DeathsRing

It's strange to have noticed a distinct change within yourself. To look in the mirror on the first day you're allowed a moment to entertain yourself and wonder just who's staring back at you. He's no longer the same person anymore. His eyes are hard, and his stature gives him an inch or two more where there were previously none to be found. Shoulders considered broad by natural standards are now wide and squared, and his posture suggests a constant vigilance unbefitting of his unassuming position. Once upon a time, you might have been another loser. Living with your parents, you may have spent time playing video games, or carousing with frie

Another subway writing. I'm sitting on the train for what, I think, will be the last time I ever ride into Atlanta towards my old college. I need to work out some problems with the financial aid paperwork, and I never thought I'd be coming back. So this trip, in and of itself, is sort of spontaneous, and I'm not sure what to make of it. But after making my decision to abandon college, and instead attempt to further my writing through world-experience and all that jazz, I realize there is one thing I will most definitely miss out of all of this. The subway. The people on the subway are...colorful. I mean that in the most abstract way, not to

It's 7:07 AM, and I haven't slept a wink since the night before. I don't want to do the math, but now it's the day after Thanksgiving, and I haven't gotten a bit of shut-eye. There's something really surreal about Black Friday, I've found. A lot of crazy old ladies, and strapping husbands and young sons out fetching things for their respective wife or mother so that they don't have to be up so early for the 'Doorbuster' events. I went to one of those about 3 hours ago. We got to our local Target around 4 AM, even though they opened at five. Styrofoam cups full of coffee, and donuts from the local convenience store were like fuel for our prov

Here's something for everyone to think about. Today is Thursday. November fifth. The only reason I know is because I got my hair cut today, chopped off all of the flowing locks and replaced them with short, thick spikes. I dig it. Anyways, here you go. ++ Fear is the glue that binds us. Holds us together like a fragile bundle of dipsticks, put together by an adolescent superior, a maker with the mind of a child. Fear is the only thing that makes us real, makes us feel, like machines. The cold metal we wrap ourselves in is just an excuse, we've got no use, for pointless microchips, microprocessors, microsociety. Smaller and s

I've been writing a lot more lately. I'm not sure what my motivation is. Maybe it's the medication that I've been prescribed by my doctor, putting the extra energy I have to work, or maybe I finally just realized that this is what I've wanted to do for a long time. There were always excuses. Something always came up, and I never had time to really just sit and think about what I enjoyed. It took a recent conversation with someone, and taking my own advice, to realize that I'm on the wrong track. Maybe, with time, I could be a big video producer. Possibly, I could get into the digital video and film angle and make something of myself. It's lu

I did a good thing today. At least, I'm fairly certain I did. I went to WalMart, a super-center not too far from my house. Downloading new games onto my computer, I came to the sudden realization that I didn't have a headset to use, and so I had to frantically search my house for one. Finding none that suited my purposes, I counted what was in my wallet and decided I could afford the expense, which is usually how things go. I'm an impulsive spender, I don't quite think thing's through when I buy them. I go, and get, and later I regret it sorely because I want something else. Moving on. I found what I was looking for in WalMart. A USB head

I saw the first signs of Fall today. They were in the trees. The sun was rising just above the tops of the largest ones, and when I looked out the window I could see, clearly, the veins of red and orange that were beginning to filter through the still-green leaves. In a way, it was far more beautiful than the trees in their prime. This change could've been considered a decline. A detraction. But instead, I found that it resembled more of an evolution. The trees had adapted. Like a human who, in the cold weather, puts on a jacket to stay warm the trees also consciously alter themselves to weather the seasons more efficiently. It was the first

       I'm going to talk to you, now.       It hasn't been that long. Just a day, really, but I'm already thinking again. Considering the implications of destructive essays and wondering, once more, just how far I'll go before something stops me. I've often reflected upon what it would be like, in essence, to revel in a purer state of mind. That is, to live without the constant concious choice to put on the mask I wear every day. The mask that further hides my dangerous ideas, and unclean ideals--the ones that I never tell anybody about. What if, for example, I just decided not to smile for a whole day?       Would anyone notice?      

       I'm going to talk to you now.        You're probably not going to like what's going to be said, but I have to say it. By the time I'm finished, most would hate me or love me, but in this respect I'm steadfast. Here, in this place, at this time, I'll just be one of you, won't I? Another artist, tapping merrily away upon the keyboard, spillings ruminations across a digital paper that will likely be lost in time.        That's right, isn't it? Nothing's permanent. Nothing is constant except the celestine, and I'm alright with that.

       The road was swallowed up beneath the underside of my car as I shot down the road, a rather recent black-top that was an addition to the older "Highway 16" which spanned the length of the city of Sharpsburg and Turin. The ride to my last destination crossed 4 cities, and took 30 minutes, which was good time considering that 16 was a busy road. When you take the drive, it's 30 minutes from the edge of Newnan, the City of Homes, to the place I had headed, which was a little subdivision off of "Old Hw 16", as the road-sign said.       Now, as I flew down the road, pausing only long enough to glance both ways before turning left onto ano