Eternal One’s Journal

Walking down the street I was feeling tears of Hera as fury of Zeus cracks down upon her. It was a relentless, unmerciful torrent of tears which could probably drown the world. Second great flood which will cleanse all the sins, pains and torments from this poor world. I was neither running nor slouching, I was enjoying the rain – like a man who had no problems in this earth and beyond.

And I didn’t of course.

The deal was ancient, a compact which had its roots well before the creation of this universe and many universes. I signed it with my blood… never had any second doubts of any kind. They gave me eternal life and I give them parts of my life whenever they need to change this world’s fate. You see they are both creators and destroyers. Creation and Entropy residing side by side working like two brothers trying to build a tower of legos but one was apt to steal, break and lose the parts. But this… is a wrong allegory for they are not two… but one yet many. I know it sounds too complicated and paradoxical but that’s the way it is.

I had created many wars and unions. I sometimes find myself in another world and time in an instant. The lost time was their time. Troy, Crucifying of Galilean, Crusades, Revolutions, World wars… and of course Reforms, Renaissance, Enlightenment… I was their cause – always working behind the scenes; never tired never hungry and never a pawn of desire.

As if I had any memory of those acts…

Yet if you saw me on the street, now or before or after, walking – you couldn’t describe me except for “He is a man about 25 years of age” and nothing more. Great leaders of any time always recruited me as their aides, paid me salary but they never knew me personally. Even my name was on a banana peel their mind was opt to press and lose it.

City was looking at its best, seductive, sexy and with makeup. Wet streets reflect neon signs, car stoplights and magnesium streetlamps which probably will burn till eternity. It would come stupid to you, maybe, but I am afraid of cities. They look so dead yet alive – so peaceful but in its arteries and mainlines wars were fought, people were dead. Their sanity seems solid in all this concrete and steel and glass yet committing insane deeds was an everyday occurence; people get their kicks by drugging themselves to high heaven and die within in that state like a dying sun or inflicting pain, either on themselves or others… The family man you see in the market, yes with that big grin upon on his face – looking all happy and satisfied who comes to church every sunday praying hail mary’s without looking to the Good Book, probably abuses her wife and children with an intensity only humans can have.

People always blame Devil, eh? Poor old Lucifer Morningstar; he only did what his Lord told him to do. Check your books – first fall has no casualties – no wars no deaths. We started it, whole butchering business. I knew Cain, he was a problem child from the starters. Adam was too passive and Eve was bitching because she caught him cheating on her – this time with a human being, at least; those two child was living in a “dysfunctional family” was what Social Services would probably say if it existed in that time. It didn’t and one died and the other become the first killer and the first one who got away with a prize. I still see him by the way. He had a mechanic shop down in L.A. and wasn’t happy about this life. He hasn’t got any soul and thanks to that he has no other life, not even Hell. That’s why he hadn’t pulled a Cobain. He was paying a great deal of alimony and I fear he had gone a little crazy – seeing all these passing centuries leaves a mark on one.

I unlocked my apartment’s door and undressed. I love being naked, all those ancient tattoos and scars remind me of who I am. The eternal, moving mover. The real director of events. Yet bound by ties which cannot be teared off or hacked away or will probably never get loose. I turned on the TV and let it babble by itself, it’s making background noise which I find comforting. While sliding between silk sheets my last thought before sleeping was one of Pompey’s words, he said those whenever he encountered a problem which boggled him…
“What now… what now…”

Powered by ScribeFire.

Murder Story Part I

Lost in the depths of my anger I was seeing whole world in crimson tones. I did want to rip your face and tuck it down to your “lover”’s mouth. I.. didn’t deserve it, I never deserved that… yet you did – violated my soul, my body, my every cell…

And I’m coming to your house. With a nine rounds of fun all around to spread. Don’t worry it will hurt like a motherfucker. Trent was screaming “Pigs get what pigs deserve” from my overused headphones as I was walking down thru the road. Yeah let me give your lying ass what it deserves.

Door was open I didn’t need to knock or kick it and I found you… flies were feasting on your eyes and your breasts which I had adored so long ago. You and your lover’s body were rigid, forever living an orgasm; with your recently opened third eyes which already filled with worms I presume.

