Pen-Powered Insanity

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

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Arcturus Descending » Sat Jan 14, 2017 9:03 pm

Random Factor wrote:What the Hell is insanity? I have not actually seen it even once. Even in the most crazy of people, there is still sanity. I have seen people refuse to act and react rationally, refuse to act and react reasonably and refuse to admit a lot of things, but not once have I seen insanity.

I do know that I'm going to enjoy continuing to rip this world to shreds for it.

Image


Your image, the grim reaper, or death incarnate as perhaps it's supposed to be here, seems to be more than a tad in shreds himself, more than a tad "done in" so to speak.

What is insanity to you RF?
Actually, concerning what you wrote above, you just might be the prosecuting attorney's best defense when it comes to how people use "insanity" as a reason or a plea to "get off" .

One of the best definitions of insanity I've ever come across and it may sound cliche-ish (sp?) but it is the attempt to solve a problem or to find a solution by simply repeating the same actions over and over again and expecting to get different or better results.
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


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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sat Jan 14, 2017 9:07 pm

Didn't you know, arc my lad, that death and decay go hand in hand? those tatters are style and class, lad; style and class.

what would you do if I told you everything different in life is just a repeat of doing the same thing over and over again having it become so many different things?

insanity to me then becomes what so many classify and define as insanity based on what is taught to them of it, if they know anything at all, something they have very little understanding of.

To simplify, you're insane if you believe anyone else to be insane. Those who are sane know what paths the 'insane' took to get to where they are and know the paths out.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Arcturus Descending » Sat Jan 14, 2017 9:47 pm

Random Fact

Didn't you know, arc my lad, that death and decay go hand in hand?.


lol No one has ever called me "my lad" before.
So ALSO does Life, death and decay take that journey together.


those tatters are style and class, lad; style and class

That would depend, to me, how those tatters got there.


what would you do if I told you everything different in life is just a repeat of doing the same thing over and over again having it become so many different things?


What would I do? I'd agree with you since it is true for the most part.
The good and tricky part of it is that it does become so many different things.



insanity to me then becomes what so many classify and define as insanity based on what is taught to them of it, if they know anything at all, something they have very little understanding of.


So, who is the true determiner of what is sane and insane?



To simplify, you're insane if you believe anyone else to be insane
.

That's not necessarily true. It may be true if someone believes that "everyone" is insane.
That person might just be projecting and not seeing their own insanity.


Those who are sane know what paths the 'insane' took to get to where they are and know the paths out.

That's not necessarily true either. But those who know human nature and the psyche might realize what paths or journey the insane must have taken to arrive at their insanity. But those people might try to only call out the sane part of that person who everyone deems as insane.

Sometimes if we can realize what a person has gone through, those who others call insane, we might wonder how they didn't lose their sanity much earlier.
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 » Sun Jan 15, 2017 10:22 pm

It was a play on words based on the video game title Arc the Lad: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arc_the_Lad

Here's the kicker, though, lad: it's not death and decay that one often has need to point out that life goes hand in hand with them through eternity. They know full well that even as undead entities, even as dead, in some way they are still living to be in existence and moving even if dead or undead at the time. It's the living that are most often the stupid ones.

That would depend, to me, how those tatters got there.


It's considered good sportsmanship to put up at least some fight against death even if you are a willing partaker.

The good and tricky part of it is that it does become so many different things.


Then insanity, good sir, is not repeating the same thing over and over expecting different results. That is now able to be classified as a misnomer.

Here is where I depart from the conversation because the varying courses of insanity and sanity aren't labeled effectively enough to have this conversation past this point. They are labeled as either sane or insane based on the viewing audience and the acceptability of those labels by the society around them. I could look into the eyes of many and see sanity even behind the most insane of visages that would only be considered as an insane visage by those who panicked or became terror-stricken or felt some oddity in their own self-reactions that caused them to overlook the sanity or not see it and see only the accepted insanity of the condition.

I repeat when I say that only the truly sane may look around them and know for sure that insanity is only an illusion because they see and 'see' the paths taken to get there and depart back to the 'norm'. Sadly, those who do not fit the norm must choose to come back, for it is for a reason why they stay where they are, and the insanity of their condition is only seen for what it is when they themselves panic, become terror-stricken, feel stuck there without knowing how to get back, which, launches into a whole bunch of other problems based on variable factors.

We might wonder if they ever lost their sanity at all if we know the psychology of what we deem and consider to be a loss of sanity. It might very well be the right reaction for a world that is insane in terms of rejecting truth of reality around them and forcing themselves into child-states of ignorance of consequences and ignorance of vast pieces of reality, what they claim is bliss.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sun Jan 15, 2017 11:40 pm

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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sun Jan 15, 2017 11:41 pm

Just remember that The Devil is only the Prince of Darkness. God is still the King of Kings.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Wed Jan 18, 2017 9:29 pm

I was going to come up with something intellectual or satirical or ironical or straight up ventilating, but then I got caught up in those little Facebook analysis quizzes for an hour and that was much more valued expenditure of time and attention. So, this is all you get. And a picture, because I got two minutes left on my internet time today and pictures are easy to google.

