I think I could thunk

I dreamed of a simplier time.
A time whilst the wind blew and I was carried off on a parasol. Maybe not one of those but a fucking Marry Poppin umbrella with jet boosters of course.
Because after all having propolusion is indicative of flight.
Therfore, I'd sit in a chair pondering the idea of flight. Not the Wright Brothers or the Wrong Brothers but no one.
It'd be an ascent if there is a word like that to the golden heavens. It'd be a lift-off of immense force that would propell me fully skyward. Not Skyward Sword but skyward into the deep stratosphere.
I guess that means a breathing apparatus is dully required. For if it is not then I'd die.
How simple could a time be? As the wind blew and the propolusion spattered away the wind was the wind and the flying craft was obedient. How could a craft be obedient? Nay, it did not have a master but the craft was powered by telekentic-touch. And thus when the craft was powered the jets burst downward like water fire. The whirring and the whinning would mean that is working with full power. And thus it would need a silver and elongated power tube. Another item it would need is a fuel gauge. You can't get to the stratosphere on good looks.
Up!
Up!
Up!
Whoosh!
Higher!
This is what the craft would do is just climb and climb. Then it would just hover above the barren lands and stay stagnant. It would just chill. It would just quiet . The engine if it had one would hum very easily along. The rays of light would hit the craft with immense beautifull golden shots of light. It would dawn on the foremost part of the craft. It would reflect me. It would reflect the simplier times.
....and then without warning some complicated ooze would forever climb to the top of the whitest marble tower. It would slime its way up the tower and fight its way to the craft. Somehow without warning it would attack the craft and extend itself towards it. It at this time had engulfed the tinged gray and beautifully decked out steel craft. Then the blackish-purple-brown ooze would cover all the craft in complications.
Therfore, somehow the craft was not a simple craft anymore. The ooze dripped off the beautifully crested craft and fell to the earth. Now and only now it was uber complicated. It had a breathing apparatus on the top. It had a plethora of colors other than silver or gray. It had 20 propulsion systems all tethered together.
It even had an engugorgarius-capicator on the rind. In the middle were complicated computer and calculator buttons. An HD display was presented on the front. The craft's transformation was more than I thought, or could have thought.
Did I want a simple time or a complicated time where overthoughts are better than underthoughts. Where calculations were not freeing but constricting much to that of an exotic purple boa. Did I want a time where black and grey coincided?
I am not sure what I wanted.
All, I knew is it was here.
_V


I love to write and make up a lot of stuff. I just write to practice. I feel that this helps me.

On a side note I am excited for Destiny. I am not sure what to think about Phantom Pain.
And what's this I hear about coming home or the adventure game when you're in a house.
Either way game on!

Consuming the harvest

Consuming the harvest

Posted on August 27, 2013 by andres256

Consuming the harvest was not based on conservation.
The locust ate at night. They fed on the dead that had come to past.
Balance was highly unnecessary for the dead black fields provided no comfort.
Barren as they were blackened flowers only wilted to the sound of darkened drums.
Skeletons marched on the marsh as they witnessed souls being stolen from the graven earth.
“Fear the locust.” the commoners cried as blackness drooped from all corners of the earth.
Little children in dirty blue suspenders would clamber down the dilapidated broken white steps. This was Arabic marble and had been glossed over with a silver sheen. The sheen kicked up the reflection of the dirty children with the blue suspenders.
The  meaty stench filled the air as the skeletons walked forward. There were no screams only heavy purple fog that blanketed the western front…

Is it really right for your parents to bitch at you for all eternity

I am really getting sick of my parent's bitching.

I mean what the fuck. Saying things like retirement is around the corner.

Oh that time frame is around three years allegedly.

Then I remember I am outta school in the real world. A world where shit hits the fan a million miles a second. A time where statistics make up the majority of nasty unemployment.

Did you know 24+ year olds have a 24% unemployment rate?http://money.cnn.com/2013/06/25/news/economy/malemployment-rate/index.html My bad that shit says fucking 36%.

