Here Now Lies Concordance

I was rooting around through a few of my old writings, and I found a little story I'd written a while back. I don't quite remember when. Maybe it was a year ago, maybe more.

Here now lies concordance...



The car stood motionless in in it's grave, an artificial pyre with no one to drive it. The whole city followed suit, with no one there to manage the flames. It was obvious why there was no driver, no warriors trying to quell the riotous fire; the city was a vast cemetery, where the dead did not rest easily. The dying skyscrapers twisted and contorted into monstrous burning fingers, scratching at the clouds. Entire blocks of the ruined city became the molten hands of the dead, clutching at the sky for something, anything to hold on to. With the screams of warping metal, even these monolithic beasts of steel lost the struggle for life, and with their last breaths they collapsed to the burning earth below.

We stood motionless, watching the city die, both entranced by the enormity of this destruction, and sobered by the knowledge that it was our doing. From the corner of my eye, I saw her turn to look at me. "Fire purifies." she told me. Without facing her I gave the same three words that I had said countless times that night, "No, fire destroys." This dialog had become our mantra.

This time, however, it struck something deep inside of her. She pulled me around, so that we were face to face. I was no longer staring at the city but instead at the growing inferno of hatred in her eyes. I had hoped this would stave her appetite, this destruction, but it seemed to have only given her a taste of blood. Now she wanted more. I could see her madness growing, her hunger, her desire. Lit by the burning wreckage, she was truly something to behold. I believed that in that very instant she could have been the Angel of Death.

She told me one last time, "Fire purifies." I did not bother responding this time, but hugged her tight to me. With her small body against mine, I did the only thing I could think to do, the only thing that seemed right.

12/21/2012

I keep wondering if there's any truth to it. They say the world is going to end in 5 years. It's the end of the great cycle, a time that started more than five thousand years ago. If it is true, if we're to die in five years, then I suppose I need not worry about it anyway. I'll just sit back and relax, watching the end. I suppose it will be a great show. It'll be a bit of a disappointment if it's mundane. I do hope there's something good to see.

I'll just sit back, relax, watch, and maybe listen to Efterklang the whole way through.

I have come curiously close to the end,

I suspect so anyway. My wits are at their respective ends, some so tangled that they've not even sure which end is which. I'm fried, fucked, forlorn, forsaken, fubludgeoned, etc. I'm just a general mess. Goodnight.

e^(pi*i)=-1

Don't ask me why, but it's true. Don't ask me why a lot of things happen. It's just a sick sad little world. At least we know we're breathing when we plug our ears in at the discotheque, but even then I wonder is it live or is it memorex? I have to play at the coffeehouse on Friday. Do I want to? No. Do I need to? Yeah. shit...


RIT still hasn't finished fucking up my aid package. shit... Oh well; it'll be finished soon enough I hope. But don't worry, I can always give up.

Strike That

1. I haven't had a good night's sleep in.... I don't know how long it's been to be honest. I haven't felt rested in weeks. My brain function is slowing, becoming less logical. My body is screaming in agony with every move I make. I've lost the will to do much of anything other than sleep, but I never seem to have the chance to, or when I do, I can't.
2. I'm in one of those moods again, have been for a while, where everything seems utterly futile [see Cthulhu]. It's not a nice feeling, and it keeps raping me of what little drive I have left. I can attribute a large part of my misery to my job, which I'm soon going to quit, but something below the surface seems wrong, something intangible. It's been bugging me a lot, perhaps making me more frustrated and depressed because I can't figure out what's depressing me entirely.
3. This is a fucked up world.

Three strikes I'm out...

Cthulhu

I seem to have this growing obsession with Cthulhu, that lovely beast conjured up by Lovecraft. I don't think that any figure of literature has as large of a cult following as Cthulhu, yet no one can agree on what he looks like. The general rules stay the same, green, tentacles, claws, big, but that is about it.

How is it that so popular a figure can be so indefinite? It makes me wonder what we insignificant little people, tiny compared to Cthulhu in both stature and fame, could hope to expect in terms of recognition. Will anyone remember me after I die? Does anyone know what I look like once I've left the room? How many people know which scars are where, which ear is missing its helix.

All these things about me seem significant...

to me. I wonder if they're significant to anyone else. How many people look at me and say, "Gee I didn't know that was there...". How many of those people see me every day? How many people truly know who I am, what I do, what I want? Out of those people who know, who really gives a damn?

It's more than slightly overwhelming. My entire life has been a struggle to make myself known. I've always wanted to be important, somehow, someway. 17 years of effort thus far and all I have to show for it is a handful of friends, a girlfriend, and a mediocre musical ability. Woohoo...

When I think about this I realize now why Cthulhu was so evil. He was always so unknown, the x factor, the transient, the nobody. Nobody paid much attention to him, unless he was going about doing his evil deeds. He wasn't truly evil, he was just someone looking for a little fame, looking for someone to recognize him. It's times like these that I can't help but feel sorry for the poor brute.

i-V-iv-V7-i-V/biv-biv-i

I just had the idea while at work tonight, "Hey, I have a blog don't I?" I've made one post and then promptly forgetten about it, sad in a sense. Well, here I am, trying to revive this poor excuse for a blog.

I won't sleep tonight, even though I'm exhausted. It's 9:40 and I have to be awake atleast another 1.5 hours, which means I can sleep at 11:10. After that, I would have roughly 3.5 hours to sleep, or else I miss my bus, and thus my train. So, I think it would be wiser not to sleep tonight, and just compensate for that during my lengthy train ride.

If you're wondering what the title of this blog means [you non-music kids], it's a chord progression that's become a favorite of mine. I've never seen nor heard this progression outside of my own doing. Infact, I've gotten into several arguements about what it really is. [no I won't elaborate.]

I know people expect some structure from me, however conveluted it seems you expect it to pull together in the end, but I assure you, this doesn't. I am exhausted and simply jotting down thoughts.

Goodnight you shining stars.