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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Jan 20, 2017 9:10 pm

And, fuck off again.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby MagsJ » Sat Jan 21, 2017 12:10 am

And, you fuck off again too RF ;)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sat Jan 21, 2017 7:51 pm

MagsJ wrote:And, you fuck off again too RF ;)


lol.

I'm just getting tired of the song and dance routine.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sun Jan 22, 2017 10:30 pm

My body, brain, every cell and atom wish to take a break from the song and dance routine and things conspire against the whole organism that I am to fuck me over completely. Performing the illusion of the perpetual motion device that is never not moving, things even infiltrate my cells and atoms and body parts in part or full to force them to work every which way they can. If you ever learn that you can stop completely without dying, just like experiencing other things that I've experienced, the very stark difference between them and the rest of your life removes all doubt and disbelief and at the point of learning that you can stop completely without dying and just enjoy the day somewhere without thinking about anything, just perceiving, viewing, etc., it's like, yes, technically I am still in motion then, but it's a relaxed motion of being at peace, the body is motionless, parts of it are still working to maintain bodily functions like processing foods, they can't stop growing just the same as shedding dead skin cells as new ones are made to replace them, just the same, the brain never stops in awake mode, only in complete sleep do you experience the 'pure' nothingness that many wish follows after death. That's all I'm asking for, not in excess; but I've been a starving man in a wasteland of a desert surrounded by people who have had an easier time of things and even when things bring pleasant things, pleasant visions, move toward 'helping' me with my ongoing hobby of fix what's fucked up with the world, they're still forcing my movement, forcing my involvement, refusing to acknowledge that I need a fucking break not just from my hobby, not just from my enemies, but them, too; and the fact is that in my pursuit of a sustained and lasting true peace in society and humanity, even those helpers, at all other times that they aren't frantically worried that I'll quit for good, are still my fucking enemies.

To just sit back on a sunny day, using my pack as a pillow and pulling my beanies or hoody over my eyes enough to shade from the sun and just doing absolutely nothing. No imagining things, enjoying the darkness behind the eyes, or opening them and enjoying the aesthetic value of the world around me; nothing bringing me visions or thoughts or trying to trick my body into thinking it's acting on it's own; it knows better.

The worst part is, in Redding, CA where I still am, it has rained more in the past few months, hard, than I'm sure it has in the past 5 years combined, at the least. And, even though it's not my fault, I know it's because I'm here and the things that plague me are at fault and to blame for their continued enslavement of all that is good, their continued robbery and assault of all that people deserve and the best of people as they are forced by an autonomous bullshit artist collective to bend to all the wrong things.

Color me the greatest criminal of all kind just for cutting to the point and calling it out. Color me the clown with a red nose and big floppy shoes just for cutting the idle chit-chat to shreds, dispensing with the talking for days about the thought of doing something and actually just getting shit done. Paint me as the mastermind of existence simply for doing in such a short amount of time what all the con artists and bullshitters and feet-draggers have whined about for eternities and it has taken them eternities to do for it. Just by doing, I have somehow mastered something they have not, yet when they 'do', when they act, they destroy everything no matter what they do, even in their idle chit-chat, even in their talking for days and weeks just about the thought of doing things, in their faulty compromises that they then try to force on everyone outside of their small little groups and pretend that they were rightfully elected or chosen by the majority of others.

And I'm not even discussing politics or major world-wide organizations. I'm talking about places even like this, games even like the walking dead for touch-screen phones and tablets, World of Warcraft. Everywhere. Their desolation is complete. They didn't have to fight hard for it, what they had to fight hard for through eternity as they whined and dragged their feet like petulant children just not wanting to do right, just not wanting to learn how to do things properly, was a freedom that isn't even a freedom. The freedom to do whatever the fuck they want without consequence so they can treat others like shit and not destroy everything and just live like royalty the way THEY think royalty should be, even though they haven't deserved it? Even if they had surpassed eternity, had earned it in a past one, or cut it down to simple life by life reincarnation, same concept; aren't we as a fucked up society, if we applied it to that, would be right to say then in that context, 'what the fuck have you done recently you piece of fucking shit that's just continuing to fuck up an already fucked up world.'

I have such great work ethic just for wanting to get shit done and out of the way so I can enjoy my time better. Nobody really likes chores. I have such great skill for doing it in such a short amount of time because I don't waste time by whining and trying to drag it out over a week or a month just to get out of it. They spend a week to a month doing that, I get done what they drag heels on in 1-4 hours. Oh, then I have time to actually go and do things that I enjoy. No fucking shit, what a great way of doing things. And, for this, I am the worst criminal in existence. For supporting this way of life, I am forced to have to kill at times, at other times simply forced to have to prove that I can kill if necessary. For this, I have to fight so many contestants, so many competitors, second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year; and they marvel at my staying power, my stamina and endurance, my ability to get back up even after the heavy knockdowns, as if I had a fucking choice. They stand in awe at my heart, my soul; my undying passion and then they crow when I break, or they used to, wonder at the fact, now, that I never seem to break and then marvel at the fact that when they keep knocking me down, when they reduce it back down, again, to impossible odds, how I break again, yet in a way, now, that strikes fear in them and presses them to the wall with their backs against it.

