Pen-Powered Insanity

but at least I’m not depressed because my family fucked me over and my friends started treating me differently because I was homeless and going through some ‘changes’ based on what I was experiencing in the mind, which seemed completely sane to me and them both and I’m not depressed because they lied their fucking asses off about it all and I’m furthermore not depressed because I’m homeless and free from that blackhole I was stuck in most of my life. Thank God for that.

fucking shitfuck motherfucks.

This post made me cry. You seem like you have a feminine mind. So I am still a psychopath, but, odd as it is, I do have feelings. Normally I dont cry, even at movies at funerals, but for some reason, I did here.

You know… I’m really getting to hate that shit. All people have similar minds, whether male or female. Only the expected norm changes the perception and people lie out their fucking asses. All men think like I do, to some extent, no matter if they go their whole life believing otherwise simply because nothing has ever made them realize it. Women are just as able to have a ‘male’ mindset as men are to have a ‘female’ mindset. It’s all psychological bullshit that is society-enforced.

facebook.com/BlaineLarsenMu … 465182289/

People don’t really know what it truly means to be THE King of Kings.

They must just think the title contrived or think along faulty lines that only means certain kings, but even the Kings of horror and darkness must bow and pay homage to their King.

I’d like you to meet some very dear friends of mine:

I have many friends of the Light, as well; but I like my friends of the dark, as well.

Random,

:happy-smileyinthebox:

Feel like I need to go to that Facebook link just above a few posts, but not going to sign up on Facebook. No can do! Facebook is evil. It takes the important things you have to give in earnest and Facebook exploits your yearning soul to no end!

…And that is different from the rest of society and what people say about everything, how?

Wow, you stumped me on that one. Thank you! I’ll answer your “how?” when I feel raw again.

I suppose I should stop holding my breath in anticipation of a quick return to you being ‘raw’.

There’s a little place in the heart that I love to be
just a little place, but it’s large enough to me
a place that I call ‘home’
and carry everywhere I go
Every place I’ve been has been sadly lacking
so many elements of life and love, hate detracting
so many closed hearts and minds
are found, time after time
out of rhythm, without rhyme
becoming things mechanical
a little less ‘real’
day by day more structural
as others’ joy they try to steal
and make their own

Those tired and weary to the bone
must find ways to relax and rest
while anxious stress puts them to the test
to be more than another, the best of the best
driven by societies demands
as even reality must bow to ‘the man’

I want to go away
somewhere far, to enjoy the day
find some way to escape
as they try to enslave
I want to slip out
go from this world of doubt
to another where peace can be free
from this devastating mockery

Somewhere where man is still animal
running barefoot through the world
somewhere where a lazy day or two
will not be held against you
I’d like to escape to something simpler
where the complexities of evil do not deter
the learning of the complexities of a good-willed universe
but, there’s a place in the heart I carry
as home I take everywhere with me
a place prepared and fought hard for
through strong will preserved
as through adversity we persevere
if only I could blind and have the world slip away
close my eyes to dream and wake up in a different place

Then I could be ‘Human upon the wind’
‘Human of the sky’, flying through the open
‘Human of the grass’ running through the plains
or ‘Human of the trees’, where so many animals play
‘Human of the Earth’ in caves so deep
‘Human of the Sun and Moon’, dancing and laughing
somewhere far from here, where ‘they’ve’ yet to appear
and, for a time, enjoy again a heart and soul so pure and clear

Random,

Why? That’s what I keep asking myself about your “how?” Why do I not have an answer for you yet?

I feel you pouring so much of yourself into what you express (Thank you. I feel privileged to get a sense of you- the good, bad, ugly, and the beautiful. You feel honest, raw, with a tender mix of hope and hopelessness.), I worry that I may disappoint you which would bother me and then there’s that volatility in your responses, frankly you intimidate me.

Just thought you should know that I realize it’s on me to grow more, give more. May I have a pass on the “How?”

My question stems from the fact that you said what you said ironically and sarcastically while I made a genuine point from it in the guise of a serious, yet rhetorical, question. The question answers itself just like the sarcasm itself is an answer and added to the answer of the question I asked, thereby being ‘it’s not’.

