Sitenews Minimize
  • 30/12/18
    Fun fact - AKPCEP has a Google Page Speed score of 100/100
  • 26/12/18
    You wonder how any of this worked in the first place.
  • 13/03/09
    Still here! Please visit the forums and join in the discussions. If you have any questions or comments please contact Alexander.
Link Button Minimize
link to

Use this to link

Valid XHTML 1.0
Valid CSS

Aural/Spatial Interplay

Posted 8 March 2003, 1.20 am by Acheron

Click me!

An intruiging concept and a good stress-reducer.

Ever wanted to be a Cam Whore?

Posted 7 March 2003, 4.24 pm by DemonAnton

Well have you?

Click away motherfucker

Killing Time

Posted 7 March 2003, 12.50 am by Aqua

I was about 13 when my brother died. He was about 12. He died of organ failure in his room in my mother's arms. His whole life was according to my mom, a miracle. It started the day he was born- he wasn't supposed to live past it. After that, he was supposed to die when he was 3, and again at 9. He could never walk, talk, or even eat through his mouth. My mom decided it wouldn't be right to make him live any longer in the pain he had recently found.

But this isn't about my brother. This is about god.

He died in Wisconsin after we had recently moved from Pennsylvania- my home for my entire life until I arrived at that endless land of ice and snow. We moved because of my dad's job. He worked at a naval base with computers. Then they decided to move to Maryland. It was either follow or find a new job. My parents decided to look elsewhere.

After my brother's death, my dad found out his kidneys were failing. One was completely dead while the other was well on its way. It seemed like a great blessing that we just happened to move to Wisconsin- the best place to be for kidney failure patients. However, it still took a year and a half before he got a brand new kidney. Any longer, and he wouldn't have made it.

Oddly enough, just as he got his new kidney, my dad got fired from his job. Another company from Sweden bought out the company and fired half of the workers. It was back to the east coast for my family again, back where we belonged, after Wisconsin's purpose was complete.

Miracles? Coincidence? Fate?

I should mention my family are avid believers in the christian god. I have since broken away from this chain due to various reasons and much to my mom's disapproval. She doesn't believe that I can witness the aforementioned happenings and deny there is any "force" behind them. Honestly, I sometimes can't believe it myself. However, these events, if looked at skeptically, reveal no evidnce of the christian god's handiwork being involved in any way. They could show possible evidence of a "higher power". Sure. But they in no way affiliate themselves with one particular god.

The point is, we will never truly know. We will never know for sure whether it was the christian god behind the bizarre coincidences in our lives, or Allah, or just plain dumb luck.

We will never know.

So why waste time trying to figure out if the bible matches archaeological records when no god is making themselves clearly seen any time soon? Why waste money on an expedition to the far reaches of the earth to find the ark or the lost city of Sodom? It's knowledge that will never be able to be completely confirmed.

This is how I live because of my own experiences. We're never going to know, so I don't bother trying.

We will never truly know until we die.

All For One

Posted 5 March 2003, 9.13 am by The_Roach

I'm gonna take things down a notch here, get a little personal. Many of you may find this difficult to believe, but I don't have a lot of friends. I know. It's shocking to imagine. It must be something about my demeanor that makes me undesireable. The friends I do have, their numbers have been dwindling in recent years for one reason or another.

This isn't a ploy for pity or sympathy. I don't want it, never have. I want to talk about one of my friends here because there's something significant going on in her life right now and I can't tell anymore if it's my place to involve myself in it.

One of the funny things about my relationships with the opposite sex, platonic or otherwise, is that I always seem to find myself becoming attached to their families. I can't recall a girl I've dated where their mothers or fathers haven't had some sort of impact upon me. More often than not, I miss the parents far more than I miss the girl when it's all said and done.

The mother of a young lady I was close to all through high school insists that I come to passover at their house every year, despite not being jewish myself. I don't even talk to the girl anymore. Another girl (who has long since been relegated to the status of acquaintance simply by virtue of never being in contact with her), her mother still talks to me on the phone almost weekly. Checks to make sure that I'm eating properly, that I'm not smoking too much.

Recently, I spoke with an old, very close friend. I have not seen her since the night of my twenty-first birthday over 18 months ago. We've been through a lot of shit together, she and I. A lot of bad relationships, some pain, some suffering. When she walked into my place of work one day after having had no communication with her in nearly three months, all it took was a glance to know that she was pregnant despite being only a few weeks in. That's how close we've always been. It's always been this way with us, only showing up when something important has happened. Sometimes it's only a few months, sometimes it's over a year. I always know that when the shit hits the fan, however, that I can go to her and she'll support me. She can always talk to me because I'm always going to be there.

I spoke to her most recently in mid-February. I try to drop a line every other month or so, just to see if she's still alive. Nine times out of ten, she forgets to return my call. This time, she called back, said it was part of her New Year's resolution to become better at returning messages. That, and her mother has been diagnosed with cancer of the pancreas. Happy Valentine's Day.

It's not fucking fair. Yeah, I know, life's not fair, get a fucking helmet. I know that line. I say it all the goddamn time. It makes me fucking sick to my stomach to think about all the times I've said that to somebody expecting that it'll make some kind of difference. Life's not fair. Fuck life. She may not be any sort of saint, but I can think of thousands of people more deserving of the kind of pain and suffering that this woman is going to go through, and I include myself in that list. The doctors are optomistic about chemotherapy. Isn't that grand? Meanwhile, she loses more weight, she loses her hair and she loses more of the energy and vitality that I have so admired in her despite any of the bullshit life handed her before. And here's life, shoveling more on.