I'm done. Not done trying to make the world better, just done. I'm not going to 'die' again for their pleasure; I'm not going back to walking dead fashion of a zombie for them to make fun of or to delight at my apathy and feast on my anger, rage, frustration and hopelessness, helplessness. The fact that I feast on them, now, and openly, only makes me a worse criminal and the hypocrites are quick to call me on it. Here I am, one of the nicest motherfuckers you could ever meet, one of the fairest who wouldn't try to fuck you over and admitting that things can still grab me up in a moment to cause me to do so, forced to look like one of the most evil; one of the most heinous, for the pleasure of the twisted viewing audience that wants to try to convince itself it's doing good and right. Forced to look like the worst criminal in existence, and to wit, I am, as I work my ass off to take it out of them as they incite themselves and each other to further bullshit. For this, I am the greatest mass murderer of eternity, the greatest thief, the greatest betrayer, the greatest sinner and yet I claim the paradox of being without sin, being without crime and put forth the reason that not just justifies it, but confirms it legitly.
Last edited by Some Guy in History on Sun Jan 22, 2017 11:35 pm, edited 6 times in total.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sun Jan 22, 2017 10:59 pm

This is the dream I've been dreaming of
Family and friends beside me, sharing love
cloud-filled skies of blue
beneath my feet, rocks and grass that move
wind across my face and through my hair
and soft rain that kisses, when it's there
air that fills my lungs with every breath
all of it leading towards inevitable death
clear, cold water that quenches thirst
meats and plants to sate my hunger
a vast circle of life and death in perfect equality
enveloping far more than egotistic and vain humanity
This is the dream I've been dreaming of
the dream of souls and spirits, all below and above
And to dream it all feels so right
because, you see, the dream is life.








And too many fucking cunts and bastards have made a nightmare out of the most beautiful of dreams and demand the beautiful dreamers to fix it for them so they can go fuck it up again.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Meno_ » Mon Jan 23, 2017 2:15 am

Hello, Random: I am going to take great interest in You and Your writings from now on, because I've been through Redding so many times. As a matter of fact, Jack's Steakhouse is incredible. Your're still there?

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrreat! I will read your lit. Stuff, and read your philos. material as, well.
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Tue Feb 21, 2017 7:22 pm

Bob Seger - Turn the Page

On a long and lonesome highway, east of Omaha
You can listen to the engine moanin' out its one-note song
You can think about the woman, or the girl you knew the night before

But your thoughts will soon be wandering the way they always do
When you're riding sixteen hours and there's nothing there to do
And you don't feel much like riding, you just wish the trip was through

Here I am, on a road again
There I am, on the stage
Here I go, playing star again
There I go, turn the page

Well, you walk into a restaurant all strung-out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you as you're shaking off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you but you just want to explode

Most times you can't hear 'em talk, other times you can
All the same old clichés: "Is it woman? Is it man?"
And you always seem outnumbered, so you don't dare make a stand

Here I am, on a road again
There I am, on the stage
Here I go, playing star again
There I go, turn the page

Out there in the spotlight you're a million miles away
Every ounce of energy you try to give away
As the sweat pours out your body like the music that you play

Later in the evening as you lie awake in bed
With the echoes from the amplifiers ringin' in your head
You smoke the day's last cigarette, remembering what she said

Here I am, on a road again
There I am, up on the stage
Here I go, playing star again
There I go, turn the page

Here I am, on a road again
There I am, on the stage, yeah
Here I go, playing star again
There I go, there I go




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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Tue Feb 21, 2017 9:05 pm

Another shot before I go about another day in another life; another tragedy in an eternity that is sick and tired of tragedies and yet cannot get or obtain any better for all that it tries to do for or against it all. Banging it's head against a wall that never breaks, never gives, then breaks and gives... too soon or too late? Too little or too much?

And of these fools who think they can take on eternity and reality as a singular entity and take power and exert power, is it not to their detriment and yet to their credit that they can do so for far too long with too little consequence, with the... revenge being too waylaid, the payback unfair, justice delayed and too obscure.

I'm being just a tad too insane, but then again this is my pen-powered insanity, my rant against the world, my war against the nations thereof and my ongoing fight and fuck off and love and hate granted toward eternity, all of reality. My one life, as they say, though I intend to live more than just one; as most others do, I intend to live forever. Perhaps I already have and already will and this is my end result and beginning and therefore come to understand before I ever start and multiple times throughout my journey and at the very end of another mere beginning I come back to this life somehow randomly delivered on factors beyond mere sentience and conjecture, pure coincidence or, for some strange reason no matter how old I may get in the coming eternities somehow still fall for old tricks all the same.

And if this is the case beyond all the arguments against and for, for such to be insanely conjectured, not just one, but many, but still just one and then many and many more with not a one or the one in sight...

