Celebrating The Life Of Sara

 

I was too afraid to speak up at your memorial so I wrote this for you:

I didn’t know you that well, Sara, but everyone’s stories helped me piece together an idea of who you were. So many people care about you. You were always out there meeting new people who automatically became friends with you. You taught me that being dark isn’t as powerful as being an angel. I wanna be just like you. Friendly. Loving. Positive. And everything else wonderful that made you who you were. I wish I got to know you better. I’m glad I got to find out as much as I could from the people’s lives you touched. I hate myself sometimes for joking about death and suicide. I’m sorry that my dark humor is the only thing keeping me from falling apart. I tend to overlook other people and assume that I’m the only one who hurts. I always wonder why not many people pay attention to me or why their faces never light up when I walk into a room. Now I understand it’s because I don’t put myself out there in the community like you did. You were amazing! You went to so many events to spread awareness and even spoke in front of politicians about mental health equality! You always smiled so I never thought you were going through so much that you would end your life the way you did. You once told me that you were fascinated with how I am. But now it’s easier to admit that I’m fascinated with how you were too. I can never be nearly as caring and kind to people like you used to be. I have been hurt by others so many times that I tend to put my earbuds on just to have an excuse not to hear them. I drown the world out with music. Now, I feel like all the emotions I have repressed for so long are spilling out like a tsunami. It’s unbearable. Why did you die and not me? I know if I continue to remain the same, I will continue to miss opportunities to know other aspiring people like you. I doubt my memorial service will be nearly as populated as yours were when I die someday. So one of my new goals in life is to positively affect so many lives that people will care enough to love me the way they loved you. You will be missed and it was a pleasure meeting you, my dear.

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Sara was even on TV making a difference in this world for the better.

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(From left to right: me, Lyne, Sara, and Caspian) At last year’s Toivo’s ProHealing Festival

 

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To Each His Own

To each his own. At one point in American History, black people were considered 3/5 of a person, women were nothing without a man, and gay marriage wasn’t legal until recently. So what stops anything from becoming the norm? Nudists or polyanimous marriages or even a utopian society can become the norm someday. Whether we’re alive to witness it happen or not is completely irrelevant. I’m miserable, but who honestly gives a fuck?

Hello to my unique fallen angels! I am so miserable. For a long time, I thought my misery stemmed from my ex or my past family drama. However, I forgave all of them a while ago. I’m indifferent towards them. I don’t even care enough to hate them or hold grudges against them. I get it. I don’t really have any family left. My ex moved on from me. It’s fine, really. This misery I feel is something totally different. You see, I’m a very simple man. As long as I have a roof over my head, food, clothes, and an ambience of safety, I’m good. I don’t care about name brands or what people think about me. Everyone is dealing with their own internal struggles. I go to college, work, the gym, and church but I don’t feel like anything I do amounts to anything truly important. I don’t feel inadequate though. My IQ is in the 140s so that’s not bad at all. I’m starting to think maybe life is too easy. That the “luxurious things in life” are just extra. As long as I can pay my bills and have some money left over to try to cheer myself up, I’m okay. I’m so bored with my life. I have been putting myself out there more and maintaining friendships yet it’s only a fleeting happiness that merely comes and goes without my consent. I am so miserable that I’m becoming physically sick.

I tend to compare myself to Ernest Hemingway a lot. A very intelligent man who was so intelligent that he couldn’t find the means to feel understood and couldn’t connect with other people. He ending up dying by his own volition just like so many other brilliant minds. They say humans are social creatures. Human nature doesn’t exist. There are two sides of me constantly upset with one another. One is like “what’s the point of interacting with other people outside the realm of vested interest?” While the other half is like “people bring out the best in me so why don’t I surround myself with them as much as possible?” I tend to see it so black and white.

I actually got offered to do drag again for this Thursday coming up but I’m not as excited as when I started doing drag. Perhaps the feeling will come back when the moment comes and goes.

I don’t know. I don’t understand how I can make people care about me. I don’t get how anyone can have time for anyone else. We’re always working or busy doing something or sleeping so how does one form a meaningful connection with another person? Do I even care? I must if I’m asking. Life is dull and lonely. It may just be my personal experiences but I notice that no matter if someone has a lot of money or not, or if someone has a lot of friends or not, or even if someone is famous or not, everyone is suffering one way or another. There’s no need for jealousy. Maybe this human life is a mere preliminary of something far more greater. Heaven and Hell? Something else? I don’t know… who the hell does?