I got out and walked to the street – shaking badly. My mouth was full of bile and I puked in a garbage can which didn’t improved my mood. It seems your little fling had saved my life after all… But my anger was there, it was like a beast tranq’ed, fuzzy, cold but there and whoever had killed you, will receive his due. I lighted a Marlboro and inhaled the steely gray fume to my equally gray lungs. My train of thoughts’ workers was celebrating their union day. Shocked? No… but I was suprised, geniunely suprised in this outcome of events.

You were working for an artificial teeth making corporation. “It’s small time biz” you had said after you quaffed your beer and wanted a teq to go. That evening was destined to go on to morning and we did see it had. “They are exporting stuff after they produce it here.”

Now if it was that small time and honest-to-god business why did it got you killed? Or did it got you killed… I stopped a cab and gave your job’s adress.

After forty five minutes and 40 dollars later I found… nothing. There wasn’t a dental corp working there. Hell there was nothing there. Yeah, the street was true and there is indeed a building with that number on it but it was a barber shop and was that for thirty years. Ok… this wasn’t good. You lied me from the beginning; but that can be forgivable – considering you are dead and all that but being unable to find your, probably, killers… it just fuels my anger with high octane. I had come home, pushed the key to its home and found my door was open too. Yeah what was I expecting?

I peered into hallway, my library was thrown on the floor – some books are ripped from their covers. But there seemed to be no one in there. I wasn’t keeping anything important in my home so I slipped away. I don’t fight anyone who had already set his terms and playing the game by his rules. I promptly went to the bank and tried my ATM card. Money was there and I could get it. So far so good. This means whatever you were involved in wasn’t any governmental biz or all my accounts would have been blocked by now. I cashed all the money out and went to a hotel. I bribed Concergiege a little to write myself in an another name. After taking a shower I felt a little better. Tv wasn’t covering your dead bodies – I wasn’t expecting a full detail graphical goreshow but there was no mention of your name, or your death in that matter. So someone was hushing up. Considering all the events happened lead to two conclusions: A- He was a powerful guy who doesn’t police investigating his ass; B- He knew you and me but I don’t. It was too hard to think sober;  “if you want to get paranoid get drunk” one of my friends told me that while I was studying in university.

I dressed up and went to local booze shop to get myself a bourbon and a tequila. While mixing the magic stuff I wondered. I couldn’t call the cops for a murder that wouldn’t be there by the time they arrived. I may report a break in but that would inadvertedly make me passive in the course of events and thanks to ever present corrupt cops brotherhood among them it would choke and die in the process of Judicial delaying.

After I finished my drinkininage I had found that courage which urges me to go into my room and commit some lead poisoning on motherfuckers who invaded my home, my sanctuary, my brothel even.

I walked casually, like someone who was carrying a Sullivan violation in his sidepocket. I found the door open still; like I left. I kicked the door open, blocking the living room’s door and dived sideways to kitchen while checking the hallway and trying to take aim on any humanoid shape I’ll see. I didn’t see anybody and my shoulder was aching – even under alcohol spell I could feel its moaning. I walked silently, carefully to my bedroom. It was messed up but devoid of any people. So… let’s see if Santa had dropped an early present into my Living room…

I woke up with a terrible – head splitting, eye blackening headache. Ouch… if God popped up right at that moment what I would say to him could only be “I need a tomato juice, a shower and an english breakfast. Urgently” But no, no deity had appeared beside me so I dragged my carcass to kitchen while sworing aloud to anyone who practically fucked my house up. I filled some tomato juice to the cleanest mug I have found and saw its empty end in one breath. Yeah.. bath… shower… it would be good – has to be good dammit. First cold and hot and cold again. My right shoulder’s fashion sense gone towards purple tones it seemed. But my headache was degrading down as dynamic duo made their job.

I was even whistling to some tune while searching for clean underwear and some decent clothes until I heard a throat cleaning voice behind me. Oh shit…

“Great, you literally caught me with my pants down.” I said without turning my back. “Now what, will you kill me like you did on my ex and her new?”
“If I wanted that you would be dead yesterday, asshole. Wear some stuff and come downstairs. We have to talk.” and his footsteps were only thing I heard. I managed to find some clean underwear, jeans and even a t-shirt saying “I love hOOters” I wore my leather jacket and found the luger on its sidepocket waiting for its time to come.

The guy was an official, it was reeking from his ironed suit, his pale glance and his hair which was cut short and has that gray tone of color you see on middle-aged men and his brown eyes had that glint of “I am a killer”. He was standing next to a black car which had tinted windows. Uh-oh…

“Get in” he said as he opened the door. What choice do I had?

