I have a dark side to me.
I think everyone does, but mine is the only one I have experience with, and as far as what I’ve seen from others, mine is much more pronounced.
I’m not a danger to anyone, I am perfectly in control and balanced. But it’s an interesting part of me. I only really discovered it because of the dark dark places my mind was pushed to as a result of my home and childhood growing up. It was wild, and very frightening then. It took me a lot to master it.
I mentioned balanced earlier, because I think it’s key to have darkness and light in ones life. It’s like an saying by an old shaman, “Too much darkness will swallow you up, too much light will burn you to ash. Only in the middle does the world exist.” And to be sufficiently balanced, one must have both extremes in equal parts.
Does this mean I am capable of extreme good as well? I know myself to be a overall pretty good person, but is there levels of it I cannot currently fathom and yet somehow access? I really don’t know, but in order to balance this dark part of me, it must at least be possible, right?
I don’t really know the answer, I’ll search for it. But I do know that the key to true enlightenment, be it divine or personal, is to embrace all aspects of one’s persona. And so, I occasionally indulge my inner darkness, within limits. I keep a rein on it, but allow it to run out a bit every once in a while. After all, repression only exacerbates things like that. Like a dog, all parts of oneself deserve a little exercise, lest they get restless and cause some destruction. The problem with aspects of one’s personality is that they destroy you, and the damage can be permanent.
I sometimes am a little ashamed of the thoughts that this darker part of me spawns, but I try to acknowledge that it is a part of me and try and learn from it. After all, one can’t listen to every thought their mind comes up with, for minds are imperfect and frequently demented.
Blood channels and flows like a waterway,
Not delivering water,
But focusing what parts of yours has all the power,
Its a shocking truth to find out,
That your brain rarely holds the reins.
Your genitals are familiar with your controls,
And know just what buttons of yours to push,
It sometimes gives lessons to your stomach it is so knowledgeable,
Can you really say you are the master of your own body,
When all of your organs are vying for control of you?
And do you fight it.
Or just enjoy the ride that is the bloodflow?
Every impulse in us,
Is a reaction in our brain,
A constant flux of organic chemicals,
That comprise our very being,
Reaction in and reaction out,
Maintaining a fragile equilibrium.
But does that mean we are nothing,
Than a pile of simultaneous reactions,
Is everything about us accidental?
For there is no chemical formula for will,
For thought, memory, and drive,
We may have vague inklings in our chemistry,
But they are meaningless to us unless we let them be,
After all, love is just a chemical,
But it us who chose to give it meaning.
Faeries are always a bit naughty,
Tiny little nymphos who are kinky,
They’re into all kinds of stuff you see,
And fisting a faerie only requires your pinky.
The minotaurs and centaurs are a mobile lot,
They ride to horizons and and ride people under nights,
And you’ve never truly seen the clouds,
When you’ve fucked a harpy in mid-flight.
You’ve never seen the true beauty of a full moon,
Until under one you learn a lycaness’ taste,
And bondage is just pale and boring,
After you’ve had a lamia wrapped round your waist.
But sex and pleasure are just perks,
That help one see things in a new way,
I saw so much more of the world,
When with these unique ladies I did play.
Keep an open mind to the quirks of the world,
Don’t be afraid to get a little kinky,
Wide eyed wonders lay all around you,
So go out and see all the unorthodox beauty.
Sheets stained in cum,
And a sweat covered bum,
Could mean happy times are here,
Or just a lonely fool,
Playing with their tool,
And doing it constantly, all year.
Their perversions run amok,
They need someone to fuck,
But their lust is here to stay,
But with a couple of quirks,
Their left to their solitary works,
And perversion could be quelled with a good lay.
The fate of humanity was dismal.
An ever increasing world populace meant there were significantly less and less resources to go around. All forms of population control were heavily debated and eventually shot down by the mass religious complexes of the world. Population grew and grew, but without a predator to thin the herd, humanity seemed doomed to starvation and overcrowding.
It wasn’t just the population that was a problem though, mass production and consumerism ran through nonrenewable resources such as petroleum and metals at an ever increasing rate. There was always demand, but continually dwindling supplies, so the prices skyrocketed. People often went without food and other needs to have these produced goods, which became needs of their own in this mass produced culture. All of these would run out soon enough, and we would have nothing. Our dependency on these things would leave us with no time to develop alternatives, and we would be long dead before a solution could be developed.
In light of this, Dr. Louis Retton dedicated decades of his life to producing a solution to this daunting problem. It was on July 22, 2042, that he met with all the world’s leaders to discuss what would be known as Project Permanence.
Dr. Retton’s team of experimental physicists had developed something that humanity had only seen in movies and stories, a device capable of reducing the size of physical objects. It was the key to Project Permanence. He presented his case to the world leaders, a plan to reduce the world’s populace to 1/100,000th of it’s size, and relocate them to a scale city-state built to house them. Their reduced size would turn sparsity into plenty, and would leave the educated populace indefinite time to produce the solutions to the world’s problems. The only ones left unshrinken would be a small collection of farmers to produce the micro-world’s food supply, and a small unified military force to protect the micro-world. It took days of argument, but eventually, the plan was enacted.