I live my life utilizing superlatives and generalizations to indulge in my self-loathing. I find myself being void of all emotion – the good and the bad. I don’t care enough to hate anyone and love is too hard to come by. I do honestly believe that I felt happiest when I was with my ex-fiance. I hope he’s okay. I hope my mom’s okay. Despite everything, I’m indifferent. It’s hard to explain the feeling I’m trying to convey right now in this post.

No two people can ever have the same human experience. Our five senses of exceptionally unique. I believe that is why everyone has a different favorite food or color or kind of music (etc.). Each person garners a completely unique human experience. So what does it matter if I try to express my feelings for anything? We only blog to vent or to promote while only interacting with other blogs to better our own blogs. Hedonism and selfishness at its finest. No one likes to admit that they primarily do things for their own vested interest.

Loneliness is a state of mind, not of matter. No matter how many other people I try to be around or parties I attend, it’s all the same. This chronic loneliness is becoming a medical condition. I don’t care. Sometimes I think to myself that if I was diagnosed with cancer today, I would be relieved. I don’t fear death. I have tried to kill myself over a dozen times in my life but obviously I’m not good at it. So I gave up on giving up. I’ll just go through the motions, the ebb and flow of life. Whatever happens happens. I don’t care.

Perhaps God doesn’t exist after all. What a horrible thing to say considering that I got baptized just a few months ago. I know things can always get worse regardless.

I don’t get why so many people judge each other on their sexual orientation or religion or race. Who gives a fuck?

Who says I have to be diagnosed with major depression? A doctor that never been through it themselves? What if I’m the messiah or if I’ll be the first person to answer life’s questions? Or what if I’m just another person living in this world until Death comes to take me somewhere better and new?

Whatever anything ever is, simply is. So thanks for lasting this long and have a wonderful day! Over and out.

Let’s Be Negative Again: Nothing To Lose

Hello to my fallen angels! I love The Hunger Games series! Johanna Mason reminds me a lot of myself. Cute but crazy. My favorite quote by her from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire=

Katniss, Peeta, Finnick, and Beetee stare bewildered at Johanna for flipping out in the arena where President Snow can see.

Johanna: spoken softly “What? He can’t hurt me. There’s no one left that I love.

This quote really spoke to me. I lost my family, the one man I truly loved, and I grew apart from all my friends. There’s no one else in this world that I love. I have nothing to lose. I’m a force to be reckoned with. I’ve been homeless before and I’ll endure it again if i ever have to once more. I’ve been abused psychologically, physically, spiritually, verbally, sexually, and emotionally. I’m well aware that things in my life can ALWAYS get worse. There’s an animalistic side of me that currently lies dormant within myself but I can shake it awake at any given time. I don’t fear death because I have been suicidal the majority of my life. I can’t wait to meet the Grim Reaper but I guess it’s not my time to go yet. Apparently, God wants me to suffer a bit more before I perish. This is the worst time for me. Any other time of the year, I could easily repress my agony and use coping skills to distract myself from it. However, the holiday season constantly throws the concept of family and togetherness into my fucking face. Some family members I hardly know came across my venting on Facebook and decided to reach out to me for a pity party tomorrow. Oh boy! I can just picture myself sitting uncomfortably and awkwardly as everyone else socializes and embraces each other. Then an attractive man will come up to me feigning interest in my subtle existence until I’ll realize he’s my cousin. At this point, I’ll fuck one of my sexy cousins. This loneliness got me contemplating many things including incest. Lol. It’s not like he’ll knock me up with a retarded baby. Whatever. Fuck everything and fuck everyone too! You all can shove your turkeys and presents up your asses! Lmao. Happy Holidays, my fallen angels! Over and out. 🙂

Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! And please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012BSPFCQ/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdm_EgmSvb1FDR2EB Thanks for reading 🙂

Poking Fun

Idly standing by waiting for the bus

Lavishing autumn breeze imitating the dead

Only intangible images of an extinguished flame persists

Violet crowns tell me to let go or be dragged

 

Everybody is out to get me –

Yet another generalization

Over in the distance is a decaying vessel

Under the bushes someone abandoned herself

 

My intrigue grows exponentially

Observation leads to investigation

Reaching for a wooden stick

Early enough to notice her morning dew excite me

 

The one time I actually felt alive

Halt the despair before the Sun collects his due

Another addiction to my list

Never knew her but had saw her from time to time

 

Why did I decide to ignore her?

