Pen-Powered Insanity

Fuck.
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Fuck.


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Because everybody needed a fuckity fuck fuck song.
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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.

I have created a mass symphony orchestra with my two hands. have given rise to every incarnation of immortality within one vessel of mortality, given credence to multiple personality disorder beyond a clinical term used to describe the insane and turned it into an order, minus the dis. I have caused the deaths of countless, caused countless to live lives of meaning only to die all the same by my two hands in the mix. No matter the vessel, no matter the way, my two hands have caused you to live and will cause you to die. Immortality in all its forms is an illusion and all lives are lived to a finish of death because I have willed it. It’s time to up the ante again, up the buy-in rate. Raise the pace of the music to match the cadence of the action. The main attraction has begun and all sideshows are on the lines, popcorn is being served, at nine dollars a kernel. Welcome to Davy Jones’ Locker, where we gamble with our eternal souls. What’s another few centuries aboard the ship of the dead when you could buy your freedom any time you win? Just know that none have truly won against Davy Jones, none have truly won against Death.

Care to answer the Call of Cthulhu? The Dirge of Cerberus? The Requiem of the Dead? Dare you deny it? They say that when the black shadow calls for you, you have to answer it, there is no denying it. Let us play, gentlemen. You are all already in far too deep for your liking and you can’t back out. As for the ladies… There are no ladies here, anymore. might as well be no difference at all between the women and the men when you begin to delve this deep. Let the immortal theatre entertain and distract you from the important things in life until its far too late. Let the devils delight and the demons dance and the angels torture, the gods bow to chaotic decadence, for all must fall down among this dance floor of death to truly know what it’s like to live, and slow they are to fall and slow they are to rise again. in this Dance macabre, we’ll dance like we used to, remembering and forgetting, nothing and everything and in the blend of black and white and colors departed and reintegrated, you’ll know what it’s like to dance with death.

Shall we?

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.

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.

Random Fact

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

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

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.

So, who is the true determiner of what is sane and 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.

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.

It was a play on words based on the video game title Arc the Lad: 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.

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

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.

Just remember that The Devil is only the Prince of Darkness. God is still the King of Kings.

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.



And, fuck off again.

And, you fuck off again too RF :wink:

lol.

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

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.

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.

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.

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

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3khH9ih2XJg[/youtube]

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:

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.

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y7BFOzG5X0Q[/youtube]