Showing posts with label Mind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mind. Show all posts

Friday, September 29, 2023

The Schizophrenic's Creed

I am a schizophrenic

I didn’t ask to be one

I didn’t choose this life for myself

This life chose me

There are others like me who suffer as I do

But I am more than a statistic

I am a dreamer

I am a survivor

I am a warrior fighting against my past

My traumas are not my fault

I deserve better treatment from the world

Despite knowing this, my schizophrenia is still a part of me

It cannot be gaslit away

It cannot be prayed away

It is a disease just like any other

It’s no different from a fever

It’s a psychological cancer

The reason it exists is to destroy me from within

It has no other purpose

It is a curse I carry until the day I die

Hopefully, that day will come slowly

I have so much to do in this world despite my mind ghosts

I have people to love

I have art to create and consume

I have minds to change and hearts to care for

I do not know this yet and I may never know until it’s too late

But this world is a colder place without me and people like me

The world doesn’t love me, but I love the world

I’ll stay for as long as I can, even when my voices tell me lies

Amen!

Monday, April 20, 2020

How Much Longer? Wait Your Turn...


How much longer until this is over?
When my thoughts are clear and sober?
When the voices leave my mind forever?
Please tell me that the answer isn’t never

Wait your turn like a good little boy
Wait your turn to unhear the noise
Like a rainstorm, it’ll eventually pass
Until then, enjoy your kick in the ass

How much longer until I can leave?
Until making a cure has been achieved?
Until authority will no longer deceive?
Hopefully soon is what I can believe

Wait your turn like everybody else
We’re in this together, our moment of hell
Don’t be tempted by the church bells
Don’t forget about the ones who fell

How much longer until permanent peace?
Until the madness of the world will cease?
Until people come before the economy?
Until we can skip this whole tragicomedy?

Wait your turn like a model citizen
What makes you so goddamn different?
Don’t let your selfishness get in the way
Of America living on for another day

How much longer until I can rest my head?
And not have to worry about being dead?
Maybe that’s the only logical conclusion
Maybe I shouldn’t give into delusions

Wait your turn, you’ve got a long way to go
When your time will come, nobody knows
Get to work on your precious purple prose
Work until the day that your breathing slows
I know it’s cruel and it just isn’t fair
All I can tell you is to grow a brass pair
You never signed up for military life
But the truth cuts deeper than a bowie knife

Screw your harshness, screw your indifference
Screw your so-called melodic dissonance
I’ll be back in true form one of these days
Until then, your welcome is long overstayed
I’m the landlord and the rent is now due
Don’t act like this just came out of the blue
I’ll kick your ass out of my mind so fast
You’ll be too far back in the prehistoric past

Sunday, July 7, 2019

Prisoner of My Own Mind


VERSE 1
This ain’t no dreamscape, I need an escape
A vacation from my self-destructive fate
My mind is a prison, my soul is the warden
My empty eyes have the stare of a gorgon
Every detail is chosen for me in advance
Who will I befriend? With whom will I dance?
When do I get to express my creative freedom?
When do I get to win this war on my demons?

CHORUS
I’m a prisoner of my own mind
The life sentence is always mine
I’m a prisoner of my own soul
Orange suit slave is my only role

VERSE 2
A permanent lock that slows down the clock
Another head for the executioner’s chopping block
Another statistic on a government pie chart
Another nightmare that tears me the fuck apart

CHORUS
I’m a prisoner of my own mind
The life sentence is always mine
I’m a prisoner of my own soul
Orange suit slave is my only role

BRIDGE
Life sentence or death sentence?
Witness testimony or DNA evidence?
Solitary confinement or general population?
Another day of psychological taxation

EXTENDED CHORUS
I’m a prisoner of my own mind
The life sentence is always mine
I’m a prisoner of my own soul
Orange suit slave is my only role
I’m sitting in the electric chair
A head scalped of all its hair
Freedom, take me to a better place
Where everything’s at a slower pace

Monday, January 14, 2019

No Filter


***NO FILTER***

You wouldn’t know this from some of the politically liberal short stories and poems I post on a regular basis…but I fucking hate debating. I told you all before about the woes of my opponent having more talking points than me. I might have even mentioned something about scrambling for an answer and getting nothing. But here’s something you probably didn’t know about me until now: I have no filter for the bullshit that enters my mind. It could be an autistic thing. It could be a schizophrenic thing. Maybe I’m just really fucking sensitive. But whenever an opposing talking point enters my mind, the most important organ in my body doesn’t seem to want to do its job of filtering out the horseshit. It stays with me just like any other stimulus, because my mind takes in everything all at once and doesn’t quiet the fuck down for just one minute.