Car was a modified Chevrolet Impala. It ate the road like an road obsessive obese. I wasn’t in my best moods. I was hungry, I was caught naked and on top of that these guys look like they didn’t want to kill me.

“Your ex was a dumb cow” was his sense of icebreaker conversation. I shook my head. “Yeah that was what I think of her when I found out she was playing one on me… not to mention other things” He smiled with a razor sharp grin “It seems she has perfected… this to an art form and a business too.” I shrugged, waiting for the main course, “She was a thief. A broker of industrial secrets. She cheated us; we killed her – when we found out.”

Car was content of going straight, I couldn’t see the driver’s face. “Well, what’s done is done. What do you want from me?” I asked nonplussed. “I thought she was some secretary to a dental firm which I recently know doesn’t exist.” “We want you to bring us what had stolen from us Mr. Jacobson. Or cops will find those two bullets came from your gun. Your registered gun which will be found with all the evidence pointing you if you decide to refuse our offer. But of course you are free to choose. I really don’t want to impose that on you.” Aw that’s great… really great. I have to clean your shit after you haven’t I…  “What’ll I do anyway?” He held a black leather briefcase and gave it to me. “All the details are in there. We want this job done in three days.” He motioned to driver and car stopped slowly, near to my favourite café, which I didn’t know intentional or not. I opened the door and got out. “Goodbye Mr. Jacobson. You won’t see me again.” was his last words.

Powered by ScribeFire.

Ode to my old f(r)iends…

Run… run to your safe hideout where you can lie to yourself day to day. Where mirrors show only what you want to see and speakers blare what you want to hear.

Run and lie down you pathetic creature, little human. Where you can huddle with your followers who has nothing to do but hear your words and nod. Nod to hell and back… cos all you got is your prejudices and nothing more. Classify people by how they look – don’t give’em any chance to express themselves – and when it was done unto you, o mighty judge, bicker about it and smear people with shit.

You are full of shit did I ever told you that? You are so full of that, you can blot the world out of whole goddamn Galaxy and beyond. Hell you can even create a ball of excrement in the whole existence.  I hate you for that, I hate myself for subjecting to you and your friends regarding you and them as mature people. My blindness was so complete that when you kicked me of your little pathetic circle of fiends I regarded that as a mistake. I saw you and every flea on your hide in my dreams – in friendly terms. And I desired with a desire that was borderline obsessive.

Thanks to you I saw myself better than everybody else
Thanks to you I saw what a pathetic little whore you are. I was stupid, I didn’t saw that before when you were openly making love with your I-am-a-brit-so-I-must-be-better-than-thou boyfriend who was an alcoholic and a revelling loser. Shit, your very passivity makes me want to puke in the gutter.

You saw yourselves as the true intellectuals of this bloody country and this bloody university but you are nothing, not a blessed or a cursed thing. You are a commoner, a superstitious villager who believes in magic, genies, and all the sorts of metaphysical crap. When you have a bad day you don’t blame yourself, there is always someone responsible – what a relentless never ending enemy supply you have. And all for your precious little gaylord boyfriend.

Die, fuck off to the seven hells and see if I care. That is my testament to you, you poor fuckers. I’d never use you as my asswipe let alone being friends. For what you seek is blind devotion not friendship – if friendship came and spit you in the eye you wouldn’t recognize it for you don’t have any inclination of what it is…

Powered by ScribeFire.

A story

Blood was dripping to the floor… drip… drip… drip… each drip is a tolling of my bell. I don’t care, never cared and probably won’t care any more.

My biggest mistake was taking that red eyed customer into my taxi. I could remember those eyes still – I thought he had bloodshot eyes but thinking now… I never saw his pupils…

“To Scarborough Fair” He said. Wearing a black leather trenchcoat – reminded me of old Columbo series but this guy wasn’t any Columbo.

“Ok, Guv’nor” said I, in that casual way of greeting. Some tourists like it – some don’t but it never hurts to say it, may return you in terms of tips. I think road was empty – deserted, even. But my car trounched those empty streets like a panzer in second world war. Not that fast but determined to go whatever it needs to go.

My customer wasn’t a conversational piece. He gazed into the streets… I doubted even if he did breathe. He seemed so… solid and immovable. Like a statue or (a gargoyle) a gargoyle yes.

