Pen-Powered Insanity

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.

Meskeetors minions continue to plague me as I continue my expedition into the land known as ‘Florida’. The wounds and indignities I received in Louisiana are added to as Meskeetor sends the worst of his agents of discomfort and displeasure against me. More and more my body becomes their graveyard with no one to mourn their passing; my hands becoming the brutal instruments of their untimely demise. I am not a buffet table Smorgasbord for them to feast and gorge upon! My body is littered with itchy bumps that I cannot resist scratching and some have turned into open sores and still they keep coming at me. I can find no rest nor relief and my own people are too busy fighting amongst themselves and making life harder on each other to really combat the true threats around them; threats such as Meskeetor and his forces have become. It is muggy and I am weary, but I must continue lest they feast upon me unto my death and cause me to become yet another casualty in this horrible war. If I perish, do not seek to avenge my death; at least not alone. Their numbers are far too vast just in these small parts of the world and you would need to raise an army to make any sizable dent in their numbers. Sadly, our armies are much too busy fighting wars over stupid things instead of facing such deadly threats to our comfort such as Meskeetor.

All mosquitoes must die.

I wonder how long it will take for me to push enough power-abusers, power-hungry, greedy and selfish people over the edge. I wonder how long it will take to exact the perfect vengeance in such a way as to leave enough of society intact to carry on into the future with a rightful ruler. Civil war has become a state of living covered with countless layers of ‘everything is alright’ and ‘mind your own business’ and ‘do this and we will destroy everything you love and care about.’ I am sore tired of others being able to say and do what they want in tear-you-down fashion, doing nothing constructive or productive, but if you do the same to them except with hopes of better, you’re faulted and punished instead. I’m sore tired of being the hero-made-criminal, the rebel that is the constant example to all others who might take a stand against; sore tired of it all being one way and not the other with only one place to go to where I can actually be free to respond the way that nature intended: here.

I am a social-engineer, an architect of great design and my work of the past 5 years will soon take more of a hold on society as, bit by bit, I whittle and chip away at all that is wrong and dance this dance of death in macabre fashion. I’ll continue to face superior odds, I’ll continue to keep strong, I’ll continue to do what I’m doing knowing that it’s all that I can do and the best that I can do and the right thing to do, even if it means and spells negative consequences and reactions to my self. If no one acts, if no one dares, we will never see better, never earn better, never deserve better and these foul charlatans and pretenders and connivers will not simply let us that are good and righteous to simply have power to use responsibly, they won’t roll over and give up the power that they hate one moment and love the next as they care little about the effect they have on others.

I’ll stare death in the face, knowing what has happened to past freedom fighters, even to the most recent; what has become of past philosophers and great people of insight, reason and wisdom as they fought and wrestled mentally and spiritually with tyrant and scoundrels. Every bit of my life spent in hardship is just another added layer of strength to what I do and what I’m about. Somethings got to break, somethings got to give… and it’s not going to be me.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son for them to murder and place all of their sins upon him so that they could have immortal life through blood sacrifice. And then, God began to hate the world.

LISTEN TO THE TRUTH< GOD DAMN IT!!! SEE IT BETWEEN THE LINES WRITTEN!!! DISPENSE WITH THE IGNORANCE AND STUPIDITY AND THE BULLSHIT!!! And, while you’re at it, go fuck yourselves, you sick motherfucking pieces of fucking shit. Thank you and have a nice day. I hope I’ve served my purpose as entertainment in your Colosseum of Depravity.

Bring it on. Nothing to live for, nothing to die for and an eternity of suffering to match this life of Hell I lived while reaching for Heaven.

I’d come for you but you’d like it too much while shaking your head “no I don’t.” And your last avatar was not the HBO original Spartacus…no!

:handgestures-thumbupleft: Like your sig. pics.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spartacus:_Blood_and_Sand

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andy_Whitfield

That was the one I intended to get. I realize that you’re right. Do you feel better about being right on such an inconsequential matter? Do you feel better about arguing about it? Why don’t you fuck off.

I find your anger thrilling. But if I am too whatever, too much that threatens you, okay. I enjoyed shaming you, yes.

Stars…hmmm, you’re right, touche. I like being so wrong sometimes too.

You didn’t shame me and you didn’t even come close to threatening me. Know that if you had, given my personality and temperament, that I would have admitted it truthfully. That is the bonus of telling the truth consistently; that what you say and do becomes marked by truth in such a way that people can not deny. Even if you were to choose to lie after following that path for a while, people would know it; other things would push it out even if it was an inconsequential truth, would push it into others awareness. I’ve had some very petty and vindictive spirits do this to me on quite a few things and then tried to cover up the truth in the mind, to prevent it from being shown just to show the one thing they wanted shown; out of context for me to be judged unfairly by others and to discredit me just the same as people in politics and life seek to discredit others. Sleight of hand, diversion. Please focus on their faults instead of where they overcame their faults, please focus on their faults instead of mine, I am faultless and they’re wrong and I’m right without any actual truth to the statement, but don’t focus on what is in my left hand as my right hand waves in front of your face, drawing your attention and definitely don’t pay attention as I palm it and then slip it up my sleeve so discretely and please, pray-tell, do not pay attention to the fact that this is just a trick, an illusion and not the real magic you thought it was.

holding a mirror in front of RF and occasionally wiping his spittle from it Stop addressing me. This is my last post in your threads and stay out of mine.

Fuck you. I read threads that interest me, if I disagree with a point someone makes, I say so and why and if I feel that someone is being a stupid little shit or a fucktard, I say so and don’t beat around the bush. You can hold that mirror in front of me all you want, but I don’t pretend to know all that there is to know, do constantly state that I am still learning and growing and wish to have actual conversations with other real people who can admit to the same who might have ideas different than my own and am obviously on a current path of learning about the world around me in all of its intricate majesty.

I’m also in the process of cleaning up shit stains like you. It’s a thankless job that nobody wants to do but somebody has to do it.