It’s because of this that I purposefully go out of my way to avoid watching conservative or religious videos on You Tube. I also skip over conservative memes on Face Book by averting my eyes and scrolling down as fast as I can. I’m sure you’ve seen some of the titles of the You Tube videos by now:

“Ben Shapiro DESTROYS transgender teenager with just one Tweet!”

“Ronda Rousey SHUTS DOWN feminist in just one minute!”

“Jordan Peterson DESTROYS this and that! He DESTROYS Mickey Mouse! He DESTROYS Hulk Hogan! He DESTROYS EVERYTHING!”

You’d think with all of this destruction going on that there’d be more settled debates in this world. Nope. They just keep talking…and talking…and talking…and talking. They keep talking because they have stronger filters than I do. Me? I have to constantly be on my toes when it comes to brainwashing and loss of individuality, so I scroll by the DESTROY videos as quickly as possible.

“But, Garrison! You have to challenge yourself! You can’t live in an echo chamber!”

For all intents and purposes, both of those phrases are correct. However, when you consider the source of that compound quote, you begin to realize that whoever said it probably lives in an echo chamber of his own. Open-mindedness is supposed to be a two way street. If I have to be open to the other side’s ideas, they have to be open to mine too. But being open-minded doesn’t mean agreeing with everything the other side says with one-hundred percent submission. Open-mindedness simply means giving the debater a chance. What he does with that chance is beyond your control, but if he blows his chance, that’s it.

I’ve given a thousand chances to a thousand debaters. Any stubbornness I showed towards them had to be worked for, because my filter for BS is weak as shit. Some talking points are easier to resist than others, but the lazy-ass filter is the common denominator. It’s amazing that I didn’t become a cultist right away. Actually, I probably would have resisted joining a cult, but I wouldn’t have the debating skills or quick answers necessary to strike down their talking points. That’s the thing with debates: if you don’t answer in, let’s say, five seconds or less, you automatically lose. You don’t get to think about it. You don’t get to mull it over and come back with a completed homework assignment. It’s now or never.

If you’re reading this and you think I’m ripe for the picking for your zealous cause, do me a favor: don’t even try. Just give up. Because my filter sucks ass, I’m more prone to shut you out despite not giving you a chance. You won’t get philosophical talking points from me, just curse words and waves goodbye. I know this seems close-minded and that’s generally considered a bad thing. I know my responsibility as a pundit is to research my arguments and use my knowledge to shut down opposing talking points. But I don’t have it in me to DESTROY anybody, at least not within the five-second timeframe required to respond in a debate. The natural answer for me would be to just stop writing poems and stories about politics, but…that’s just not going to happen. I care too much.

If I refuse to engage in a debate with you, it’s nothing personal and it’s not an indication of surrender. It’s because my filter for BS can’t be bothered to work overtime for the Ben Shapiros, Charlie Kirks, and Milo Yiannopouloses of the world. Even if I promised my filter a private jet, healthcare benefits, and a vacation in Hawaii, I wouldn’t be able to convince it to work for me the way it does for the Cenk Uygurs and Rachel Maddows of the world. In other words, you won’t see You Tube videos with any of these titles…

“Garrison Kelly DESTROYS the establishment!”

“Garrison Kelly DESTROYS the corporations!”

“Garrison Kelly DESTROYS EVERYTHING IN SIGHT! RAAAAAAAAAWR!!”

What is this, a fucking Godzilla movie? Does everything have to be destroyed?


***BEAUTIFUL MONSTER***

My next assignment for this ongoing rewrite is chapter nine, where Windham and Tarja walk through the forest together for more thought-provoking conversations (they won’t need their weak-ass filters, though). The day’s topic of choice: dreams and ambitions. Windham wants to be an artist of all genres while Tarja wants to care for fuzzy animal babies. There’s even going to be a scene where Tarja feeds walnuts to the squirrels and she offers Windham a carrot to give to a rabbit. If you’re wondering where the hell all the action is, keep in mind that Beautiful Monster is a drama first and a historical fantasy second. But if it’s action you want…you’ll have to wait until the end of the chapter! No, not that kind of action, you perv! They’re just friends! Jesus Christ, man!