Because, I bet you once upon a time or two... I bet you that in eternity you'd do most anything whether you wanted to or not, and perhaps everything in every order and given longer time and no more reason not to, turn to everything all over again only to find something new, a brand new avenue or two that took you on another adventure or two off in some other place that you began to enjoy until remembering all the same that it's just another variation, only to be found here again and going over everything again and again until madness did claim every single one of you and us and I and when it came to be that we were dragged forward again by those still claiming NO NO NO NO NO.... Where did we go, what did we lose on the way when true madness and insanity did grip us and lay claim...

Arguing and fighting against and saying, no, no, no, no, no, this can not be true... as some hideous visage of a beautiful man who claimed to be God turned with coldness in his heart and no love left for lies and said quite savagely at times, quite calmly at others, every single bit of it is true in every single way in every single facet all at the same time and all at different times, all at opposites and not opposite and is this not the law and actuality of paradox that is paradox and not paradox at the same time in so many vast and varying degrees?

For this I will die, for this I have killed, for this I have denied an immortal life that can not be had at this time only to hope and reach for it in some other life where I can actually once again grab and grasp an immortal life for an eternity or two in flesh and blood to be the one to kill everyone in ways beyond the spirit and mind, in flesh itself; again in a life where I would rather not, where things wrap me up and make me perform all the same to the same tune and piper that becomes me in another life, in the same life, in every life and if such is evil or good or beyond such things, what difference were it to make if we were told we could do something we knew we could do that others of us knew we couldn't and knew we didn't want to at the same time as knowing we did as we try to convince ourselves of what we already know all the way around and around like scientists science experiments in a centrifuge separating liquids and seeing what comes of it and then to do so again with plans in hand to get specific results to make things that they can make, another weapon to our arsenal for all of the claims of it never being such at all and sure enough some are trying to tell the truth, but it all becomes war again in the end, peace again in the war.

I see repeatedly a bullet in my head, between my eyes. My constant goad as threats are given, nut up or shut up; either I die today and one less worry tomorrow or I live until I die and such a convenient thing it is that I either die by a gunshot blast to my head between my eyes or I live until I die, but do I ever see old age at all in this life? What is true prophecy and what is not when so much overshadows, when so much plays out day by day and even it doesnt happen exactly as foreseen, doesn't it happen all the same, anyway?

And with the damage done as I fought for peace, have I not become the worst criminal in existence without even trying? I am branded as traitor with treason against my country, a mass murderer they can do nothing about, have stolen and disrupted the peace from the very hearts and minds of all around me and have done far worse than all those who have ever tried to do be the criminal, have gained more infamy than I have ever gained a single ounce of a peace that I now have to take by force from the very minds of the very citizens that I once sought to protect and now despise for all of their lies and for the repeating of the world that I grew up in and revenge becomes my calling card as I righteously and self-righteously, unpityingly and unsympathetically destroy every vestige of community and society as surely as I sought to build it up and to worse degree than any who ever sought to do it purposefully against me as they destroyed everything I loved and I destroyed it more than they ever could and again they are not jealous but looking at me as a madman genius for they know they're wrong, fucked up and faulty, but for all of that, I am not and have done far worse than they ever could while caught up in fighting me they helped me destroy the very sanctity of the insanity we all had been so unaware of.

And none of you will ever be the same, I have raped your sanity; raped your peace of mind; raped your world and so my death no matter how it comes will come deservedly and I will face it with a smile on my face knowing that there was nothing that could be done to avoid my fate; nothing that could be done to escape my destiny. That as I leave this world behind, I will rip so much from you all in the passing from it that the very future fades from sight and naught is known about the fate of mankind other than perhaps they carry on, carrying a worse stain than 2000 years ago when they killed a Jesus Christ in mystery and myth if not in actuality and reality itself. A mockery they and you have made of what it all should be and have blamed me for it, blamed me for existing, yet exalted me as your King in one form or another even if none of you ever truly admitted it, from life time to life time as deprived from all that so many others have, I walk the lonely paths, walk the dark paths, walk the paths that each of you could claim you had walked as I deprive you all from being able to rightfully prove or claim or share in my rising fame. No doubt that each of you are me and I am you all and where I go you all go, sadly and lamentably, but know that I hate and detest and love and just RJKLWJKHFJ:WH:JFVHWJ:HV:JWH, you know?

I am the best and the worst, the beast and the man, the devil and the god, the first and the last. And still, there is no end to this debauchery of eternity as all of time and space stares on and peers in, dumbfounded and amazed, horrified and amused. YOLO? One Life? who the fuck are you kidding? Would you ever be satisfied with just one? Would you ever let some jackass multitude ever convince you that they could keep you down for an entire eternity, keep you out? Keep you from getting exactly what you want and deserve? Who the fuck are you all kidding? Discard this name and face? Have I not shown how easy I shed names, how easy I shed faces? And will still forever be known and can never be truly locked out completely, somehow get in again and again?

