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Posted 25 November 2002, 12.54 pm by Jake

Mike picked up the rat by the tail and looked at it disdainfully.
With a snap of his wrist, he tossed it into the glass case.
The snake lifted its head and turned to the direction of its prey. A second passed. Its tongue flicked in and out rapidly as it picked up the scent of the rat.
He heard the sickening thunk and a rustling of wood chips as the boa snatched its prey in its mouth and began to wrap itself around the rat.

Mike turned back to his friend. “Man, I still can’t believe that stupid bitch did that. God, I’m so fucking mad I could kill her and David both.”
His friend glanced at him and softly said; “Well, dude, you don’t need to act with discretion in this case. It’s all her fault anyways. His too, but she could have resisted and remained faithful.”
“No, man, forget that. It’s all said and done, anyways.”
He tried to look his strongest, even though he wanted to explode with rage, cry in shame, wallow in his self-doubt.
“You know, I really don’t know what she sees in him anyways. He’s a total fucking loser with a good job and a nice car.”
“No, no, he’s a total fucking loser asshole with a good job and a nice car.”
“Point taken.”
He turned back to the cage and watched the boa work its way over the rat’s head.
“All this time I worried about what I wanted. I worked so hard to secure things for myself, and in doing that I ignored what she needed. I just…man, I don’t know anymore.”

He tried to ignore the hot tears that were starting to well up in his eyes. He stood up, wiped his hands on his pants, and lit a cigarette. His friend eyed him warily from the couch. “So, what are you going to do? She’s got half of your shit.”
“I don’t know that, either.”
“Well, you need to figure out something. Nothing against you, but I can’t stay here all day waiting on you to make a fuckin’ decision.” He grinned and poked Mike in the ribs.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just….I need some time to myself.”
“Sure thing, man. Just give me a call whenever you get your ducks in a row. I gotta get to work.”
Mike nodded, and slapped his friend on the back.
“Thanks for listening. It always helps to have someone lend an ear.”
“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”
“Yeah. Take it easy and don’t work too hard.” Mike’s friend stepped outside, shutting the door. Mike sat there, in the glow of the heat lamp, watching the snake finish the last bit of the rat.

He got up and walked to the kitchen, pitching his cigarette butt into the sink. It extinguished itself with a slow hissing sound. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and stood there for a minute, looking out his window onto the street below. He sighed, and opened a drawer by his left hand. Withdrawing a bottle of pills, he popped the top and ate five of the little blue footballs. He tossed them down his throat and chased it with the glass of whiskey. The burning sensation rolling down his throat, into his stomach, calmed him. He sighed again, and poured another glass of whiskey, two times more than the next. He downed half of it in one gulp and shuddered from the taste. He refilled it, and walked to the bathroom.
He filled the bathtub and sat listlessly in the hot, steaming water for a while.

Evil Clown Generator!

Posted 24 November 2002, 3.26 pm by Craig

Visit Site.

A Continuing Monologue

Posted 21 November 2002, 2.55 pm by Shaggy

Daron: So where does Truth emerge? I have read so very much about this thing called “Truth”, and yet it seems so very far away, as if it fell into a bottomless pit. Even Christian purity cannot find this Truth, for in the beginning, humans were ignorant. Knowledge is godly and, in our hubris, humans ate of the tree of knowledge in order to be like unto God, and can now have shame.

I have not seen humanity. It is a veiled creature, and deep down in my pit, I am unconcerned but only curious. I have not seen; I have not tasted of this thing called humanity. I have grown up alone, left alone in this dank pit; I have been left alone to my own ingenuity. I am not much more than an animal, not knowing and completely ignorant of the concept of time. I do not even know if I am mortal, or birthed of gods, for I do not even recall my parents.

Was I birthed or simply dreamed?

I do not have any sense of beginning. I am merely trapped in existing, in the middle. I am not sure of my purpose, for without a beginning, I have no end. What is this thing I read, called “existence?” Humans hold such importance to it, for they even have devoted an entire school of thought to this one abstract. Is it consciousness that creates reality, or does reality and existence create consciousness?

Is god within or without?

I once had a dream, that I was a part of the human race. According to this dream, I once had a heart as beautiful as any that could be imagined. I was hopeful, I could love, and I could create. I had flesh and feeling, family and friends. In this dream, I was presented with the abstract of emotions that humans associated with death.

There are so many abstracts tied to both life and death themselves. Much of the human condition can be summed up as excuses to live and reasons to avoid death. Loss, love… all of it is foreign to me, and yet within this dream, I had in my hand all these.

I had connection, somehow. I could feel something for someone else, and yet she was being taken away from me. The sickening tone the clock above her hospital bed made, ticking away and beating its fist against time, is still within my memory. I remember struggling, hoping to find the answer to a question that I regret I cannot remember. She looked at me, and then life fled from her body.

I wake up disturbed. The connection that I feel in dreams confuses me. I cannot quite describe it, and the complex emotional abstracts disappear as my eyes open. At these times, I feel very close to deciphering what these things I read actually mean, to what they pertain.

However, I digress. Perhaps it is, ultimately, folly to understand Truth. Plato states that only in that existence before life can we truly know and understand the Truth. If this is true, than it is man’s ultimate end to return to this world of the Truth, the world of the Real rather than mimesis.

Perhaps, and this thought scares me, but perhaps I must shed my privacy, and step out into the outside world, and see these humans with my own eyes. Perhaps then, I can converse with them, understand what it is that they mean in their writings.