***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“I’m just a-wandering on the face of this earth meeting so many people who are trying to be free. And while I’m traveling, I hear so many words. Language barriers broken, now we’ve found the key. And if you want the winds of change to blow around you and you’re the only other person to know, please tell me. I’m just a singer in a rock n’ roll band. A thousand pictures can be drawn from one word, only who is the artist? We’ve got to agree. A thousand miles can lead so many ways. Just to know who is driving, what a help it would be. And if you want this world of yours to turn around you and you can see exactly what to do, don’t tell me. I’m just a singer in a rock and roll band. Why can’t we understand? Riots by the people for the people who are only destroying themselves. And if you see a frightened person who was frightened by the people who are scorching this earth. Music is the traveler crossing our world, meeting so many people, bridging the seas. I’m just a singer in a rock n’ roll band. We’re all just singers in a rock n’ roll band.”

-The Moody Blues singing “I’m Just a Singer in a Rock n’ Roll Band”-

Friday, June 1, 2018

Define Me


VERSE 1
Out of the darkness and into the light
Got a brand new lease on my own life
No longer will you define my happiness
With over the top dramatic campy shit
If you choose to walk past and ignore
I choose not to agonize about it anymore
I’m the only one who defines who I am
My high self-esteem is my business brand

CHORUS
Never again will I defend
Bringing my sanity to an end
Never again will you define
What goes on in my damn mind

VERSE 2
Sex is a battle and love is a war
Fighting’s all that shit is good for
Don’t need your seal of approval
Mark that shit for its removal
Sick of trying to impress you
Of you berating the things I do
I got my own soul, go get yours
Then walk on right out of the door

EXTENDED CHORUS
Never again will I defend
Bringing my sanity to an end
Never again will you define
What goes on in my damn mind
Never again, never again X2

VERSE 3
I don’t mean to be bitter or stone cold
I’m just not a hostage for you to hold
I’m not a prisoner of your expectations
I’m the leader of my own destinations
Don’t need to be thin, don’t need to smile
Don’t need to chat bullshit for a while
Don’t need to spend money on shiny rocks
Won’t be defined by the needs of my cock

EXTENDED CHORUS
Never again will I defend
Bringing my sanity to an end
Never again will you define
What goes on in my damn mind
Never again, never again X4

Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Because of You


Whether or not you believe it to be true
This world is different because of you
Every word you say, every dollar you spend
Every action you take, every position you defend
Every friend you make, every heart you take
Every enemy you kill, all the blood you spill
What seems like nothing on the surface
Could feel to others overwhelmingly urgent
A lifelong lesson or an honorable mention
A permanent heaven or a hellish weapon
For every action, there’s a consequence
No in-betweens, no riding on the fence
Do you want to be a force of positive change?
Or a constant source of negative pain?
No matter what decision you ultimately make
Have no regrets unless you want to break
This world is different because of you
Either tear it apart or become its glue

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Wrestling With My Mind


***WRESTLING WITH MY MIND***

One day of creative inactivity is unacceptable to me, let alone four. Creating blueprints for my next novel idea doesn’t count, because that shit was too easy. I’m so close to putting the finishing touches on Silent Warrior. Only four more chapters to go and my racecar ran out of gas. I know I originally said three more chapters, but I’ve decided to add another one to make sure all of my loose ends are tied up. You want to know what I’ve been doing during those four days of inactivity aside from creating blueprints? Wrestling with my mind. It wasn’t a schizophrenic attack, but rather a creative struggle within my soul.

Wrestling with your creativity can be good for coming up with story ideas, but when it takes the place of actual work, that’s not a good thing. I used to do this all the time when I was a teenager. I’d wrestle with my mind and never get around to writing something that would amount to a Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex fan fiction. Back then I wanted to do a self-insert fic where I was the subject of unrequited love for Makoto Kusanagi. I ran a bunch of different scenarios through my head and eventually popped something tangible out. Looking back now, it’s not very good, but at least some good came from the constant inner turmoil.