And so, over the course of several years, every human settlement was shrunken and placed in a secure bunker in the center of the United States. It all seemed to work perfectly, once a week the farmers and workers would deliver shipments to the soldiers and micro-nation, an apple alone could feed the entire condensed planet, and the reduced populace and resource consumption let everyone live a life of comfort and plenty.
It was during one of these shipments, when a soldier was delivering the portions of food and materials to the micro-nation, that a fly slipped in past the closing door. The soldier didn’t notice it until he placed the shipment onto the receiving pad, and out of the corner of his eye spotted the fly walking about on the top of the dome. In a reflex long trained into his psyche, he leaned over and slapped at the fly. He missed, as we all do, but he also lost his balance, and went toppling forward. His body landed on the domed world, and unable to sustain his weight, it came collapsing down. His body alone destroyed 70% of the mini world, the falling glass did away with the rest.
The world was now left with a small population of farmers, and a small population of soldiers. Just a little over 100 human beings total. But it turned out that the problems that plagued the world were not an issue for the survivors. The root of the problem had been removed. But, now there were just over 100 humans left, with no civilization and limited technology left. Without them ruining the environment, the predatory animal’s population skyrocketed, and for the first time ever, humanity’s population was kept in check. We lost our position at the top of the food chain, because we proved we didn’t deserve it.
I sit in a center room,
With miles of maze sprawled in front of me,
The ever shifting walls and paths,
Make it impossible to escape,
So I must sit,
I’m going mad from the waiting,
Each hour takes a chunk out of my sanity,
Tarnishing myself in the stagnant air,
Driving another nail into my flesh,
And yet I still must wait,
I must wait for someone,
To come and find me,
I can’t escape from the labyrinth,
So I rely on others,
Others who never come,
They either turn at first sight of the maze,
Or turn back when they grow tired,
And yet I still have to wait,
For one to cross the threshold into my cell,
Hoping I am not so disappointing a prize,
That they’d leave me there,
To rot and rust away,
I’d gladly pit myself against goblins,
To save a town’s populace.
My body is worth nothing to me,
I’d give it up just for the chance to save others.
And I’d return battered and bloody,
To a grateful town’s smiles.
I’d throw myself against Behemoths,
To save those in their warpath,
I’d drive a spear right in it’s heart,
And in doing so win people’s hearts,
I’d have all my broken limbs,
Tended by a hopeful women,
Utterly smitten with my selflessness,
And I’d give them all a smile that said,
I’d gladly do it again and again.
I’d charge against a Dragon,
Just for those shining grateful eyes,
I’d stab at it with justice and valor,
Never once even thinking of my safety,
I’d conquer the beast to save others,
And slay 1000 more,
For a hero’s work is never done,
And he never ceases earning admiration.
But there are no place for heroes today,
No dragons that need to be slain,
And for one who values himself as so little,
He has no place,
And earns no admiration,
So his mind turns to the dragon’s he’d gladly slay.
Knowledge comes hand in hand with alone,
For knowledge had so declared,
That in exchange, it must have a price.
For all knowledge there must be pain,
And no wisdom can be given for free,
If you try and share knowledge you have so paid for,
With one who had not paid in agony,
It wither’s and dies, into a crude facsimile,
Much like a lepprechaun’s gold.
Those who have paid so dear,
Will find themselves standing on lonely peaks,
So few recognize the price,
While others revel in ignorance, free of hurt,
The folly of knowledge is that for it’s price,
So few will pay for it,
While the educated few stare at cosmos in solitude.
It was either the smell in the air or the cheap gin that made Alphonse feel like vomiting. Even though the intense waves of nausea broke over him like high tide, he did not move nor make any attempt to head to the bathroom, he had had enough cheap liquor before to know that the best thing right now was to sit still and let it pass. The musty smell of what can only be described as urine, vomit, shame, and despair didn’t help things out. The terrible country music being played over the radio was enough to make one gag, but Alphonse managed to suppress the urge by focusing on the never-ending supply of obscenities and pathos carved into the bar counter. This place, Jim’s Tavern, was so reminiscent of a cliché run down bar that one could feel like they were stepping into a noir film by just walking through the door.
Frame by fame,
Film by film,
Each a little more vile than the last,
With sweat, semen and other secretions scattered about,
All in varying degrees,
There’s ever so much lust stitched in as well,
But subtle traces of anger, sorrow, shame and guilt,
It all is like a complex wine,
But one that briefly intoxicates,
While slowly driving one to madness and horror,
After years drunk.
And yet still,
This maddening drink and hobby,
Is one of the few things keeping society together,
Proof we all need a bit of insanity,
And a good solid fuck as well.