I beg it, I ask for it, I have said it in so many ways throughout my life that has unnerved so many and staid their hands, but kill me, get it over, this isn't the life where I get what I deserve or what I need, this isn't the life where I get an actual success as more than a tragedy. Put a bullet in my head if you want me to shut up and know that even in death my voice will probably still haunt and so it becomes that they're doubly unnerved and afraid that even a bullet to the brain won't shut my ass up or keep me down, that my body may even heal itself up, push the bullet out and for all of the beliefs that someone who comes back from the dead is no longer the same, I bring to the table my resume of life and say NO FUCKING SHIT YOU COCKSUCKING FUCKS, but I'll still be me all the same and perhaps I won't even give a fuck at all at that point and maybe then, if it comes to that hypotheticality, I'll begin my killing spree that I have staid my own hand from, waiting for something worth putting aside all that I have tried to believe in and be about. And God help them if it comes to that, because if they unload their guns on me and I still am not dead, they'll certainly regret it.

Convince each other and yourselves that this is madness I'm spewing, crazy talk. Convince yourselves that it's not true, not able to be done; convince yourselves, it matters not. I am not God, I am beyond; was never that bullshit but over-rode and destroyed the image, tore down the spirit. I was never what they knew of the being, and yet part of his story rings true for me all the same. Alpha and Omega? Beginning and End? First and Last? Majestic in his beauty and works and yet terrifying in his wrath? Sounded right up my alley.

And this Jesus Christ motherfucker who became a wannabe-me. A 'Christ', from Christos, meaning 'of God', tying into my name Christopher, which somehow coincidentally comes close to 'Lucifer', and my middle name 'Michael', from Saint Christopher and Saint Michael to Michael the Archangel, to Lucifer, prince of lies and devil to God the demon madman, the old bastard, every story they tell in frightening exaggeration and frightening truth and every stone turned over to see what was beneath only has me finding more and more beings that have filled these rolls and their stories are ever close to each other in frightening similarities and stark differences all the same, each one a tribute and a mockery to all that I am.

Jesus Christ who himself thought he would be me when his gaze pierced time and space. I am tired of it. Every theology? Every line of sight? Every branch of the tree of life AND the tree of death? This is me? What is attached to MY name and face as it stands in this life? And these are the least of my titles, what come so prominently, because I'd rather at times be the director, the teacher, the actor, the thief, the warrior, the poet, the cultural guru, and so many other roles I could fill all the same and just as well. They want me as a judge? Jury and Executioner? As this:

Image

Image

The judge bunny that preceded Ishtar, that preceded Jesus Christ, the judge bunny that ruled Easter Island, predating even fertility rituals, this is what they want me to be again, says an archaic spirit as it comes to me again. And I refused it, walked right through it, but this is what they made of me anyway. They wanted me to be death, to be law, to be order, to be balance; but they wanted it their way, wanted me to be their bitch of a tool for what they wanted all of these things to be and thus made me these things to far worse degree as they fought for me to be by their ways for their means as I fought against and became anyway.

These things I have found out, these things I have gone in search of; these things I have found answers for because they have pertained to me and remain pertinent to me and not a single damn one of you. They don't hold the same meaning, don't hold the same force. So, that is how I know that I am not all of you, that none of you are me, that individuality beyond lies was conceived and held and had and that we are part of mass-consciousness, not constantly sharing brain space as so many spirits beyond the flesh would claim and have us believe as they over-ride our thoughts, destroy every remnant of what each of us have learned to try to convince us of so much beyond the truth and so much lesser than it and it does not matter because through time and space they have bound others to them with their lies, have gained their power and tried to destroy mine and my life will most assuredly end with a bullet to the brain as these 'attacks' come in waves, as so many are driven insane and the madness becomes ingrained; engraved.

In fire and pain you'll find me again and again throughout eternity; in dangerous darkness, again and again you will find me when you all forget. Because those places are where I'm the safest, where nobody else goes, where all of you fear to tread.



V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villian by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. (he carves a "V" into a sign) The only verdict is vengence; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. (giggles) Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Evey: Are you like a crazy person?
V: I'm quite sure they will say so.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Wed Feb 22, 2017 8:08 pm

I'm afraid to say that this ride is not over; not by a long shot. Together we are bound and together we seek to undo the binds that bind us together and through it all we find ourselves becoming enemies of reality and enemies of so many we'd rather not be enemies toward as they become our enemies and enemies of us in strange and magnificent ways, horror-shrouded as they slowly niggle at the edges of the peripheries of our mental and physical vision; 'they can not mean it that way, they can not be serious.'

Why so serious? I'm sorry repeated insanely in eternity, drowned out by so many other things, an echoing cry of extreme rage, frustration, helplessness becoming what they know of the sound of madness beyond chaos the cacophony of sound and vision and all masking that sorrowful voice that so honestly and trembling, crying, 'I'm sorry!'

Were you all to know what I know and hear what I hear and see what I see beyond just secondhand tragedy, torment and trauma as I submit time and again another tidbit of the darkness within myself, a darkness ever present; few dreams, few nightmares when I close my eyes, but a constant rumbling of voices here and there beyond my mental 'hearing' and adding to the layers of my suffering, my sleep has often been nothing more than just darkness, troubled or complete to wake the next day refreshed, at peace. What has broken through has rarely ever been 'golden' or 'nice', but war and violence, pain and agony, horror and emotionally scarring.