One of my concerns is that these creatures, caught up in their own ends, might not take any heed to my inquiries. After all, human existence is so very futile and busy, though I can never quite decipher what they are busy doing.

I tried once, to venture out of my shelter. I did so at night, crawling up out of this temple that I have always lived in...


Posted 20 November 2002, 2.59 pm by Craig

This is Great!!

Visit Site.

A different look

Posted 18 November 2002, 7.48 pm by Firebrand

stumbled across this doing some research.

Body Ritual Among the Nacirema

Contempt Breeds Familiarity?

Posted 18 November 2002, 7.06 pm by noctornus

I've been sitting in class all day, and I was suddenly hit by an epiphany! I think that it's the sort of realization that everybody has, at some point, often without even knowing that they've realized it. It is taken more as common knowledge, or fact, than as a revelation. It's based on the concept that Familiarity Breeds Contempt.

What is the one thing that everybody, at some time realizes? That they hate their life/job/home/whatever. After a period of time, no matter how much we love something, or love doing something (or somebody for that matter) we begin looking past the fun, the joy, and the enjoyment we get from that activity, and we begin to search out all that is unjust, out of place, or just plain wrong about our surroundings. As much as I was overjoyed to start school again this year, to turn a fresh page in my book of life, I now view it with complete and total contempt. My last two jobs, as much as I loved them when I began, I hated after a few months, and by the end of my shift, you couldn't have kept me there for any reason.

Without a doubt, it is the staleness that comes over our lives when we do not have the opportunity, or desire to try new things, which breeds so much unhappyness. There is not a single member of the akpcep community, who can honestly say that they are happy with everything about themselves, and their surroundings. To do so, is to dilute yourself. There is always something that we despise, and it's usually something that we've been surrounded by for a long time. Almost everybody loves a new school when they start, or enjoy a new job, because it is something fresh, something new, and even though a million other people may be doing the exact same thing as you are, what you are doing is Unique.

I've spent more than enough time in my life, staring at a clock, watching the seconds tick by, hoping that, if I stare a little harder, that second hand will move faster, if even just a tiny bit. I've waited to leave work, school, an appointment of some kind, something. I'm positive that we all have. Really, I'm getting tired of it, tired of watching the clock, trying and hoping that an unpleasant situation will end sooner. I've spent so much time in that place in life, that I've come to despise it. So as a solution, I've resigned myself to stop watching the clock, to stop hoping that an unpleasant situation will end sooner, rather than later. I'm going to start living my life, for what it is, a collection of moments, some pleasant, some not. Wallowing in the moments that bring me pain, or complete and utter boredom are getting my nowhere fast, except possibly into a mental institution.

So I call upon you all, to stop hoping that bad things end sooner, and to stop wallowing in our contempt of your lives, and to breathe a sigh of relief, and say 'Fuck It! I'll be out of this place soon enough, and it's not worth my effort to worry about how much I hate it.' Sometimes it's not possible to escape these situations, no matter how much we may want to, we just have to make the best of them.



Posted 18 November 2002, 1.28 am by Diva

Choices. We all have them, all we have to do is use them. I think the only thing we don't have a choice in is love. After you decide what path you want to take, fate takes over and sometimes you are screwed. It's like a fun house where every room leads you to anywhere but out. Each is designed to make you depend less on familiarity, more on your senses.

The mirror room is the one I hate the most. You have to look at yourself in many different forms, just trying to find the way out. In reality we hardly ever have to endure seeing our true selves. Sometimes that room appears and we have no choice. It can be scary, soul searching, devistating.

Have you ever tried to look back at yourself, as someone else sees you? Did you come to the same conclusion? I looked back at myself last night. I stood in my mental room of mirrors and tried to see what others saw. Some of the images were more closely resembling what they saw than what I would like to admit. Others were simply words that held no basis. You know what the hardest mirror to face is? The one that you see yourself as.

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Something To Write

Posted 18 November 2002, 12.38 am by Arguile

Have you ever noticed how life can never reside at a metaphorical stand-still for too long? Sometimes it feels like my life can never hit a plateau for more than a month; something always has to toss a wrench in the cogs of fate. As a result, few things life brings surprise me, and none can completely astonish me to this date.

I miss the days of childhood, where things never escalated beyond the point of crying to your mother about your scraped knee. Or past the issue of your vocabulary lessons being only 90% correct. Adulthood brings freedoms, but it brings more hassles and worries than we ever imagined as adolescents.

(To prove I'm a nerd, I will now use a Spiderman Quote: "With great powers comes great responsibility")

Which I suppose brings up the great point of the equal ratio of blessings and burdens that being a member of the elitest clique of adulthood brings. Sure, we can buy cigarettes and watch porn legally, but are the blessings we get from our maturity worth bills, and payments, and mortages, and felony charges, or anything else?

My truthful opinion is yes. After the age of 18, you are in control of your life. This may mean that you have no excuses for why you fail, time and time again; this also allows you to do whatever you feel is best with your life. You can disregard ethical bullshit and live off the streets, or you can grow up to be a doctor. Your parents, God, or the Pope himself can't tell you what to do with yourself. YOU lead the life YOU want to lead.

"Life is the most precious gift anyone can recieve." I read that on an obscure poster on a telephone pole during Hurricane Andrew while I was in Hawai'i. I thought it odd how it fitted the moment then, I find it odder how it fits my rantings now.

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In 2018 I started painting again. This was one of a series of acrylic sketches I did to relearn techniques and revisit my skills from art college.

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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!

Yo ! Does this work ?


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