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<livejournal>
<entry>
<itemid>116752</itemid>
<eventtime>2010-06-11 13:24:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2010-06-11 17:24:53</logtime>
<subject>The Case for the Blue Pill</subject>
<event>
By Emmit Other I am a Floating Eyeball And I see Truth. Truth is liberating Like alcohol on bacteria But it is also Pain. And there is no escaping it. The truth of who you are. The truth of who others are. The truth of how the world is. The true nature of time. The world is beautiful This is true. You can see that beauty In reality Clearer than any other way In which the human mind can experience it. As Pathos, it cleanses. But there is no haven From the darker side of things. Most importantly A true seeker Always seeks greater access The deeper, more profound ways. And yet the inevitable outcome is dissapointment. The world as it is Is often pedantic Petty Boring Pointless Cruel Stupid. Most important of all There is no such thing as Induced Amnesia. In the real world Once you learn the truth Unlearning it is truly difficult If not impossible. One can argue that it can never be escaped Save for short fleeting moments Where we flitter from door to door And the light from sunbeams Plays with the inadequicies of our comprehension Implying that we matter In the grand scheme of things Rather than lay back the illusions we tell ourselves To get through the day to day. One can see hope and beauty Or one can see dark and gloom Or one can see both at the same time Which is the worst choice of all Temptation in redlit hues With the somber reality of their folly The statistical validation of Mankind's idiocy. The illusion that one is arrogant Because one considers oneself above it all Only to realize that they aren't. Pandoras unwelcome in the halcyon sunlit halls Of Apollo's White Marble Stairs. The unseen ether of ideas Is no shelter to that which tears And Time is the Bitch of Entropy Tearing Grinding Crushing Destroying Life itself is a spit in its eye And it is glorious for doing so But Life is messy A bundled batch of fluids that Writhes and Stinks as it produces excrement No wonder that the Prophets often hue "Greater creatures" of contempt of man When Birth itself is enmeshed in slime Yet within this one can see the sublime Life has meaning If you choose it In the single moment Every shadow Or shade of gray Is poetry But to those who follow Truth It is there Ever present Never leaving In the darkest corner of the mind That all is dust And to know this is madness Yet we still eat our cornflakes And commute to our day jobs just the same.
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<entry>
<itemid>117209</itemid>
<eventtime>2010-06-11 13:50:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2010-06-11 17:50:41</logtime>
<subject>The Tower of Steel and Blood</subject>
<event>
By Emmit Other There it stood beneath the sky The tower of steel and blood Raining metal can never die A fact that's understood. Cloned Ghouls With Masks of Human Flesh Stapled To Their Face A liquid Smile The Latest Style To mimic the human race. Happiness is a commodity Bought and Sold and Traded The context has no meaning The philosophy has faded. Weaving Weavles In the insect hive Our sundry commercial dance They play their little circus They mindlessly advance Raping pure Gaia Through their towers and their hives Since they cannot find the meaning Of their pathetic little lives. Each one wears a pendant With a mirror's gem inside They cackle and demand They shackle and deride. Fraternity of Angels With a Knife Right in the Back A grin is grinning madness The ultimate stealth attack. The rain, it now is falling. In crippled limpid pools Washing out the hive now And cleansing all the fools. But nature now has fallen For the clouds will clear away And the ghouls will go on building Upon the break of day.
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<entry>
<itemid>117313</itemid>
<eventtime>2010-06-11 14:24:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2010-06-11 18:24:15</logtime>
<subject>Emerald Eyes</subject>
<event>
by Emmit Other "Come and See" said the woman in the truck By and by the hour Of noon had faintly struck A pair of eyes looked out at me I took them. With Cartoonish Pluck She soon was stuck Upon our car windshield But all was well Until she fell Upon my waiting lap. The stars around her head Indicated her little nap. From that day forth She journied On our twisted little ride From mountain peak to heart ache A companion by my side Quirky and Dignified Prim and Protective Patience ere enduring Grace Ensured Emotive A moonful spoonful of scarlet sunshine Eyes that saw the night And saw my soul And gloried with requisite companionship. She saw the stars And brought them to me A little bit at a time Whilst I slept. Magnificent Marissa She was by me Kept. Her eyes have passed Around the side Unseen in the other world She watches now in darkness The sun in a grayish world. Though things feel cold and empty now In dream I see her still Warm fur and pleasant harbinger The emptiness to fill.
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<entry>
<itemid>117583</itemid>
<eventtime>2010-06-16 22:01:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2010-06-17 02:02:21</logtime>
<subject>The Ties That Bind</subject>
<event>
By Redwin Tursor The Ties that Bind Are Strong Roots and Branches On the Great Tree of Life That stretches back And forward In the great sea of time. But when those ties Turn to razor wire It cuts deeper Than the Vorpal Blade Snicker Snack They cut And cut and cut. The wounds of the soul Do not heal At the same even tempo As flesh. The landscape of the soul Takes time in its own methodology.
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<entry>
<itemid>117997</itemid>
<eventtime>2010-06-21 13:16:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2010-06-21 17:16:12</logtime>
<subject>Building My Bifrost</subject>
<event>
by Emmit Other In Ancient Times of Yore The Norse believe in a mystic rainbow bridge. Called "Bifrost" It linked the heavens and the Earth. I was taught of another Ancient Irish saying A meditation of the mind. To cross a stream Over a bridge In the mind Carrying your troubles In a heavy pack. Then when you stand at the zenith You drop the pack And walk to the other side. Here I am in St. Augustine The Pier is the base of my bridge All around me the clouds are wonderous Behind me, a panoplay of blues and grays The shade of pink hints around to where the sun is Reflected on the clouds about me. The tide is ever in motion. And Land and Sea and Sky all meet here. I connect the dots Built on floating helium balloons Floating up into the air The bridge is built of sunlight. We both made mistakes We both had enjoyable times. But most important of all I am made of many mes. The Inquisitor, The Jester, The Accountant, The Crusade The Poet The Hero The Demon The Angel The Lion The Phoenix The Guardian And the Twin. And so are you. The You I feel in love with Isn't there any more. I realized that two months ago As you hummed to yourself Happy for the first time in over a year. The new you isn't evil. Not at all. But she isn't the Woman that Loves me. That much is certainly true. I can fight a lot of things. I could in some ways more easily Cause the tide to reverse itself Or the half moon in the sky to plunge to Earth. These things I could and would do No matter how long it took For you. But if I am to honor you And that love I feel for you Then I must acknowledge that You aren't you. You are You instead. So I build my bridge. And I place the other half in the zenith of our glory. Down in Galway At the foot of the Maker of the Cladagh Where the ring I gave you Came Full Circle. And into the pack goes the ring. This time has passed. A picture frame with eight emerald sides That never had a picture. A necklace I gave you As a ring when no ring was to be had. A broken Zodiac Never quite forged. A day that never happened That I still owed you. The unused artifacts For the child we did not have. And a sheath of letters Written from the heart The things yet unwritten. I place them in the pack. It is not an act of spite As I drop it But returning to the Sea That which belongs to it. You are the Sea And Water And you Change And woe to the fool That tries to tame it. I honor you as You are. And my burden is lighter now. Meditative act restricted And renewed. One of many rituals completed In that beach of tomorrows unwritten yesterdays The place that was to be But was never to be. And I return to my room. Lighter, wiser, and happier. God speed my love.
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