In the case of my most recent four days of nothingness, this running of the gauntlet was a long time coming. It began in mid-February when I researched an episode of Millennium called “A Room with No View” due to nostalgic curiosity. I’ve beaten this topic to death with a lead pipe, so to give you the Cliff’s Notes version of why that episode was upsetting to me, it was a unique version of the kidnapping trope, this time a beautiful woman kidnapping a handsome high school boy and giving him lovey-dovey treatment while in captivity. I saw the Wikipedia article for this episode and figured, I want to do a story like that too, though with my own spin on it. Thus a novel synopsis for “Beautiful Monster” was born. But blueprints aren’t anywhere near as valuable as an actual novel, so it’ll have to be shelved for now.

Less than a week later, I went to see Pop Evil at El Corazon, a nightclub in Seattle. The music was good and dancing to it was a lot of fun. Here’s what I didn’t tell you guys. While Black Map (one of the opening acts) was performing onstage, a cute stocky black chick tried dancing with me. She had her hand in mine. She had her hand on my shoulder. She was twirling around. For all intents and purposes, since I’m apparently so lovesick, I should be making moves on her too. But no. I was terrified. I just stood there frozen like Walt Disney while this chick was giving me sugar and love. It didn’t help matters that she shoved another woman with her elbow and got herself ejected from the building, but that’s beside the point.

I spent the next two days wrestling with the awkwardness and then the following Wednesday I saw Starset at the same venue without incident. But think about this for a minute: an episode of Millennium, an embarrassing moment at a concert, and a childhood of rejecting girls as a reaction to my father’s divorce troubles. Bad timing aside, don’t you think this makes for some emotionally raw creative fuel? You’re damn right it does. The creative fuel helped get me through ten more chapters of Silent Warrior, which is a story about an unconfident high schooler named Scott George getting into an unfamiliar romance with a younger woman. Pay attention to the theme of lacking confidence around women, because that’ll come into play multiple times during my creative journey.

Because of this creative fuel swirling in my brain, I became obsessed with certain songs in my music library. You all know about “Beautiful Monster” by Otherwise, but I also listened to a lot of “This Love” by Pantera. I also listened to a lot of heavy metal songs to bring me back down into bathos territory. And then I start watching Final Fantasy videos on You Tube and finding even more vicarious romances to set my mind on fire. Squall Leonhart and Cloud Strife are both emotionally distant characters who are colder than Walt Disney (man, I’m really laying that shit on thick!). When they went on dates with their respective love interests, I felt the terror building up in my stomach yet again.

And then the scenarios swirled in my head once more. I actually imagined Squall, Cloud, and Landon Bryce (Millennium) joining a group therapy session to get in touch with their feelings, y’all (as Dr. Phil would oftentimes say). And then I imagined myself in a college class introducing myself as someone who doesn’t open up easily. And then I imagined having a schizophrenic episode in the middle of a WWE ring with the girls of Absolution screaming for paramedics.

And while all of this nonstop nonsense is going on, I still have two novel ideas floating around in my head. One of them is Beautiful Monster as I’ve mentioned before. The other is Booger the Clown. Let’s compare and contrast the main characters of both stories. Windham Xavier is an elf paladin who gets kidnapped by a beautiful vampire named Shelly Atwood so that the two of them can have a black wedding together. Booger the Clown (real name Private Andrew Gale) is a depressed birthday performer who picks fights with orcs because he secretly wants to die. Both main characters are snarky. They’re both emotionally fucked up for life. They’re both being pursued by beautiful women. And whatever happy ending they achieve, they’re going to have to earn it through fire and fury.

Keep in mind that these ideas and dream scenarios are all invading my mind right when I’m ready to pull the trigger on Silent Warrior. Four chapters left. Four fucking chapters left, all of which I’ve played out in my mind many times before and therefore have a solid foundation for how I’m going to write them. Two chapters are going to be told through Tom Simpson’s point of view, one chapter is going to be told through Scott George’s POV, and the other one goes to Alan Young. You won’t get many spoilers beyond that, so cool your jets, as my mother once told me.