The thing that gets me, the thing I'll be least surprised by when next I see her... it probably doesn't bother her at all. Well, it bothers me.

More likely to follow.

Are you ready?

Posted 1 March 2003, 7.53 am by Acheron

Well, are you?

Vat are you talkin' about?

Posted 28 February 2003, 7.01 pm by Shaggy

March break is here. Oh everyone cheer, because march break is here.

Okay, yeah, I know, I still have 200 pages of papers due at the end of the break. Yeah, I know I still have to manage to job-hunt in Halifax so I can stay with my girlfriend this summer (oh, it will be wonderful if I can see her more than 3 times a year!). And yes, I do also know that I hate travelling.

However, all these things are going to, from now on, be on my own schedule. I do not enjoy the strict scheduling of the day. I do not like it when I find myself using the facilities at the same time each day. I like the anomalies, things like being hit on, growing a beard, making weird, experimental foods, writing...

I am a man of random thought. Satan-monkey nipples. Okay, that just was not funny in the least, but perhaps a few people might not think of me as stale anymore.

At any rate, I am a man without a schedule. I like to operate on my own motivations, on my own discrepancies. I like taking a day off for no reason then I do not feel smart today, I enjoy computer shopping, video games, and other useless tasks that leave me with little-to-nothing more than when I first started.

In fact, it is an idea of mine that human-kind needs wasted time. Think of the most common "down-time" activities: drinking until stupidity, drugs, sex, masturbation, viewing porn, video games... all of these things (at least, if you are cautious) leave you with nothing to show for your time. If you are not careful, granted, a few of these activities could wind you up with pregnancy, venereal diseases, or a host of other negatives, but I do not think anyone would argue that you are being productive in the least in undergoing these things.

So now, I waste time... thinking, reading, and writing. In other words, I cannot get sloshed, my girlfriend's in another city, video games can only occupy me 1 hour at a time, and damn it all to hell, I do not like wasting my time.

Unless its sex. I particularily enjoy sex.

hidden memories

Posted 28 February 2003, 3.39 am by Villager

He sat, shivering on the bathroom floor, crumpled up against the wall. He winced at the pain, and forced himself to lift his shirt up to see if he was bleeding. There was no blood. The only proof of the blows lay in the dark colouration that covered his bones, the bones that were now too scared to move. He closed his eyes once more, trying to block out the light. He thought for a second of try to get to his bed, the place where warmth and darkness were guaranteed. But that would mean standing up and walking, and there wasn't enough life left in his young body to attempt that.

He tried to censor his own thoughts, to run away from thinking. He didn't want to think or to remember. He ached to fall asleep and remember nothing when he woke up. But unlike usual, the pain didn't let him forget. Sharp pangs of feeling interrupted the darkness created by tightly clenching his eyelids. Tears fled down his cheeks, dripping onto his hand. He was old enough to know that crying brought no comfort, but he was incapable of stopping them even if he were to think of doing so.

From the pains in his body grew anger (that would later become hatred), and on this he blamed his ills. Feeling sick, he desperately tried to leave his body. To leave everything he felt and thought behind on the cold, hard bathroom floor, and go somewhere where there was nothing to think about, no thoughts to haunt his heart. He was worried that someone would find him like this, and they surely would if he stayed for much longer. He almost wished they would, the loneliness of his suffering being the worst thing of all. His breathing began to slow, the stress of thoughts slowly falling away. Reprieve came in the form of dreaming, consciousness slipping into numb.

Star Gazing

Posted 25 February 2003, 11.29 pm by Strawberry

What is this feeling deep inside?
As I gaze at the starry night
Why do I have this want, this need
To go and meet that starry light?
I have no cause to want to leave,
No reason to go away.
I have everything I could ever need.
Why would I want to go another way?
My brother’s wife is with child,
My parents have been married for years.
I have never been rebellious or wild,
I have never seen anybody’s tears.
My life could be no sweeter
I have a loving man to be with me,
I am blessed by dear Demeter.
And yet…still…what can this be?
As I look at those twinkling stars
I feel this hole inside
I feel trapped and behind bars
These feelings I cannot push aside.
I now know what I must do
After countless debates in my mind
I know not where I shall go to
I’m leaving blind.
But this much I’m certain,
I must get out of this place
To this life I’ll draw a curtain
No one shall see these tears on my face
I must go now, and journey forth
To where, I shall not know
Whether east, west, south or north…
Wherever the wind shall blow.
My departure leaves me with deep sadness,
As I don’t know when we shall meet again.
But please, towards me hold no madness.
For you shall always be in my heart, my friend.

Archives: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94

Submissions Minimize

0 Articles awaiting authorisation

Users Online Minimize

Members: 3 Guests: 132

Art Collection Minimize
Click for larger image

Doggybag/baggy_dog is an artist living and working in Barga, Italy. Click here to read about this piece in his own words.

Chat Minimize

Props to Green Mamba for bringing the weirdness


80s candy bars were pretty good

only because i traded it for a candy bar in the 80's.

lol we all know you don't have a soul ghoti

my soul for some carbs...

But of course!


If you wish to help AKPCEP grow, please use PayPal.
RSS Newsfeed:
Articles posted are copyright the respective authors and may not express the views of All other content ©Alexander King 2001-2019. ver 4.0
This page was built in 0.0169 seconds