The question I have now (which is the question I refer to by ‘My question stems…’, that start of this post) is, do you prefer chocolate chips or blueberries in your pancakes?

Random,

Every word I have written as of late has been true. Sarcasm is not a preferred mode of mine while communicating who I am and what I am about in someone’s thread. When I reach out to people wherever they are in their head/heart space, I am sincere in my attempt to articulate my best self through thoughtful, compassionate, humorous, honest judgement calls.

Facebook is evil, evil like the money it makes at it’s subscribers expense. All money making schemes are evil. You can call my assessment a play on the ironic and sarcastic, and perpetuate a narrative behind it which is all you. Continue as you were. Sorry about the intrusion.

You’re full of shit.

They made it personal
they should’ve never done that
taken everything but my heart and soul
destroyed, even, the things I didn’t have
as, more than me, they tried to kill

they made it personal
but it’s not revenge that I seek
they tried to steal what was real
drove me down as I tried to break free
to make me into their next meal

they made it personal
they should’ve never done that
as we drifted through the world surreal
they had me pinned to the wall by the flat of my back
now they have to contend; have to deal

They made it personal
took everything and destroyed me
came to devour my heart and soul
but found something more than me
they found the unbreakable

They made it personal…
They should’ve never done that.

They told me it was impossible
I laughed in their face
they hurt me, but couldn’t seem to bust my bubble
which might’ve been my saving grace
never mind what ‘it’ was
they said a lot of things
as I proved them wrong, I caught a buzz
and I couldn’t stop once I learned their game
~
I’ve made the impossible possible
overcame and made the improbable probable
made my claims and tacked them to my name
much to their shame, my growing fame
lit a fire under my own ass
learned a lot about tact and class
as I rose to the top to become indomitable
the hero; the rebel; the unstoppable
~
I tore haters to shreds with just my words
as my nouns and verbs became my swords
to rip’em to shreds, slice’em to pieces
cut them down like they liked to do to their own species
these envious and jealous hateful villainous hellions
screaming and spraying sly and crafty vehemence
crafting lies to keep the good ones down
until I came alone; the hero prophet clown
~
As much as they ripped into me
I ripped into them and came into being
as much as they broke and they grabbed and they choked
never could they stop the words that escaped from my throat
always getting back up; casual Friday to business-suit Monday
the devil that plagues, the curse that stays; God incarnate in his hay-day
~
I am the monster that they made me to be
never expected me to succeed, to supersede
to passed them by, they wanted me to bow and scrape
all my talents, abilities, for their whims as they raped
my body, spirit, mind
Time after time
~
But I made the impossible possible
overcame and made the improbable probable
they couldn’t see how the ultimate winner was me
from politics, math, science; culture; to the ultimate philosophy
the more they tried to bury me alive and forget
I’d crawl and scrape my way back to the light of it
they’ll never destroy my loving mercy and forgiveness
they blew it, didn’t have enough in’em; they had their chances
~
I showed them for what they were
argued and fought until they lost their nerve
watched them as they tried every trick in the book
a thousand times to one, every hook and crook
they came at me until they had nothing left
all while I waxed reason and waned common sense
insulted them and gave as good as I got
then gave better instead of leaving them to rot
~
I broke them psychologically
gave them cause to question their spirituality
made it hard for them to come at me physically
all due to strong mentality
I fight to make the world a better place through social harmony
didn’t come here for greed; it ain’t about the money
see me rain down and give all that I’ve got freely
and only ask for enough to see me through to the end of my body
~
because I made the impossible possible
overcame and made the improbable probable
they couldn’t stop me, couldn’t bust my bubble
they tried everything, gave me every trouble
until I learned to clear the hurdles
til the end of my days, they’ll try in every way
to bring me back down; to kill me; all because I dared to beat their game
all because…
~
I made the impossible possible
overcame and made the improbable probable
gave others hope and inspiration
that they could reach for and grasp their freedom
that they didn’t have to bite their tongues and swallow their words
that they had every right to stand up and defend the best of the living universe
cause we know our lives are faulty and fucked up
and society tries to bitch-slap us every time we buck up
but I…
~
made the impossible possible
overcame and made the improbable probable
and my enemies are legion, ever-swarming
from all over creation to bar my passing
making use of every bit of ‘forbidden knowledge’
watch’em, catch’em, as they become so obvious
devious cunning to make evil look good and good look evil
so I broke’em, destroyed’em, scared’em all
got’em on the run
and I Am the loaded gun
as Nature unloads and has fun