But let’s go back to this theme of being unconfident and afraid around beautiful women. This is a curse that has followed me for pretty much all of my life. Even when I was dating a Bremerton woman named Brianna, I could never bring myself out of the shadows for fear of offending the other person. I’ve been offended by women in the past and I don’t want to put anybody else through that. So in order to keep the peace between us, I give them a shield from my lovey-dovey behavior. Even if they don’t give me a shield, I give them a shield. Though the peace treaty is intact, our hearts are not. Careless overconfidence can lead to awkwardness. Nobody needs that. Shyness, on the other hand, is the greatest defense I’ll ever have.

But instead of rolling over and playing dead for a cold world, I use sexual inadequacy as creative fuel for my emotionally rawest stories. William Butler Yeats was once told by his crush that if they got together, he’d have nothing to write about. That doesn’t mean I don’t intend to date again when the opportunity presents itself. It just means I’m going to focus my broken heart on getting things done rather than being a perpetual angsty mope. Like I said, Silent Warrior is four chapters away from completion. I may write the twenty-fifth chapter today, depending on whether or not my brain wants to cooperate. I think it will. It’s cooperated with me long enough to get this blog entry out, so I think I’m good to go for Silent Warrior’s twenty-fifth chapter. I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you next time!


***NOVEL QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“I know it isn’t fair. I know how hard you try. But if you want love and affection in this world, you have to earn it by being a good person, not by throwing a fit.”

-Windham Xavier to Shelly Atwood-

Sunday, July 23, 2017

You Tried to Kill Me

VERSE 1
You call it a trigger, I call it something bigger
I call you liquored, you’re the one who’s sicker
You tried to take away what I hold highest
My heart, mind, soul, and beautiful silence
Kleptomancy is your magic of choice
Obnoxious bullhorn is your style of voice
I would have screamed to the skies for help
How can anyone hear when I’m chained in hell?

CHORUS 1
You tried to kill me!
You tried to end it all!
You tried to kill me!
You made me take the fall!

VERSE 2
Your empty talk is like a buzzing wasp
Stinging me until my brain goes pop
Pop goes the weasel, down go the people
You make fun of everyone? That’s your spiel?
I don’t buy the idea that this shit’s not personal
You wished me humiliated, wished me terminal
I want to wrap my hands around your pencil neck
Watch shit and piss run down your fucking leg

CHORUS 2
You tried to kill me!
You tried to end my life!
You tried to kill me!
You might as well pull the knife!

VERSE 3
I want to take your inner demons
Turn them against you to make us even
Every ass kicking you have ever taken
Every sad-ass smile you’re just now faking
Every time you were told to go to hell
Every time the crowd laughed when you fell
You’re in my shoes, you’re singing the blues
To say otherwise is nothing but fake news

CHORUS 3
I tried to kill you!
Put your memories to rest!
I tried to kill you!
Make you famous, not like the rest!
You tried to kill me!
You tried to make me small!
You tried to kill me!
How does it feel to curl in a ball?!

You tried to kill me!

Sunday, May 7, 2017

Angel of Chehalis

VERSE 1
In the city of burning crosses
We’ve suffered so many losses
In the town of blind-eye bosses
We were figuring out the causes
But you were the one constant
As I laid down watching for comets
Could you be the Angel of Chehalis?
Would stealing your kiss be tasteless?

CHORUS
You made me believe in love
When I gave up and had enough
You brought me out of the dark
Angel of Chehalis, take my heart

VERSE 2
You flew away in the dead of night
Deprived this city of your radiant light
I carried my burden with all my might
It’s my cross to bear, no love to share
I walked the earth, but saw no sign
Of the angel from the burning ley line
Are you still the Angel of Chehalis?
Or has this damn city left you jaded?

CHORUS
You made me believe in love
When I gave up and had enough
You brought me out of the dark
Angel of Chehalis, take my heart

VERSE 3
Finding heaven in the strangest places
Finding angels in the saddest faces
Finding the living in permanent stasis
Finding the dead lonely and wasted
In the city of burning crosses
I walk away and cut my losses
Until we meet again, Angel of Chehalis
Until this world is a photograph faded

EXTENDED CHORUS
You made me believe in love
When I gave up and had enough
You brought me out of the dark
Angel of Chehalis, take my heart
Take my body, take my soul
Take my mind, take total control
Fill the chasms and the black holes

Why must this memory take its toll?