“Where are you from, eh, guv’nor?” I asked, hoping to start some sort of discussion to ease away the long road before us. I first thought he didn’t heard me, he wasn’t acting like he heard me. But to my luck, or to my demise, he answered…

“_________” he said. I didn’t understood what he said… a part of me understood what he said but logical part of my mind didn’t comprehended anything but the other part… intuitional part was opt to panic and push the brakes as fast and as strong as it can.

“What?” I… I said. “What did you said?” He smiled… his smile was… like the grin of the lion before it pounces a gazelle or a sheep. “Do you want me to repeat that?” Smile… that smile… “Of course I would repeat that for that is where I come from – where I rule!” His laughter was the one I, you, us heard in the dreams which makes us stand still with paralyze. When you want to run – you can’t and just before you feel those teeth you always woke up. Oh but no, not me, not this time…

I found myself awake in a dumpster near Trafalgar Square. My car was gone, so was my wallet and my all posessions… apart for my memory. I heard mind blocks any thing that’s too terrible to bear… why doesn’t it now? Why? I always see the same dream, same memory over and over again. Yet… I can’t forget…

Except for today…
Hopefully…

Powered by ScribeFire.

Tears Skyward

I’d rather get a cyanide pill and swallow it without any glass of water than doing this… I was talking to myself and that is not good – what is worse is I am threatening myself to kill/suicide myself so it gets rather interesting if you look that situation from an outside perspective.

I was sitting on my chair, closed my eyes and listening to some music my mp3player shuffled upon. It didn’t matter what it was playing – anything would be better than conversing with my classmates who probably got a full speeding vibrator up their asses – collectively. Lesson was wretched – a French guy reiterates Lao Tse’s teachings and calls it a new thing. Hey wake up man, “Tao which can be told by words is not the true tao” written like thousand years ago.

Feeling like shit – hammered shit even. Can’t say why I’m having these mood swings but by the Gods of Nature it leaves me like a harpooned whale on the oil pit. I hate the very existence of spring – it reminds me of my inability to communicate with people. Simple commoners all of them, having basic and noncomplex forms of amusements – mainly sex, football (soccer for you all Brits) and drinking. Which doesn’t excite me… I would be that excited about them if I was shot full of Thorazine.

Powered by ScribeFire.

Reaper

Let’s burn everything, ravish the women and kill the men…

So simple isn’t it? Let me get my chainsaw and we can start saving the world from the obnoxious yuppies, their wannabe’s and all the shitheads that inherit and live in this ball of mudshit.

“Sigh”

So this is me, sitting on my dorm room – listening to my roommate who is busying organizing HURockFest, my university’s rockfest. Finished my translation lesson’s req. So this is good, nyet?

Still I have this feeling of burning this world into very ashes and bathe with them while I breathe my last and laughing my last laughter for my revenge – from this universe… metaphysical and physical…

I hate it… can’t change it and have to live with it…

Why?

Powered by ScribeFire.

Da da da dada da da da…

Today was when the glacial devils from netherrealms hit our campus. Their invincible army of white infantry quickly seized all the land eye can see with their carcass.Not to mention their vast arsenal of weapons inflicting horrible wounds and of course their sole bioweapon F.L.U.

My quest was to survive in this hazardous conditions, go to the lecture and see another day which I did so. Their paratroopers land on me with a speed matching a lightning on steroids and high-meta drugs.

Lecture was good, time slided like a skateboard on ice and I believe I learned a thing or two about Bergson and his way of thinking. But wasn’t I suprised when I learned he had given lectures to French High Society and won a nobel prize with a philosophical book – not with a novel.

After it I marched to my HQ… dodging white s.o.b’s while taking cover and watching my 20-20. By rolling and sidestepping was I succeeded? I’ll never know…

So endeth another day…

powered by performancing firefox

(Near)Digest of today

Opened my eyes into a lethargy which can make elephants sleep soundily near an artillery barrage. Still imperial march was blaring from my cellphone… my lethargy was melted like sundae on a pavement in a desert while making hissing sounds as it evaporates.

Wore my clothes while brushing my teeth – an impressive feat I agree – and while wearing my ripped adidas sneakers and running to the class I was nearly missing with a catastrophic speed.

