Here's to you.

Hey there, you.
You the few.
Sitting there alone and scared.
Feeling sad and unprepared.
Like the world has smashed you thin.
Like you just don't fit in.
Well here is news for you, the few.
I have always felt that way too.
But we two, we few, do not have to be scared.
We do not have to be unprepared.
We do not have to be uncomfortable on our own.
Because we two, we few..
Are not alone.
We are not two.
We are not even few.
Everywhere you look, we are.
On the sidewalk, in a car.
The teenage girl who lost her boy.
The little guy who broke his toy.
The dying man, slipping through the void...
We are all people, and we are here.
So hold yourself, and hold you dear.
Everyone can feel this way.
There is no need to fear.
It is not you, the few.
It is us, the many.
And together we are ready.

him, or her, or it, or you...

With every woman I play a game
A game that has no name
A game that is famed
But this game is shame.
That is the name of the game.
Change yourself to match what she likes.
Many men learn this as tykes.
Don't be vulnerable or show yourself, lest you end up on her back-up shelf.
Don't be weak. Be a man. Never cry.
This is how you find her before you die.
Don't be weak. Be a man. Never...
Cry.
I just want in someone to confide
So I no longer have to hide.
With him or her to be myself; not end up on the back-up shelf.
This person could be him, or her, or it, or you...
I just don't know what to do.

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With every man I play a game
A game that has no name
A game that is famed
But this game is shame.
That is the name of the game.
Be pretty and be disarming.
Maybe the next one will be prince charming.
Keep alert and respect yourself, lest you end up a trophy on his shelf.
You must be weak and you can cry. Only the man can dry your eyes.
This is how you find him before you die.
You must be weak and you can cry. Only...
I can dry my eyes.
I just want in someone to confide
Someone who lets me dry my own eyes.
With him or her to be myself; not end as a trophy on a shelf.
This person could be him, or her, or it, or you...
I just don't know what to do.

Ramblings of no one: Me

I sit here on my laptop, pondering.
Wandering.
Wondering.
Why am I here? What am I supposed to do?
As always I am met with silence and more questions.
I look around the world and see varied complexions
and beating hearts within
And still they kill self and each other
Bathing in red sin.
He's black, she's white, he has blonde hair...
After all this time and complication
Should one really care?
Every day I ponder this, and more...
But all that lies ahead for me is a part time job in a liquor store.
And so I lie and cry and wait
For someone, something to change my fate.
...
But it will never be.
No grandiose events will propel me into action
No royal decree
The only one who can make a difference in this life
is me.

"Published in College Art Magazine, Thank you!"

First and foremost to my readers and anyone out there that has seen my material I say
Thank you.
Thank you so much.
What started as an outlet for creative "juices" and cathartic "writing therapy" has turned into something else entirely.
When I was introduced to blogging, and I thought the very notion of it was ridiculous.
"Who would read something that I wrote? I have nothing interesting to say."
"Just write, Brian."
I had the above conversation with a professor at my college. Huh. Just write. Seems so simple.
Later, at my desk in my small dorm room in the middle of nowhere, I look upon the views and viewer map of those who visit this blog.
...
What.
Someone actually read what I had posted; people have returned to read what I write.
...
Not only that, one of my writings is being published.
WHAT.
I would like to avoid repeating this often over-used saying (Ahem, Disney films), but there is no avoiding it.
But dreams really do come true.
Thank you.

Brian M. Coon
Author of various scribblings and student

"WHO THE F**K IS MR. TORGUE?!"

Murder McBadass is back!
BITCHES!
A reader asked me a pretty weird-ass question the other day!
This reader was all,
"Dear Murder McBadass,
You sound a lot like Mr. Torgue from the Borderlands video games. Have you met this guy yet? He seems like he would be your cup of tea.
Sincerely
*********" (I censored that shit so this reader could remain anonymous! INTERNET SAFETY IS MANLY!)
So when I was reading this mail I was all
WHO THE F**K IS MR. TORGUE?!
So naturally I had to search the cosmos for answers because using Google is for pansy-ass-bitches!
AND MY INTERNET WAS ALSO DOWN!
Why would this reader say this so called "Mr.Torgue" is my "cup of tea??" I drink mountain dew and whale protein! TEA IS TOO FANCY FOR ME unless I am wearing TWO MONOCLES AND A TOP HAT! 
Plus mountain dew is better! Except for that time it killed my hamster!
I MISS THAT LITTLE BASTARD!
Anyway, here's the shit that I found! (Click the link or you're less than negative ten! THAT IS ONE LESS THAN NEGATIVE NINE!)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KM7hLzhAdD8


