Archive for February, 2002

potential…

Monday, February 18th, 2002

this is a dumping of excerpts that i just added. now that i have that out of the way it’s time for a little rant… nah, just kidding. i’m too tired to bother today. but if i was going to rant it would definetly *not* be about work…

one of my many ongoing projects is a novel (though i hardly have a rhyme or reason at this point). this incarnation of the project has the possibility to be an epic. essientially a partial rewrite of the bible with the addition of why god made humans. the main characters include job (my favorite biblical mishap), lucifer (the misunderstood angle) and human kind (as the collective). much of the novel is a replay of the bible in “present” times playing into my ideal of godly design.

i am leary of creating an outline here because i don’t want to confuse the issues and… well, i’m still trying to figure it out myself.

excerpts:
a bit of lucifer. i’m trying to give him a more “human” personality. he’s just trying to help out.
i read a lot of sci-fi, especially the hard variety. i keep tossing around adding that edge to it but i don’t want to use it to explain anything. it will be used (if i use it at all) as filler and scenery.
writing in a more film noir-ish style with a bit of action, this was another atempt at creating a feel for the book.
the largest in the first bunch, this is a more natualistic approch to it. this is the easiest method for me… crap.

a day job

Monday, February 18th, 2002

4:31 am tuesday morning…

i’m awake and no one cares. so, i’ll get up. i’ll take my shower, brush my teeth and scratch my ass. three little blue and white gelcaps, two more than i should have, and a sip of yesterdays coffee. i think about brushing my teeth again, but i worry about my gums bleeding. up for fifteen minutes and i already have morbid thoughts about my teeth.

teeth. it’s not like i’ve ever had perfect teeth in my life, but i dream about them each night. each night they get looser and looser. they move more and more in my head as i tongue them. each one turns a different color as i have a putrid rainbow of a smile. diseaseing my gums and the rest of my mouth while my tounge looses the abuility to taste all but my own blood and rotting bacteria making cheese out of my enamel.

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film noir-ish

Monday, February 18th, 2002

having just fallen into an alley out of the second story window of a random building in a random dirty city, i was not too much in the mood for divine revalation. then again i was thanking god –or any god for that matter– that there was a nice heaping pile of trash for me to land on. “fuck me,” i said while picking bananna peels out of my hair. their shouting had started to fade as i slowly edged my way out of purtid garabage bags and broken bottles. unfortunatly, as their shouting got quieter, thier footsteps were getting louder. so, it was back into the crap for me.

“he had to have come out back here.”

“but did he go up or down?”

“i doubt he’d go up, not like he could get off the roof with us down here,” and he stepped around the corner, his bulk casting even more darkness into the already black alley. while i was burying myself deeper into the trash pile, i could tell… i could tell… oh shit, what could i tell? all i knew is that i really didn’t want them to find me. i mean hell, they were worse than the mormans. that little voice in my head told me that these guys were up to no good. the first one, the large one with the fat face and the uni-brow struck me as the purse snatching sort. while the other one was the most absurdly calm and normal person i had ever met.

“shh… i think i hear him,” said normal guy as he sowly worked his way through the shadows of the alley with his flashlight. “if he came out of the windows up there, he would have fallen straight down. he’s probably out cold.”

lucky for me i wasn’t but i knew i was stuck back here until they left. as deep as i could go without making any more noise all that was uncovered was half of my right eye. i hoped that the flashlight wouldn’t shine too brightly off of it.

sci-fi job

Monday, February 18th, 2002

they told me i was one of the lucky ones. as i see it, i don’t think that i was. of everyone frozen back in those days only 15% were recovered to a fully functional state, which was a pretty loose term. as for the rest, again the lucky ones died during the freeze. the rest were braindead from decades of cold dreams.

so, they tell me i’m the lucky one. all that i have from them is enough credit to get a transport and an id card. the cerdits slide into the trasport and i begin to weave in and out of traffic, the computer controled flow coreoghraphed by a distant computer always keeping above it’s i centimeter proximity tolernace level. i pass through an intersection without even slowing as a car coming from the right and i cringe. my yesterday didn’t alow for such things. the id has already been tossed in the disposal, i know that it meant to comfort the old ones from a bygone era as i finger the insicion healing on the back of my arm.

nothin lucifer

Monday, February 18th, 2002

i’m lucifer…

now before you condemn me, know that i am the good guy. all this time, i’ve been accused of dragging the rest of you down. bullshit! i’ve been trying to to raise you above the rest. i know what’s going on and i’m not willing to ignore it. those funking angles point their fingers at me. they say its all my fault. trite bastards. they bask in thier own glory while he plots the end. they would be pleased as shit should it all end.

oh, i’m sorry, this all just gets me so depressed. afterall, i care.

i wuv u…

Thursday, February 14th, 2002

this is for her. it’s not very punk, but i guess thats what makes it punk. for those that don’t know me and have stumbled on to this sight, she turns me into a fucking girl. get the fuck over it!

chika,

i love you. how much simpler can i say that? i &heart; u. [i know… that doesn’t work.]

so, because i can’t go the simple route, i will have to resort to the more complex. long winded and whimsical.

i love you. i think about you more that any other thread in my multiprocessor of a mind. you can cause more system crashes and memory leaks than any other virus that has ever been inserted, violently and against my will [or should i say better judgement…], into the kernel of my heart. you have resisted all attemps of my rational and complex disinfection. in fact so much of my core processes have been taken over that i am no longer myself as i was. for the past year you have worked you way past my black ice firewalls, broken my encryption method and stolen the rsa keys to my .heart.config file.

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from the… palm?

Monday, February 11th, 2002

selected tidbits ripped from an archived database of my now stolen (god speed wherever you are!) palm handheld. while these are only a fraction of what was there, these are the fav of the bunch. so, fuck off!

<palm name="algore">
i am al gore, kill a fetus, save a tree!
i am al gore, i subjigate the bastions of democracy!

i am a tall white man, i used a big word, call the cops!

-a very drunk hick yinzer hippy outside harris after being kicked out.
</palm>

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