Cold was cutting my bare skin – bollocks to the global warming I was freezing to my marrows while feeling the wind on my cheeks and my hands. And flames coming under your soles do not warm you. Like any good marine sergeant says “hut hut hut hut” I was climbing the basements with a near militaristic attitude. We shouldn’t be late Gollum Gollum… nah I didn’t say that but I could if I was a darksided old hobbit with an obsessive nature to golden rings inscribed with Mordorean language… (heh wonder what could happened if linguistic professors translate those writings as “With love – Melkor”)

Still I was late by 4 minutes. Not good not good… I want some sort of faster navigation than my mere feet. A Tank or a VTOL capable plane is perfect – send that to Santa Claus if he doesn’t accept shoot him with a sniper rifle using a depleted uranium ammo…

I arrived like a hurricane with a diarrhea. I saw familiar faces which registered in my neurons as “Class-f(r)iends” So I wasn’t late… I had arrived early even. I smiled a maniacal grin which make people near to me back off a lil bit. I was parched… my need for water, not speed dammit! , was like a sailor’s need for women, so I went to the café for a glass of H2O with mineral addition. But I changed my opinion while waiting in a line which was going for a kilometer, turned left and right… was like seeing a boa snake from its backside – so I recoiled with fear and cried “Come! Come my merry men let’s fight, ravish and pillage this eldritch edifice!” if I was a hero of a Conan story…

I went to my classroom which has a clinical quality in it… yeah so sterile in terms of intelligence. I found a seat in the front – like a king’s throne it was coveted and highly demanded and set up the shop… pencils, notebook, my old pda… all set and ready to go.

“Intriguing” it was the word I was thinking when the lecture had ended. So pragmatism defines its terms of good and bad by judging its usefulness to the proverbial “you”. So we can easily defend concentration camps and Doktor Mengele and his experiments. I don’t know about you pardner but I don’t buy it.

powered by performancing firefox

Ignorance and bigotry in Ohio

Neil Gaiman’s Journal – The Last Last Word

America, good old land of freedom, democracy and all that good stuff, right? Well obviously some part of it are not. Enter Ohio where “Christian Coalition” and “local concerned citizen group” want to ban the books which they found offensive.

When I saw the update sign on Neil Gaiman’s journal I wasn’t expecting a censor news – like Neil – I thought that was a disease only us, third world countries, suffer. So it all begins with “disappearance” of certain books about subjects of Witchcraft Sex, Sexual Health and Transsexualism. Yet it was the calm before the storm for after the ALA’s Library of the Year award winner library introduced internet, shit really hitted the fan.

The concerned citizens who are on the punishment list of Library Police got support from, obviously, larger Christian Coalition and dedicated their meaningless lives on harassing the library. I truly wonder what kind of person get his kicks from harassing a library. And let’s do a reality check: This place does NOT serve only as a children’s library and I don’t think any of these books which MIA’ed reside in children’s library branch.

Actually in their spit-foaming rage they seem to invent new words like “Library Porn” and “unsafe for kids”. Yet the “Christian Concerned Citizen Group” had no qualms about sending their children to the library, and let the very “evils they were trying to exorcise” babysit them, while they tried to pull a witch hunt.

Library did what any good institution which has internet problems.They formed an Internet Safety Task Force which was monitoring the net access from and to in their computers. Yet the crusaders in shining armor strike like a righteous lightning unto them… one of the CCCG groupmembers called the local tv stations and started to ask the children about “porns they were finding on the library computers”. But, reasonably, when library staff told him he could not ask the kids about that, he – himself- started to rant a list of sites which indoubtedly contained porn. Which tells a lot about this mob group… If the children hadn’t heard what porn is thanks to their member they had and they now know where to access to this forbidden thing. Bravo!

This same man continued to harass the library by handing out copies of porn he had downloaded and printed from the library entrance; created a website and a newsletter to  “overthrow of the library pornographers”. I mean… who is the library pornographer in this situation?

Yet the CCCG are legion, they began to show up at every library ocassion. Bookmobile locations, other library branches, Library’s board of Trustees meetings… The library had staged a public debate, printed informational materials concerning about internet access policies; they had encouraged parents to go to the library with their children instead of using the library as a creché. After this enormous work they managed the convince many people – although when they sit on the dentist’s chair they were asked why they wouldn’t protect their children or when they were on church they had the gut wrenching experience of sitting through while pastor or priest condemned the library.

Yet they managed to survive. After the CC of CG got distracted by something else the Concerned Citizen Group faded away.

Brilliant isn’t it. Next time let’s burn a newsstand because it sells penthouse to everyone or a radio station for playing mature content…

Technorati Tags: censor, library, ohio, news

Up to date RPG Encyclopedia,

RPG Encyclopedia Entries:

An up to date rpg system encyclopedia with short definitions.

Technorati Tags: role playing games, links