Question.
Why am I here?
What do I do?
Why do I do it?
Question.
How long will I live?
How should I spend my time?
Is this worth it?
Question.
What is the purpose?
Who cares?
Should I care?
Question.
What is real?
What is abstract?
Are they different?
Question.
...
Answer?
None.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
"Soundless"
Strike. The ground stained with dark liquid.
The blade was one with the shadows.
Strike. Gout. Stain. Alarms now silent.
The blade was the shadows.
Moving shadows.
Soundless.
Strike. Spray. Stain.
If shadows felt, stains would annoy, they leave trace, an evidence.
Shadows do not feel.
Glide. Glide. Pause.
Leap. Land.
Soundless.
Strike.
Spurt. Stain.
Spurt. Stain.
A gleam in the shadows. Look down. A blade stained in dark.
Remnants of the fallen.
An evidence.
Glide. Roll. Climb. Leap. Land.
Soundless.
Pause.
Ahead. Two eye sockets upon a throne. Judging. Leering.
Two extended shadows. Two blades flying.
Thunk Thunk.
Two eye sockets filled. Trickle.
From the light, a scream. A chorus.
Two eye sockets filled. Flow. No more judging.
Metal men.
Clanking.
Moving shadows.
Soundless.
Two eye sockets filled. Gush. No more leering.
Strike. Strike. Strike. Strike Strike Strike.
Metal men fall. Rain.
Two eye sockets filled. Cascade. No more judging. No more leering.
No more throne.
Sprint. Climb. Flip. Glide. Fly.
No more screams.
Soundless.
"I AM MURDER McBADASS. THIS IS HOW I WAS BORN. EXPLOSIONS!"
Dear BITCHES,
By now you know that this is Murder McBadass! Again! Deal with the beef-fed grain-fed manliness!
BEEF AND GRAIN PROVIDE VITAL NUTRIENTS FOR MANLY GROWTH!
Anyway! Here's the story of how I came into this GOD DAMN awesome world! (There's BOOBS!)
*Ahem*
It was a dark, stormy day. In the middle of the dead of winter. On mother F*CKING Jupiter! My father, Alan Rickman III, was totally making kissing sounds at my mom.
THAT MEANS THEY HAD INTERCOURSE!
When my pops-mc-gops, daddio, man-dude, BABY GRAVY DISPENSER, YOU PICK THE WORD! was done with his kissing sounds, he said the most badass thing ever in the history of ever.
IN SPACE.
"Lady friend," my pops totally said that! "From this gravy shall come a son. We will name him..."
And then! A lightning bolt tore through the air, struck a nearby martian aeroplane shark, and CAUGHT IT ON DAMN FIRE! Why was a martian aeroplane shark on Jupiter?? F*CK YOU THAT'S WHY!
"We shall name him..."
Gorillas started highfiving exploding explosions! Supernovas exploded and DOUBLE EXPLODED!
SUPERNOVADUBBASPLOSIONS!
My daddio looked at my mommy-pops. "We shall name him," he totally put on sunglasses here "Murder McBadass."
All the ladies in the entire everything showed their boobs. Even the not hot girls got hot boobs...and showed them to the unborn me.
BECAUSE I AM GOD DAMN SEXY.
Every lady showed their boobs, that is...except my mommy-pops. THAT WOULD BE FREUDIAN AND WEIRD. BUT SHE DOES HAVE A NICE RACK.
WHO SAID THAT?!
*Ahem*
Now that it is clear that my mom has nice boppabooies (F*CKING BOOBS!), let's get back to the story.
Nine months later I shot out of my mommy-pop's hoopiedoopie (LADY PENIS!) faster than a Sonic The Hedgehog, Roadrunner, and Hummingbird love-baby could fly-run!
THAT IS FASTER THAN AVERAGE!
Just kidding I was born after fifteen minutes! Maturing at an abnormally fast rate is manly! IN SPACE!
But anyway, after the Pirates beat the Cleveland Browns 150 to GOD DAMN NEGATIVE TEN!, I had matured into a legendragon adult.
That is how I was born. Deal with it or choose not to! I respect free will and the differing of opinions! And boobs!
WHALE PROTEIN!
Peace.
BITCHES.
By now you know that this is Murder McBadass! Again! Deal with the beef-fed grain-fed manliness!
BEEF AND GRAIN PROVIDE VITAL NUTRIENTS FOR MANLY GROWTH!
Anyway! Here's the story of how I came into this GOD DAMN awesome world! (There's BOOBS!)
*Ahem*
It was a dark, stormy day. In the middle of the dead of winter. On mother F*CKING Jupiter! My father, Alan Rickman III, was totally making kissing sounds at my mom.
THAT MEANS THEY HAD INTERCOURSE!
When my pops-mc-gops, daddio, man-dude, BABY GRAVY DISPENSER, YOU PICK THE WORD! was done with his kissing sounds, he said the most badass thing ever in the history of ever.
IN SPACE.