Heavy feelings swelled in her corset I stole

Anything to escape –

The status quo that kept me to myself

 

Scalp covered by the hair she bought prior to her best night

How could I have been so afraid?!

Under the canopy of a sudden truth

Men don’t know what beauty is anymore

 

A time to kill before the bus enforces mundane routine

Neighbors haven’t bothered to look up from their cell phones

Landlord just wanted her money to add on to the recession

Yard work needs to be done

 

 

People forget her as soon as she was done entertaining them

Obtained her fish nets to carry on her legacy

Simple attire bought from a sex shop

Suddenly the wind passed an oppressive ordinance

 

Identity crisis once prevented me from meeting her

Begone! They told me years ago in a comfortable classroom

Little did they know that I was one of a kind

Everyone loves an underdog

 

The Lazarus Pit

Rusted metal head my splintered morning wood garner,
I unearth my backyard without a peep from the childhood pets now owned by a farmer.
Nevertheless a howling wind opposes my venture,
For I discovered the Lazarus Pit when I set aside my childish ways.
This is what it’s like to set aside my childish ways.
Toys that once distracted me I now bury deeper into life.

An angel fell dead at my feet in the middle of the night.
The blinds casted forth black and white stripes on its ethereal form ‘fore moonlight.
I waited ’til the Sun reclaimed his throne and ’til a cat got my tongue, As if nothing in this world was any better in the midst of it all.
Ceasing such beauty must be better in the midst of it all.
Liquid gold I let exalt me I now bury deeper into life.

His name served no purpose now that his soul contract has expired.
I recall he hugged my knees to beg for me to play with him but I was so tired.
This shovel must be held with gardening gloves modeled after the desperate damsel ‘fore me;
Unkindly strown on calloused hands to get the job done right.
Bragging ’bout a dismembered servant to get the job done right.
Untold mystery I tend to share I now bury deeper into life.

Sacrifice is all it took to rid myself of such ridicule.
Bugs from animal carcasses attached themselves onto the toys and their cadaver who was mistaken for a fool,
‘Tis I, longing a mate to aid me in digging a grave that’ll someday be robbed.
Black sludge isn’t praised for it’s easier to digest.
Desire relapse every night thus far for it’s easier to digest.
Dreams I yearn to dream I now bury deeper into life.

Just as I predicted with dark magic I try to prove is real,
My toys and my precedence rose from Gaia in a way that made me glad of the other end of the deal.
It went too far, however, or perhaps not far enough.
Soulless solace didn’t repel the bugs that were found scavenging my past,
As if I have control of who was found scavenging my past.
There is no fear that let me die as I now bury deeper into life.

I asked my mother where do babies come from.
She told me a stork drops them off but she killed it because it was so dumb.
I never agreed with her ’til now.
Bringing children into this world should be a crime.
Madness and despair that makes up this world should be a crime.
Toys and angels are forfeited by a regretful child as I now bury deeper into life.

Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! And please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012BSPFCQ/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdm_EgmSvb1FDR2EB Thanks for reading 🙂

An Excerpt from TPC

The heat of the battle was surging through him. A war cry was released yet it disappeared almost as soon as it was created. There was no reason to live this.

A bomb in his grasp was nearing to the end of its life. He looked this way and that. There was no way to get rid of it without it being near his friends.

The battlefield where the battle took place was huge; it was as colossal as the mass of Planet Earth. There wasn’t one square inch where there wasn’t any bullets flying through; heading towards the death of the shooter’s opposition.

He knew that if he moved an inch, he would be vaporized in the line of fire. The man developed confusion, and soon he would give up and let himself perish into oblivion.

Then there was a woman that suddenly appeared several feet away. She was in the line of fire. On that very second when she appeared, hundreds of bullets passed through her. She was a ghost.