How is this not a problem that government can't fucking remedy? I am sure this has been written a billion times.  Let's look at again.

I am a recent graduate just like the other people taking jobs at Starbuck's and other fucking places like that. Sure, Starbucks is maybe a decent place to work but where the FUCK did you get your degree. Weren't you a journalism major, nursing major, law student.
This has gotten goddamn ridiculous.

Nobody has any accountability. No organization is going to make jobs or the place that makes them doesn't exist. We are getting fucked by loans, taxes, and other shit. Although, for now we can take out the tax element ...because I don't work.

It'd be one thing if I threw in the towel and said I never looked for a job. I have applied a small amount. I have applied for maybe 37 jobs. That's nothing compared to the whopping 100 my brother applied to.  I mean the deepest in the job process I got was three interviews. It looked promising but something wasn't right and these bastards wouldn't tell you. The people of a company Ethos seemed to make a legit job posting. Although, like the movie Eraserhead everything looked good but there was a nasty undertone under it all. That seemed to be after the third interview that I was lied to. I guess this should be a great term in real life. In the real world people do conniving things, they will trample you to run to the top. Although, lying is something they must pride themselves on. It was a fucking door-to-door job. I didn't get a bachelors to be subjugated to door-to-door shit. So I did the smart thing and denied the job.

Although, I smashed every interview. It is sad that a company that seems great is crooked.

That's the real world. Although, I still believe in good people in this world it has been negative. The year getting out of school has been more than rough. I got outta college and it was a great time.

But now....shit a comet could hit and be better than the agonizing suffering that is this poor excuse for an economy. So who makes the jobs?

Let's see:

I have no idea. If it isn't the government maybe it is an elf or some shit, Clearly, this economy reflects  the poor times.

I am just happy to write. It gives me an outlet to vent. I tried to make it sensible.

My worries are basic:

Food

Shelter

Eventually a place to live

Video games is a necessity to me...lol

JOBS!!

I'll put jobs on the third rank. Jobs are important for guys and gals like me. I am not falling on entitlement but I can't stand here idly when we are getting dicked from everything. I was already dicked by my uni. There has to be some semblance of not getting screwed somewhere. A safe haven.

Thanks for reading.

It means a great deal even though my tone is not somber and very fiery.

Thank you David Lynch!

Falling through the sky: An ethereal journey

Falling through the sky

Posted on July 16, 2013by andres256

I don’t know how the FUCK to explain this but do you ever feel that you fall through the sky?

I mean sometimes it feels this vessel that we call a body is not operating at full capacity. Falling , falling and more falling through the sky. What the fuck does that mean?

What is the rhythm that is used writing this? I mean sometimes it feels like I am not in control of the vessel. Why refer to the body as a vessel. If we are spirit energy are we in a vessel? Or do we just float in time and space?

Contemplative words make it so you do think about what is going on. Is there any way we don’t operate at full capacity? Sometimes I feel I am not in control. This is bad. Real bad.

……

So if you do fall through a proverbial sky I think you have to have a fail safe system. Something your body has to tell you you’re in control.

Think about it. We don’t live in delusional states. We live with control. And yet sometimes it is an etheral feeling. Why?

I don’t fucking know. Most the time I have control over my temple. Enough control to let the vessel know I am in control.

Plus, you need to watch Being John Malkovich.

I am just tired and need rest. Lately, I have been angry. It is not the universe’s fault or god’s fault . It is just a hard life lesson that apparently I have a hard time comprehending.

We are more complicated creatures.

-V

Listening to Redman and where my life's at

Listening to Redman and where my life’s at

Posted on June 26, 2013by andres256

Listening to Redman is good shit. I mean when you’re grooving to his rhymes it is good stuff.

Good god, this has been the most productive summer ever. All work. Yeah, I guess that’s what happens when you get outta school.

Shit!

Well, I am saving up for my trip to Florida. All though, due to NSA reason I can’t tell you where exactly. Those fuckers always keeping tabs on us…dear Krejci that’s not cool.

I am reading a book called Neuromancer. So far so good as it is about a hacker is what I can tell.