"Lady friend," my pops totally said that! "From this gravy shall come a son. We will name him..."
And then! A lightning bolt tore through the air, struck a nearby martian aeroplane shark, and CAUGHT IT ON DAMN FIRE! Why was a martian aeroplane shark on Jupiter?? F*CK YOU THAT'S WHY!
"We shall name him..."
Gorillas started highfiving exploding explosions! Supernovas exploded and DOUBLE EXPLODED!
SUPERNOVADUBBASPLOSIONS!
My daddio looked at my mommy-pops. "We shall name him," he totally put on sunglasses here "Murder McBadass."
All the ladies in the entire everything showed their boobs. Even the not hot girls got hot boobs...and showed them to the unborn me.
BECAUSE I AM GOD DAMN SEXY.
Every lady showed their boobs, that is...except my mommy-pops. THAT WOULD BE FREUDIAN AND WEIRD. BUT SHE DOES HAVE A NICE RACK.
WHO SAID THAT?!
*Ahem*
Now that it is clear that my mom has nice boppabooies (F*CKING BOOBS!), let's get back to the story.
Nine months later I shot out of my mommy-pop's hoopiedoopie (LADY PENIS!) faster than a Sonic The Hedgehog, Roadrunner, and Hummingbird love-baby could fly-run!
THAT IS FASTER THAN AVERAGE!
Just kidding I was born after fifteen minutes! Maturing at an abnormally fast rate is manly! IN SPACE!
But anyway, after the Pirates beat the Cleveland Browns 150 to GOD DAMN NEGATIVE TEN!, I had matured into a legendragon adult.
That is how I was born. Deal with it or choose not to! I respect free will and the differing of opinions! And boobs!
WHALE PROTEIN!
Peace.
BITCHES.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
"Maelstrom"
Every day I seek to find
Any meaning in the maelstrom of my mind
Understanding all
But knowing nothing
Gaining deeper knowledge
But learning little.
My brain is a trap.
Inside me is something I cannot explain
Something not right
Something as I sit and ponder keeps me up and night
I feel a separation of body and soul.
My body does not match who I am, or why I am
Even if I knew
I don't know what I'd do.
Must I live every day in fear
Wondering what lies so near
And why I am even here?
Some say it is a matter of science
Some of faith
But these answers are not answers; they are ways to feel safe.
There is something greater going on and most yet do not know it
But this is something I know, even if I can't show it.
So every day my brain yells and screams to tell
So every day I live in hell.
I know not what to do or say
As I do not know who or what I am
I only hope that some day I will learn
So I will no longer be concerned.
In this maelstrom of a mind I am trapped with no escape
This maelstrom of a mind seems to be my fate.
My body, mind, and soul are at odds
Not unlike warring gods
Sometimes the body, sometimes soul, sometimes mind, are the victors.
But in this conflict of entities, there are no true victories.
One will win, but all will lose.
This is no longer a matter of endurance or grit
Everything I do not know.
And I don't know what will become of it.
I am scared of my body, soul, and mind.
I am scared of what I will find.
I do not know who or what I am
or why I belong.
Until the long, long time on earth is done
I will never know; my answers? None.
I may appear to be fine and well
But every day I live in hell.
Any meaning in the maelstrom of my mind
Understanding all
But knowing nothing
Gaining deeper knowledge
But learning little.
My brain is a trap.
Inside me is something I cannot explain
Something not right
Something as I sit and ponder keeps me up and night
I feel a separation of body and soul.
My body does not match who I am, or why I am
Even if I knew
I don't know what I'd do.
Must I live every day in fear
Wondering what lies so near
And why I am even here?
Some say it is a matter of science
Some of faith
But these answers are not answers; they are ways to feel safe.
There is something greater going on and most yet do not know it
But this is something I know, even if I can't show it.
So every day my brain yells and screams to tell
So every day I live in hell.
I know not what to do or say
As I do not know who or what I am
I only hope that some day I will learn
So I will no longer be concerned.
In this maelstrom of a mind I am trapped with no escape
This maelstrom of a mind seems to be my fate.
My body, mind, and soul are at odds
Not unlike warring gods
Sometimes the body, sometimes soul, sometimes mind, are the victors.
But in this conflict of entities, there are no true victories.
One will win, but all will lose.
This is no longer a matter of endurance or grit
Everything I do not know.
And I don't know what will become of it.
I am scared of my body, soul, and mind.
I am scared of what I will find.
I do not know who or what I am
or why I belong.
Until the long, long time on earth is done
I will never know; my answers? None.
I may appear to be fine and well
But every day I live in hell.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
"I and the Wall"
I and the Wall
Neither will fall
I slam and charge and beat myself bloody
But the wall stands tall and says "Back off, buddy."
Neither will fall
I slam and charge and beat myself bloody
But the wall stands tall and says "Back off, buddy."
This wall must be made of steel and strife
But it's actually just a wall called life.
Through this wall I cannot pry
And even though I bleed and cry
I will not die.
It is I and the Wall
And Neither will fall.
