so, it's not a statement of suffocation or drowning, it's just a statement of, I'm going to live until I die, try to enjoy the most I can, but don't pretend that that makes it all right or makes me in any way forget what I've gone through in my life or what's coming at me. It's not about being given reasons or not being given reasons, it's not about not being given a choice; it is simply the retardism and idiocy of so many that I have to exist around. That's all. The depravity, the torture, byproducts of the idiots that heard only what they wanted to hear and the sheer idiocy of it all. I can no longer tolerate, bear, or endure it.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sat Jul 01, 2017 6:29 pm

Welcome to the Devil's Den; The Devil's Playground; The Devil's Dominion in Gods savage Garden.

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Mon Jul 03, 2017 6:30 pm

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