Although, maybe he’s not a hacker but a data thief. Anyway this guy named Case has to steal data from a big corporation.

I am highly intrigued by all the sci-fi-ness to the book. The terminology is a lot. The author is fucking bright.

Also, hopefully, dear god, if my fucking brother gets his head outta his ass we can start our show.

More details coming if ya’ll peepz are interested.

Peace

-A

MGK!

Machine Gun Kelley spits some serious flow or venom or some other shit.

What do you spit?

Not errybody is a rapper but there are many a poets.

A rapper falls in the woods. Who hears him?
LOL!

Fuck it!
Yo1
Fuck it!
Yo
Fuck it
Yo
But why would I say anything to this degree.
All tongue twisted and none to tired ya see.
I am triyng to use the fucking word Eyre.
But it don't fit in no sentences.
So we light that stack and smoke them Benjamins.
Flow so steady track ripping all we do is zip-zipper.
Flow so hard it would need an insurance all it's own.
Flow so hard that it makes and takes and groans.
To all the peepz hustling do yo thang.
Fuck what the haters drink and stink and think.
Cerebral input got your gun locked and so is your brain with a muthafucking knock-knock.
Wasting away is the depressive -ass unhealthy state.
Flow so hard ya gunna need a gun plate.

What's up with me. What the fuck is up with you?
Seriously.
Seriously.
You said seriously twice it is like you try to garner for views.

I had  a really weird dream today. I was in it. I was really in it. The walls were all in. They were close way too close. And it was my sister and family that were in some crazy ass fucking Middle Eastern town. There were Arabs all around us. But all a sudden gun fired erupted and a blaze of glory followed. It was a loud and even louder crackling sound. It got even worse. There was a particular zone where red circles or lights were and if someone stood in this shit you'd die. Literally, a fucking bullet would excise itself in your mellon.
Once I saw my sister go towards the red light I got scared. She took a bullet in the belly and went down. I grabbed my mom and told her not to go after my sister. Because there is no sense in letting two people die.

Light flushed in through a couple windows and I knew I was in trouble. A man of Middle Eastern descent chased me for a long while. I caught my breath and saw him running balls crazy at me. He was shouting something in Arabic. I was scared and my adrenaline pumped almost out of my skeleton. It was sweltering but the light beamed on. He cornered me and I wanted cold vengeance for the death of my sister. He decided to corner me under the stairs. He took out a pointy nail object and fucking stabbed me. I took the first blow and could do nothing. But from no where I cut him and he fell to the ground with the knife part of the X-acto blade. When he was on the ground I took the X-acto knife and cut him in half starting at his abdomen. The guts stank and I was blood-heated and full of fury. He was cut in half and green stuff spilled out of him. I woke up but not in sweat. Just really, really, really, worried. The rhythm of the dream was very violent.
I am not sure what to make of it. But it scared the shit outta me.


Hopefully, everybody is doing well.
_S

Let's be real

We hold on for hope and jobs

Posted on March 12, 2013by andres256

I am a new graduate with a Bachelor’s in Journalism?

And for what?

To be fucking yelled at by my parents. To have suggestions to go get jobs I don’t want.

To fucking being indebted and ball and chained by loans. This shit is not cool.

The United States is slowly crumbling financially…but then again so is the world.

Let’s be real.

I thought when I got outta school I would have landed one fucking, fucking, fucking job. No instead I moseyed on to a two month internship. I was asked to take on a project and I worked hard,.

And then fuck it like a bullet out of a gun I was shot out on to my ass. “The lady that broke her leg is coming back we don’t have any room for you.”

Well, that is telling it like it is.

These economic times which are very hard deprave college students of jobs. Our country can’t pass a budget and immigrants from all over are taking jobs from college grads.

This thing in the back of my mind this itch has got to me telling myself that it was worth it.

I will find something I will make money from.

I will earn a living .

And by fuck I will back the goddamn student third party loans.

Hold your head up high! 

Here’s a quote.

“It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light.“
Aristotle Onassis
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