Survival of the fittest
but why is survival so important?
what are we surviving and surviving for
when living life becomes and unbearable chore
as spoiled children complain that they’re bored
survival of the most able to adapt
but adaptation has fallen flat
when they refuse to question the ‘facts’
as presented by a faulty society
that has lied and cheated throughout its history
and isn’t that the ever-living mystery?
Where and when we came from and how’d we get here
to where are we going from there
but everyone just blankly stares
or cuts you down in one way or another
when you begin to ask the questions that matter
living lies that, to them, deepen the mystery of history
but truly opens it up and exposes the truth, realistically
and what does future/past matter compared to the present
shouldn’t that take the position of most importance; prominent precedence?
people so bored and complacent that they cause the problems
that stirs the shit that disturbs the peace that could exist
but run from the wars that occur as if they didn’t add to them
in some way enable the causation and act of’em
running from responsibility and refusing to let the responsible lead
I think sum up perfectly, all of history
and where are going tomorrow except to something better, hopefully
but more of the same is still far more likely
as we raise our kids in the thickets of concrete jungles
as our worst animals juggle and bungle
the competing demands of our eternal struggles
ignoring reason and common sense and good wisdom
except to concretely fight against it
their ‘annoying’ unwanted burden
as they try to be free from the consequences
of their eternally infantile actions
and condemn the reactions
label’em as a disease or a sickness
and cover the pot as the caustic mixture thickens
becomes volatile and they blame the responsible
call them vile names, call them reprehensible
all while they try to avoid the war that’s bound
and wonder why they just can’t keep down
the ‘bullies’ that they bullied first
and called the worst of the worst
but to whom they turn to and expect
to serve them and then protect
from the consequences of their own actions
and that’s history, that’s the mystery, how the magic happens
that causes righteousness, balance and discipline
and every bit of spirituality and religions
what they hate and fear, secretly they revere
and then question centuries later
as generations pass to generations
as children give birth to children
adult-children questioning the God(s) their own people created
only to have another one rise to remind them
that they aren’t just imagination, just great men and women
with their stories passed down and embellished
by countless lovable idiots
with all of the world created by men and women
coming from the mind upon demand
culture paints the problems that many refuse to confront
until someone does come along; does rise up
that sees it all for what it is and tries to fix it
to clean up the mess left by their lovable idiots
and be hated for it
by the jealous and the envious
to know that they’ll also lie to the future
embellish certain things and hide others
somewhere along the way from here to there
until history repeats again in one strain or another
as the truth is covered and smothered

Upon leaving New Orleans, I surprised to be beset by an old nemesis of mine. The vastness of his increased resources took control of the situation before I truly realized the horror that was soon to be set upon me. Where, before, I had been able to laugh at Meskeetor and his paltry troops, it seemed as though I had stumbled into a secret fortress of his and found that I had vastly underestimated the resourcefulness of my foe and his strength of numbers, which outnumbered the stars in the sky. Each one was literally out for my blood. I fought as valiantly as I could, but for each one that I killed, at least ten more sprang up and as I would look in one direction, they would come at me from another, inflicting wound and indignity after wound and indignity until, finally, I had to relinquish my position many times over until I eventually found myself safe enough from the malice of my nemesis. Between the muggy heat and the wounds inflicted, discomfort and displeasure reigned high over me, making sleep and comfort an impossibility within the vile lair of Meskeetor, causing me to stumble on, weary and uncomfortable until I was finally free enough to rest and recover some of my spirit. I do not remain unchanged by this, I have become a walking graveyard for Meskeetors’ forces and am covered in blood and I am not sure if it is mine or theirs. It is both. Damn Meskeetor. Damn him to Hell.