The woman wasn’t very old, eighteen or nineteen years of age. She had auburn hair, milky chocolate going down a vigorous mountain trail. The teenager wore a black, leather coat over a green tank top. Blue denim jeans with slits on the knees were worn upon her sleek, slender legs. She had dress shoes on, and black earrings and bracelets that matched them. Her dark brown, beady eyes made all her beauty transfigure into something lethal.

The man’s eyes dwelled on hers for what seemed like forever. But according to the timer on the bomb, only a minute had passed by.

Once he found out that the strange being in front wasn’t real, he gazed upon the stars and prayed one last time.

“Almighty Zeus,” he said, “I, Felix, want you to know that you have chose the right man to be a part of the Heaven’s Angels. The group represented the hope and faith you had for existence even when all the Gods were losing the war between Hades and the others. I am man enough to admit defeat, and I thank you for the opportunity for having me in your aid! My job is done; wish me a grand new life.”

The bomb said “thirty seconds”.

“Are you a being of promise, of word?” he said to the mysterious woman floating gently barely above his area of vision.

She nodded.

“Tell my love, the sweet Emma Jones that I don’t want to see her cry. I only wanted her to be happy. Will you tell her that? You ought to!”

He reached his hand toward hers maybe she can rescue him. They both knew that she couldn’t, and she watched in tears as the bomb finally ignited.

His body was bathed in flames. Bubbles erupted from his body, and he was screaming for his life. The man didn’t expect such a subtle way to die.

The air pressure and the limited amount of oxygen in each square mile of the outer space made Flex glide lifelessly elsewhere.

Veronica witnessed the dead angel’s body drift away.

(Beginning of Chapter 20 of my novel, The Pandemonium Chronicles: The Merge Between Heaven and Hell)

Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! And please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012BSPFCQ/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdm_EgmSvb1FDR2EB Thanks for reading 🙂

The Talk: A Raw Truth

Conception:

When a man and a woman love each other very much…

When a man unconsensually forces himself on a woman…

When a woman is infertile and must resort to artificial insemination…

When a condom breaks and a white elephant looms over two people…

Tribulation:

The number one cause of death is birth…

Your parents cannot shield you from harm forever…

You must learn life lessons the hard way, alone…

Being too sheltered from the real world will make hardship unbearable when you finally do experience it…

Annihilation:

Your first love will destroy your heart in ways you couldn’t fathom prior…

Yet it’s so worth it for it truly is better to have loved and lost than to not…

You grow stronger, wiser, and more resilient from losses rather than victories…

So good luck on your personal endeavors and have a wonderful day, my fallen angels…

Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! And please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012BSPFCQ/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdm_EgmSvb1FDR2EB Thanks for reading 🙂

#FML #KMN

Hello to my bitter fallen angels! I’m sick of being fucking positive all the time! I’m an introverted loner inches away from oblivion. I don’t care about how anyone is doing. And I hate every single fucking holiday except Halloween. Fortunately Halloween is coming up soon. I just wanna scare the shit out of everyone I come across. Let the real me come out one day of the year. Ugly ass strangers on the streets staring at me. “What the fuck do you want from me?” Sexy guys who think they’re too good for me. “Fine! I hope you find someone who will abuse you, you fucking bastard!” Some people say they love me. Yeah fucking right! When I’m trying to be positive and joking around, it’s easy to be around me, huh fucker? But when shit hits the fan, everyone in my boring ass life ceases to exist. “This dude is crazy as hell…” I can hear your thoughts slowly dying as you selfishly walk away. Paying bills, going to school, working, and sleeping practically makes up people’s days so how does anyone have time for anyone else? Fuck my life. Kill me now. This is why I have had writer’s block for days now. Because I was attempting to think of more positive bullshit to write about until I realized my tolerance for other people’s existence is wasted away by now. We live in a world where your own mother can be your archnemesis, where a man says he loves you one day and ghost out the next, where discrimination and abuse are the norm. This world sucks! Life is meaningless! People with mental health problems will never be accepted into society and will forever be on the receiving end of ridicule. Blasphemy! Freedom my ass! The cashier at my local grocery store is such a bitch! The man at my local post office is an asshole! Yet they have jobs and I don’t! Suicide Hotline ain’t shit. My boss says I’m not even good enough to be an operator cus I need further training! Fuck you, slut! Am I not adequate enough for you?! “Don’t sugarcoat it. Tell me how you really feel?” Lol! I’m not suicidal or anything. I’m just one of the few select people on the world who have come to terms with the harsh truth that loneliness is the realest thing there is. I think I’m just gonna be Mr. Scrooge for the hopeless remainder of my life. I don’t give a fuck! I’m content with Loneliness. The only guy I sleep with at night. I haven’t had sex in three weeks now. I found out the man I started to have feelings for was already married. But it’s an open marriage so it’s okay… What the fuck do you want from me then? To be your mistress?! Fuck outta here! At this time, that would be better than nothing. Let’s call the adulterer, shall we? I had a job interview with some fat asshole asking me why I wanna work there. “To pop bottles on the weekends and buy shit. What the fuck you mean ‘why?'” He said he’ll call me but I doubt he will. He told me himself he hates people in general. More than I do, if that’s even humanly possible. I was disappointed when the world didn’t end in 2012. Seconds until the ball dropped and I was giddy with excitement for I thought I was finally going to meet Death. Unfortunately the world still goes ’round. My New Year’s resolution every year since was to lose weight. I have been working out a lot but of to no avail. I can keep going on and on. This world gives me infinite reasons to hate it. If you made it through my psychotic rantings, then congratulations! Have a wonderful day! Over and out.

Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! And please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012BSPFCQ/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdm_EgmSvb1FDR2EB Thanks for reading 🙂

Zombie slumber party!

Pinocchio! Pistachio! Fellatio! Wouldn’t it be sexy to perform necromancy to resurrect zombies for a slumber party? But I need a sacrifice. Lamb are too boring. Maybe an ex or an enemy? Nah! Donald Trump is a perfect choice! I doubt he’s worth anything in the spirit realm though. Besides, his toupee probably ate his soul anyway so his body is merely an empty vessel.  No more nocturnal emissions for him! Some might say that’s his real hair but I believe it’s his hair from his ass. Trump talks so much shit that his ass hair migrated to the top of his scalp. So that won’t do… How about Nicki Minaj? I really want a mĂ©nage Ă  trois with some dead people! Grr! I don’t know who to kill! Elephants still stand when they’re electrocuted. It takes poise and balance to be sexually stimulated. Steven Hawking lubricates everyone’s asses in preparation for a soundless wind breaking the moonlit night. He’s valuable in making this party fun so I have to let him live. Who else could I sacrifice for my own personal gain? I can’t sleep because my illuminated halo is keeping me awake. The dead always intrigues me in some undeserving trance. So the only time I would pay any attention to anyone is if they passed on. Converting someone I hate to someone I admire requires their death to occur. So that means everyone cus generalizations are a way of life. And so now, I have billions of zombie fwb’s that lasted longer than that orgasmic night. Fascination in apocalypse, disappointment surviving 2012, that’s okay! Everyone is dead to me regardless! 🙂

Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! And please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012BSPFCQ/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdm_EgmSvb1FDR2EB Thanks for reading 🙂

Always end with a kiss

Shadows spill on the walls made to defend,

For loneliness is not worthless,

Enduring the crevices for hardship’s a godsend,

Failure doesn’t exist but the interior is still a mess,

Depleting all black sludge from the alcove,

No use crying over spilled milk,

Gratitude and puissance dove,

From Elysium meander down like silk,

The king nidificates his crown atop his head,

Belgian nuns misplace their two eyes to appreciate the third,

Minstrels convivially express themselves through song,

Lovers hold on to anything and everything,

A pharaoh treats their body as the temple they govern,

Belly dancers convey concupiscence to earn a living,

Mankind rely on belief that God will give just enough to handle,

Rooted to the floor while the darkness imitates,

If one can convince themself to be hopeless,

Surely the coin’s benign side can be just as persistent,

Cast forth Roy G. Biv a halo of color hovering above,

Spiraling and emanating before the makeshift tree,

Entangled sacrilege encased underneath a rainbow fleece,

Morph into any way the light decides to reflect,

Texture of choice for the cloaked figure in the distance can’t see,

Just a sphere of white mist translucent yet not duplicated,

For evil is subjective both fire and sunlight are illuminescent,

Yet opposing forces each attract only their own respective brethren,

All good stories are concluded wars and well-deserved peace

Accept Death’s gentle release,

A passionate kiss shared between two beneficial friends