...
...
...
EXPLOSION NOISE!
Oh my GOD! This man is PERFECT. He has pecs on his pecs! Mr.Torgue clearly LOVES MOUNTAIN DEW AND WHALE PROTEIN!
If I could potentially be gay it would be for Mr.Torgue!
But lady boobs are too damn nice, am I right guys?! (And ladies! You can't deny that shit!)
Everything that man says is both literally and figuratively gold!
He makes GUNS that EXPLODE????
UNNECESSARY CENSORSHIP!?
HOLY F**KING SH*T THIS MAN IS PERFECT!
Perfection doesn't exist unless it's me or Mr. Torgue!
That reader was right! Mr. Torgue is my cup of Mountain Dew infused with whale protein!
MOUNTAIN DEWFUSIONTEIN...uh...WHALE!
I'm going to go buy an exploding gun and punch some bad guys in the dick!
Peace!
BITCHES!

"Backwards"

What I should care about I simply don't.
What I do care about simply hurts.
Why do I choose to care when there is nothing there?
What I look for is usually on an reachable pedestal or shelf
When I should really just look inside myself.
Constant loneliness and constant pain
Puts a heavy load upon my brain.
But still I don't know for who or what to care
It is as if I am totally unaware.
Others could perceive me as lazy
But lately, I wonder if I am not just crazy.
I do not see the value of myself
But I see what is upon that unreachable shelf.
I feel as if I'm living backwards
In a world full of hardship and harsh words.
I have capacity to love and cherish
But I end up with wounds most garish.
I'm way too sensitive for this world, it's true.
If only I knew what to do.
I speak to others because I must
Even when I believe it will be a bust.
Why should I start a relationship and think of things to say
When they will just leave me anyway?

"Murder McBadass is BACK! Bitches! With an ANTIDOTE ANECDOTE! Clever use of WORD PLAY!"

EXPLOSION NOISE!

That is is place of a normal formal greeting because THAT IS FOR FAIRIES.
...
WHAT? NO! I AM NOT INSULTING GAY PEOPLE! Gay people are MANLY! Manly is being used here a as a synonym for "GOD DAMN AWESOME!" Get your mind out of the gutter! IT'S LESS THAN CLEANLY IN THERE.
I mean FAIRIES with WINGS. THEY ARE QUITE FORMAL. They have balls (Ballroom dances with dresses'n shit, you dirty birdie!) and wear monocles'n shit! Their books are so fancy that they need a SECOND MONOCLE to read'em!
THAT IS ONE MORE MONOCLE THAN ONE.
READING HELPS WITH BRAIN DEVELOPMENT. I also imagine all of the characters as Christopher Walken in my head! Because he is the 59th hottest woman alive!
EXPLOSION NOISE!
Hear that?! That was me watching "The Christopher Walken Dead!"
ALL THE ZOMBIES ARE CHRISTOPHER WALKEN! Best. Show. EVER!
Anyway! You bitches came here for an anidotal anecdote! (ANTIDOTAL IS NOW A WORD. DEAL WITH IT.)
A story about poison'n backstabbin' and shit!
Long story short I accidentally gave my ripped pet hamster caffeine poisoning by making him chug mountain dew!
I felt so terrible that I gave him MORE MOUNTAIN DEW.
Nothing washes the taste of Mountain Dew out of your mouth like more Mountain Dew! This same logic obviously applies to caffeine poisoning!
MORE CAFFEINE MEANS LESS CAFFEINE.
But don't try that shit with beer! You'll get drunk as SHIT and end up humping a fire hydrant in the middle of  your mother-in-law's living room!
THAT SHIT WAS AWKWARD.
I think my hamster is dead!
Anyway! I'm gonna go pump some iron!
...
See you later!
Bitches!
EXPLOSION NOISE!