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Ghost

CHORUS 1
You’re just a ghost
With no love to boast
Gone with the wind
Are all of your sins
The shit in the past
Is never built to last
You’re just a ghost
Whose ass is toast

VERSE 1
If I wanted ghost stories, I’d sit at the campfire
Instead all I’m listening to is a fucking bad liar
Twisting the truth like the arms of your victims
Turning the strongest men into prison bitches
A haunted house isn’t good enough for you
A dark cemetery is where you’ll forever stew
Banging on the gates in search of your freedom
As if somewhere beyond is the Garden of Eden

CHORUS 1
You’re just a ghost
With no love to boast
Gone with the wind
Are all of your sins
The shit in the past
Is never built to last
You’re just a ghost
Whose ass is toast

VERSE 2
The spiritual realm has been calling your name
Like a chorus of boos stripping you of your fame
Like a necromantic chant in a sacrificial ritual
Like a street corner sermon of a sick individual
Consider this your one and only eviction notice
It’s extermination time for the swarm of locusts
There’s nothing left here for you to feed on
No more tortured souls for you to beat on

BRIDGE
If there’s something strange in your neighborhood
Burn it to the ground with gasoline and wood
If there’s a ghost in your brain that’s causing you pain
Flush that shit out and watch it swirl down the drain

CHORUS 2
You’re just a ghost
A parasite to the host
Gone with the wind
Let the new wave begin
The shit in the past
Is never coming back
You’re just a ghost
With no bail to post

FINAL LINES
You’re just a ghost!
You’re just a ghost!
Of all the hatred I could give

You deserve it the most!

Friday, December 30, 2016

Conforming to Society

***CONFORMING TO SOCIETY***

I can’t remember who exactly said it, but I read a Wikipedia article where the lead singer of a punk band talked about the necessity of conforming to society in order to fulfill responsibilities. In other words, doing what you’re told will give you worth in the eyes of your boss even if you don’t agree with your orders.

However, there’s a huge difference between doing what you’re told to earn a paycheck and changing your mindset to contour to the boss’s beliefs. When teenagers work at McDonald’s, they’re not doing it because they’re zealots of fast food. They’re doing it because they want money for an X-Box or a new car. Conformity takes place in the mind, not in the body. No sane human being would ever bomb a Burger King or spray poisonous gas in a Wendy’s in the righteous name of McDonald’s.

Money isn’t everything, but it is something. We all have to have it in some form or another, whether we’re keeping a roof over our heads or finding entertainment. Sometimes you have to do things for money that you never thought possible. But does that mean you’re a puppet for whoever you work for? No. Does it mean you have to give up on your original dreams? No.

If your boss does something morally corrupt, you could just as easily look for another job behind his back. If you need time to work on your dreams, wait until you get home. Even if you work seven days a week, you can use at least a modicum of your free time to work on other projects. Yes, you’ll be tired at the end of the day, but if you set aside time for yourself, it can be achieved.

What you do in your private life and what you believe in your own mind are nobody else’s business but your own. Your mind is a personal haven where you can say or do whatever you want. You can have violent fantasies, sexual fantasies, adventures, and other trains of thought without invasion. Yes, people will try to invade your private sanctuary with insults and abuse, which is why it’s important to maintain your individuality and suppress thoughts of conforming to your haters. Being an individual is a skill, but as long as you remember who you are and why you do what you do, it can be done.

I’m currently reading another one of Andy Peloquin’s books and it’s called “Child of the Night Guild”. The opening scenes depict a cruel drill instructor named Master Velvet trying to force small children to obey him at all times by starving them, beating them, and screaming at them. While the children do bend to his will, I’ll bet you anything that somewhere in their minds they’re thinking about kicking this guy in the nuts. He controls them by changing their birth names to numbers, but other than lost memories, I still wonder why these kids don’t just gang up on Master Velvet and beat him into powder.

There’s no rule that says you have to like what you do for a living or like who’s in charge. There’s also no rule that says you can’t use your employment as a stepping stone for bigger and better things. You can work at a convenience store, pay your bills, and set aside some money to publish that next great novel of yours. It doesn’t happen right away and your soul will feel crushed from time to time, but it can be done. Everyone tells you how hard it is to be an artist, but nobody tells you how hard it is NOT to be an artist. Think of all your favorite authors, actors, and musicians and what they had to go through to get to where they are today. And yet, they managed to achieve their dreams.