I know not what each of you have suffered in your lives or your deaths or your eternal visages but for some reason I doubt that it has been to the same degree for every bit of what it could be centers around me as the source of all of your pain, agony, joy... how could any of you truly know or understand mine. You could never live my life, would never be allowed to, even sneaking in and catching bits and pieces, you could never live mine. Even if you thought you had, you never felt it the same, never suffered the same, lived it differently in one way or the other, were caught being found not to be me.

lived my life, they said?, I questioned, how so? Lived it my way? Doubtful. Doubt they could see it through. And even if they could, what then could be said except they were pushed to perform the task to rise to a challenge and still did not experience it the same as me.

I tossed my life's chip into the piles of others and said for them to ante up, but I doubt they understood exactly what I meant. I said to hoist the flags, we be pirates, as I was forced into rebellion simply for fighting for peace as they sought in every way to stop me from succeeding. Still, I remain free, bound as I am. I refuse to bow my head, refuse to duck, refuse to bend. And, since they have made me to be the worst and best criminal in eternity for fighting a war that was necessary to fight, for fighting for a peace that as soon as I earned my right, had it stolen from me again by those all around me who refused to give up what is to be lead to true peace and instead continue to try to have it their way. Since I have found and truly seen that, in eternity, a true peace is impossible and have gone the distance, in fact, it was the first thing I did with my life to put my all into it and do my best and, if nothing else, to get it done and out of the way.

Now I have gone the distance and seen it torn to shreds, had it unraveled, all that I loved torn and ripped from me, my sanity raped before I ever got this far into the game to begin purposefully doing so to others. And, at 30, near 31, am still in my prime, still an eternal; will still grace the eternal scene throughout all aspects of reality even after my death, for countless eons to come. Now that I have tried in every way for peace, have tried in every way for reason, have found answers that should have soothed and sated; most definitely did soothe and sate my own self, there is nothing left holding me back. I have made sure that it is the wrong answer, I have made sure through countless engagements, countless face-to-faces that it is wrong. I am not stupid, I did not need all of those to learn what I already knew, what pushed me so hard to push against all that fought against me. Like the old vampire lore that stated that vampires and other agents of darkness needed permission to enter, I knocked at the door and said, this is what I was taught, this is what is taught all over the world...; is this wrong?

And surely no clear answer came to me. They gave no answer at all, and many said no, it is right and so I continued on, only to be told by so many in so many ways that I just didn't get it, needed to get out into the world to see what it was like and all I've seen around me by doing so has been nothing more than the same that they themselves have taught me. And, as I continued to push and fight for peace because it must be right, I found myself slipping, found myself caring less and less for it as the more I saw was that I gave them their version and they still turned and sought to get rid of me, slap in the face after slap in the face as insanity began to claim me.

And, I know, I scare the shit out of them, for all of this effort put into peace, I wield a force greater than they could ever hope to force to their beck and call. I have crafted true leaders and called them to me, have allowed them their own rights to act as they see fit, without permission needed from me. If I can not trust others around me to do what they do, to act on what they see that I do not, then they would waste time coming to me to tell me about it and inform me, and still I must know what goes on, must still be that piece. I have recruited to this task not just those that want peace, not just those that believed as I tried to believe, but even the worst of the worst, even brutal pirates, even remnants of ancient dynasties crafted from blood and 'glory'. Those that had seen things I had never seen in ways I could not see but am beginning to; not just to act on their own experience, but to teach me and be taught by me.

And still, all my years of fighting for peace, developing reason, understanding all of what is, pushing society forward quite further than where it was, is still just the first stage of a war beyond what many of you have ever even conceived. All of my enemies are marked in very hard-to-ignore ways. The enemies of all of reality for what they have done. And it is not any one marking. I could easily sit here and state that such markings are you all, in continued hatred of insults and trolling methods. I could claim you all here and all those like you to be those enemies, and yet you are not the only ones that destroyed peace and at some point I must even look at my own self in full and with direct honesty and say, for the things that could not be stopped, could not be controlled, I have damaged my own pursuit, knowingly, could do no less. I hit the wall I pushed off from years ago, the point where I knew I was becoming what would be marked as hypocrite, what would be marked as wrong, and could not let it hold me back, because if I did, worse yet would be the state of things than they are now, if I pushed forth, I would have to learn something new and there was nowhere to go. Like video games, the main storyline just would not have continued otherwise and I didn't waste time overly long on making the decision.

But, just the same, the nature of my war, my fight and my self changes from peace to war, through insanity and with insanity and I skip not a beat for having made this transition naturally as through peace and fighting for it, my bungee has extended its frayed cords and its erratic bouncing to deliver me at the very last to my feet on solid ground right as it snapped completely, not just once, but every single time and so I find myself having been delivered unto insanity in this same fashion, calmly and peacefully and forward I go, the eternal king and warrior into the next stage as I push from attacking the homeless around me as was their will and want of me and push toward attacking the very society, the very legal system that I once fought for and sought to see made clear and clean of corruption; a feat I know will never happen. I know my own death; I know my own life, I no longer wish it to be clean, no longer wish it to be clear. At the very point of knowing that the bullet will find my head, at the very point of knowing that they seek my head, that they seek to condemn the war hero I am and brand me as the criminal I know that I am, I intend to do what I have done to every place I have ever been and shake this world to the core of its foundations, to gut it on my way out, the same as I have done to every community I have ever passed through.