Putting on a grocery store apron doesn’t make you a zealot any more than earning a paycheck makes you a conformist. Do what you need to do to survive and then be yourself when you come back to your private life. If you like wearing rock band T-shirts, put one on when you get home. If you like watching Real Time with Bill Maher even though your boss likes watching The O’Reilly Factor, watch Bill Maher’s show when you get home.

If you need help remembering who you are, surround yourself with friends and family who believe in you. You might have to search far and wide to find these people, but it’s worth it. It might even be as easy as doing an internet search. Someone out there loves you for who you are. Not everybody wants you to change into something you’re not. No, you don’t have to conform to society in order to survive. Society isn’t always going to be your friend. Only people who love and respect you can be part of your own society. Do what makes you happy and be with people who will make you happy. You deserve the best, always.


***DEMON AXE, CHAPTER 11***

I somehow have the feeling that there should be a transition chapter between 10 and 11. But as it is, when chapter 10 ends with a bonfire argument, chapter 11 begins with a heavy metal concert at another venue. Daniel Mercer instantly forms a new band with members of I Am Death and Juice and they miraculously know how to play Demon Axe songs. Monk robes, scary masks, and crazy stage names aside, the new band won’t be called Demon Axe. It’ll be a combination of those three bands: Demon Death Juice. Again, these things happen instantaneously even though concerts sometimes take weeks or even months to book in advance, not to mention hours of practice the bands have to go through to get their songs right. Do we have time for rational solutions to the transition problem? Could months pass without another terrorist attack from Roger Zee? I need to sit on this one for a while before I write the damn thing.


***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Uneven tits aside, I’d say that Raven Triscloud turned out well. Now it’s time to draw a villain since a hero was featured in the last picture. That’s how I’m going to pump out Dark Fantasy Warriors: hero, villain, hero, villain, hero, villain. This time, we’ve got Carla Madder, the razor-toothed, overweight madam from the Poison Tongue Tales 2 story “Shield Me”. This woman could easily be the most frightening character I have and that’s saying something considering most of my villains are psychotic necrophiles who rape and murder without mercy.


***MIXED-MARTIAL ARTS QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Love me or hate me, just debate me.”

-Ronda Rousey-


***POST-SCRIPT***


I just found out that Ronda Rousey lost to Amanda Nunes at UFC 207 via TKO in under a minute. That makes me sad. It also makes me wonder where she’ll go from here now that she lost two title matches in a row. The last time she lost a UFC fight was when she dropped the Women’s Bantamweight Championship against Holly Holm. She considered suicide after that match. After her first stare down with Nunes, she needed to be consoled. If I could hug Ronda right now, I would.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Fear

VERSE 1
Fear is a hangman’s noose on my throat
Fear is the one that chokes out the hope
Fear chills my blood like frozen death
Fear takes me like a shot of crystal meth
Fuck fear and everything that comes with it
Fuck fear and everyone selfish and wicked
Rise above anxiety and breathe clean air
Conquer the battle that is so damn unfair


CHORUS
There’s nothing to fear but fear itself
So put your cowardice on the shelf
Your only hero in life is your own self
Set your soul on fire and give them hell


VERSE 2
Did you really think your taller stature
Would cause my backbone to fracture?
Did you really think your toothless face
Would burn my eyes like a can of mace?
Did you really think all the drugs you took
Won’t make you just a footnote in my book?
Bitch, please, you’re not in my league
You don’t have the power to rape and siege


CHORUS
There’s nothing to fear but fear itself
So put your cowardice on the shelf
Your only hero in life is your own self
Set your soul on fire and give them hell


VERSE 3
The monsters in my closet are hallucinations
Brought about from childhood devastation
I see the world for what it truly has become
An insane asylum for the wicked and dumb
Fear is something that used to take hold
Now I have the courage to do something bold
Iron gauntlets with a hint of dragon’s fury
You’re the one who should stutter and worry


CHORUS
There’s nothing to fear but fear itself
So put your cowardice on the shelf
Your only hero in life is your own self
Set your soul on fire and give them hell