I will destroy it all and when I am gone, if it carries on, it will go on knowing that its time is metered and measured and that the end of its days; the end of humanity; will follow it and hound it until at the last, all vestiges of this atrocity and abomination; not to nature, but to peace, will be erased from time and space. That like every place I have ever been, the destruction will not be immediate, the deaths never instant, and the decay and downward spiral will still be complete. I know enough and too much; I see my enemies and my prey twist in torment, squirm in their seat as they each in turn meet my gaze against their will, each thinking they had my measure, each mistaking my meaning.

And today I struck the first true blow toward this goal, in self-defense against law enforcement, already having taken the sting out of their attack ahead of time as I passed through their innermost defenses. I will tear it down brick by brick while it all still stands as I prove myself to be terrorist and still the most loyal son of a bitch anybody could ever know. And even though it all will continue past my death, perhaps for some ages to come, it will crumble around them, crumble around humanity and as far as it runs, as it picks up the pace, develops the technology to get the fuck off of this planet turned against them and enter into that last frontier, that last wild west, they know they will enter into a ground and stage already set against them, for all of their running, for all of their fighting, they find themselves eternally in my charlie foxtrot, in my stomping grounds, reminded constantly that they can not keep me out, could not do more than ruin my reality, ruin my eternity, ruin my peace. And they will go hunted by all the rest of existence until not a single human remains.

For they could not rise to their destiny, they fell to their fate. they wanted too much to do it their way. They wanted too much too many things and life was perfect until they entered the scene, when I was the lone human in existence, alone in my kingdom with animals and plants. When my rule and my word was still trusted and respected.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Arcturus Descending » Wed Feb 22, 2017 8:58 pm

Random Factor wrote:
MagsJ wrote:And, you fuck off again too RF ;)


lol.

I'm just getting tired of the song and dance routine.


Then write some lyrics for yourself and choreograph your own dance.
Routine can become stagnant though it is still necessary (routine) but it doesn't have to be stagnant.

Become Nietzsche's dancing star.
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 » Wed Feb 22, 2017 9:11 pm

Arcturus Descending wrote:
Random Factor wrote:
MagsJ wrote:And, you fuck off again too RF ;)


lol.

I'm just getting tired of the song and dance routine.


Then write some lyrics for yourself and choreograph your own dance.
Routine can become stagnant though it is still necessary (routine) but it doesn't have to be stagnant.

Become Nietzsche's dancing star.


You just want to see me write another poem. You can already see how I respond and my song and dance routine, choreographed and not.

I'm insane
I'm bloody, bloody insane
my brain, it went dark with a stain
a stain of insane conjecture; shit, I went sane
That's insane?! That's insane! fuck, that's lame.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Thu Feb 23, 2017 7:15 pm

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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Thu Feb 23, 2017 8:04 pm

They and you all will never truly be rid of me. Never truly be free of the stains you and they all caused on reality. As I came up through the layers of it all and fought to gain my feet, as I was attacked for all the things I had not done yet and so many things went above and beyond to make it the same for so many others to try to make it even, when we peel back the layers to see who truly shot first, it was never me. I am not the Han Solo type, never was and never will be. I'm more the type to see the possibility of storm troopers as the good guys and the jedi's as taking too much for granted the powers of a universe already in turmoil and reaching out and wanting to believe that their twisted goodness could sustain it.

'May the Force be with you.'

And what does it say that they forced their way and Forced themselves on so many? What does it say that they wanted to refuse teaching a child just because of the darkness in him? Are they paladins? Are they that deluded to think that the light by itself can sustain? Where does the light go when those that belong to the light refuse to believe that the dark exists for a reason, when they refuse the truth?

What could they do if it was their time to lose, where does the light go when it needs the truth so terribly badly, when it has lost itself to so many childish ideals of what should be instead of seeing the world as it is.

I wonder where each of you have been and where you're going when you all and they all refuse to learn the lessons being taught. When you and they refuse to understand that the teaching and learning can not be avoided, that you think you can somehow talk your ways out of it all. Even I could not talk my way out of insanity and evil and darkness, even I could not fight against the truth of reality that refused peace and refuse to give up what it wanted so much to actually solve the problems, refusing perfection for all that it could have and already had. It said, you're fucking crazy if you think we're giving up what we have over each other, no matter how twisted it is, no matter how insane, no matter how it equals out anyway.

And to those who started out in life thinking they would never need to change, that they could just stick to what would always be... they're going to find out the hard way how wrong they were.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Thu Feb 23, 2017 8:59 pm



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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Feb 24, 2017 7:57 pm

I have painted and marked every human, every humanoid in eternity as an enemy of reality. They love to war so much, they cause the most damage, let them fight reality and win or lose; let reality be strengthened or destroyed by them, let them be playmates together as they destroy each other, together with reality as it destroys them and itself bit by bit through its eternal torment and eternal entertainment. Maybe things might make more sense, that as we fight each other, as we remain segregated by the lines that divide, as we try to fix what's wrong with society, we fail on all accounts, as we try to contend with our enemies we have to drop things on the run to be able to actually focus on what we need to focus on in defending ourselves and surviving, that in the process of coming to conclusions on what could fix our society, we have had to bypass and drop too much to ever make any conceivable fix a workable one which has caused me to be that one on which the weight of it all was dropped and draped, pushing me to be the one to turn on you all, to be the one to claim reality as my own, to be the one to grab the reins and drive it this way, to issue this statement that resonates with it.

To be the one who created and decreed all of this from the inside of it all as it all swirled around me, questioning vaguely too many things; are we living our lives backwards, is reality inconsistent, orderless until our minds put order to it? Yes and no, stupid questions but the best we can ask them. To be the one who was attacked from all sides and angles for the things I hadn't done yet, before I ever did them, spurring me to live the life I lived that caused me to do them. To put the hard work into peacecraft, what I believed, only to come back from the dead, never knowing I was dead, to become aware of the laughing joke played on me by so many others, only to be the one to fall so elegantly and completely into an insanity that embraced the war completely, has no problem with dropping enemies like flies competently, because I'm a mass-murderer, the realest nigga you've ever heard of.



Enough for me to look at some I would have been opposed to earlier in life as I pushed for peace; enough for me to push aside those whose reasoning and wisdom I held sound until a certain point and still admire and still hold close for the moments when their advice should be heeded, but I now look to my future, both until I die and beyond, where I rise up into this eternal war; one which I put an end to before I ever began it and do note that as others tried to start it, I ground each one to a halt to make sure and ensure that I was the one to formally and firmly be the first to actually start it up again and make of myself another enemy to reality and an enemy to all other humans and humanoids. An in between, as evenr eality itself is left in the dust, punked like the bitch it is for thinking it could step to me, for thinking it could pull the strings and laugh all the while and cover up the fact that it's mind was blown completely when I pushed through the barriers I pushed through.

And, there is a certain pleasure I find in knowing that I do this alone, on my own as so many try to work against me and only fuel me to go further. What was it I said to Ultimate Philosophy1001? 'You insult me and disrespect me, but turn to me for support when you need it most only to come back and do the same again, how long do you think that will last before you are finally dispensed with completely?' Just the same, I have sought to avoid insult and disrespect and even as I work against all others, even as I wage my one man war against eternity for forcing this role on me, others come to my aid at times to be my betrayers at other times and each one gives their energy up to me. The karma I give out comes back to me, the energy I used returned reluctantly or unintentionally and people might then begin to understand how power to the nth actually works as one being and entity wields and controls the power of eternity and reality, even unto the black holes that some have thought to have that power when it, like everything else is in every single thing; that shit is in everything.

A certain pleasure in knowing that I, alone, have risen above and beyond reality no matter how others try to stand with me, no matter what others might want to try to claim. I, alone, have stomped eternity into the dust, eternally, from just one life with proof that I have lived countless and have been everywhere. That I dance divinely, bumbling like an idiot at times, dance longly.

I dance beyond you all, in circles around you, through you, toe to toe with you, but never side by side. And, I've only stood back to back with a few, and only for a few seconds and others for mere moments of eternity no matter what it seems to them that they can then claim to have gone longer than others, survived more rounds and are still but small mention in my eternal story.

Reality has made the mistake of stepping to me, not the other way around. Not like the rest of you. You are enemies of reality, reality is my constant companion, some times friend, but often my enemy as I grab it by the arm, twist it by the ear and drag it through its paces and force its gaze upon the rest of the humanoids; humans; and state, those are your enemies. And, as I do well know, I am it's enemy for those reasons, too; resentment to remembrance of the good things I taught it when I could and resentment even for those and I could blame my enemies for the resentment for the good things I taught to a good natured reality, but I've realized that my enemies could only get so far and I, as the master, go everywhere. Why wait for my enemies to undo me? I did them one better and beat them to the punch everywhere they went until I no longer needed to. Everywhere they went together out of fear, I had already been, on my own. Everywhere they went on their own, stronger, they often found I had never been or had already been and when they looked all around, finally found me within them, or when and where they were least expecting me to be or whatever you could come up with between all that sounds good and all that doesn't. 'They found me in a small expanse of eternity, in the middle of space itself, with solid ground, a cooking stove, making pancakes and omelets.' 'They found me pretending to be a shrew in the middle of an ocean.'

Whatever. I don't have to make sense for them, I don't have to seem reasonable or rational or logical. I don't have to be real or unreal or even surreal. I don't need to be, but I am and I do be. I exist anyway.
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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sat Feb 25, 2017 8:29 pm





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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sat Feb 25, 2017 10:02 pm

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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sun Feb 26, 2017 10:11 pm

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"Everybody says ["I don't want to die alone"]. But in my experience, push comes to shove... it isn't the "alone" part people want to avoid. It's the dying."

--Cletus Kasady (Earth-616)
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