And even though I bleed and cry
I will not die.
It is I and the Wall
And Neither will fall.
"MURDER McBADASS HERE. WITH RELATIONSHIP SH*T!"
Sup, BITCHES??!
Murder McBadass here!
Have you ever had lady or, for ladies, BOY LADY problems?!
Well Murder McBadass is here to fix that sh*t for you!
Why the unnecessary censorship when I didn't censor the word BITCH?
Because F**K YOU that's why!
...
READER MAIL!
"Dear Murder McBadass,
My boyfriend (EDIT, FAN LADY! THIS SHOULD SAY BOY LADY!) has been acting pretty distant lately. He says that he loves me, but there is some stuff he needs to work through on his own. I don't understand why he keeps pushing me, the closest person to him, away. I am at a loss for what to do. I can't bare to see him like this, but is there nothing I can do to help?
Thanks,
A fan"
Well, fan number one, it sounds like your boy lady is a total BITCH! You should try to convince him of his bitchness by smacking him across his overy-covered bitch face! And get him a fifty-ton gallon of whale protein, sold for 50cents at NOWHERE EVER! That boy lady should be getting his own whale protein! Next reader mail!
"Dear Murder McBadass,
My lady friend has been cheating on me, and I know it, but I can't seem to break up with her. I love her and don't understand why she would cheat on me. I have followed all of your relationship advice thus far; I just can't seem to come up with a reason for her cheating. Any advice?
Sincerely,
A fan"
...
WHAT?! That lady-friend lady is BIOLOGICALLY RETARDED! If you have been following all of my previous lady-friend or boy-lady advice thus far, she should literally be falling down on you! For kissing sounds! KISSING SOUNDS ARE MANLY! My advice is to act like you're on the toilet and take a dump! On that mean lady's head!
OR BREAK UP WITH HER. NEXT READER MAIL!
"Dear Murder McBadass,
Explosions!
Sincerely,
A fan"
...
...
BEST. READER. MAIL. EVER.
This person really gets what a relationship is! Nothing to fix here! This is grain-fed beef-fed goodness! May you get married and live forever in the cosmos of eternity and sh*t!
WHALE PROTEIN!
Alright boy ladies and lady ladies, that's it for this week's edition of...
...uhhh...
RELATIONSHIP SH*T!
PEACE, BITCHES!
Murder McBadass here!
Have you ever had lady or, for ladies, BOY LADY problems?!
Well Murder McBadass is here to fix that sh*t for you!
Why the unnecessary censorship when I didn't censor the word BITCH?
Because F**K YOU that's why!
...
READER MAIL!
"Dear Murder McBadass,
My boyfriend (EDIT, FAN LADY! THIS SHOULD SAY BOY LADY!) has been acting pretty distant lately. He says that he loves me, but there is some stuff he needs to work through on his own. I don't understand why he keeps pushing me, the closest person to him, away. I am at a loss for what to do. I can't bare to see him like this, but is there nothing I can do to help?
Thanks,
A fan"
Well, fan number one, it sounds like your boy lady is a total BITCH! You should try to convince him of his bitchness by smacking him across his overy-covered bitch face! And get him a fifty-ton gallon of whale protein, sold for 50cents at NOWHERE EVER! That boy lady should be getting his own whale protein! Next reader mail!
"Dear Murder McBadass,
My lady friend has been cheating on me, and I know it, but I can't seem to break up with her. I love her and don't understand why she would cheat on me. I have followed all of your relationship advice thus far; I just can't seem to come up with a reason for her cheating. Any advice?
Sincerely,
A fan"
...
WHAT?! That lady-friend lady is BIOLOGICALLY RETARDED! If you have been following all of my previous lady-friend or boy-lady advice thus far, she should literally be falling down on you! For kissing sounds! KISSING SOUNDS ARE MANLY! My advice is to act like you're on the toilet and take a dump! On that mean lady's head!
OR BREAK UP WITH HER. NEXT READER MAIL!
"Dear Murder McBadass,
Explosions!
Sincerely,
A fan"
...
...
BEST. READER. MAIL. EVER.
This person really gets what a relationship is! Nothing to fix here! This is grain-fed beef-fed goodness! May you get married and live forever in the cosmos of eternity and sh*t!
WHALE PROTEIN!
Alright boy ladies and lady ladies, that's it for this week's edition of...
...uhhh...
RELATIONSHIP SH*T!
PEACE, BITCHES!
"Slogging on"
Every day I trudge
My tired, aching body the judge
And I am the criminal on trial
My tired, aching body the judge
And I am the criminal on trial
To say I live in freedom is a denial.
I feel as if trapped in an iron clasp
That will never shake its horrible grasp
This fatigue, this disease
That will come and go as it please.
I feel as if trapped in an iron clasp
That will never shake its horrible grasp
This fatigue, this disease
That will come and go as it please.
I see others every day, filled with vim and verve
If they weren't so frayed and dead; that would strike a nerve.
To slog on unfeeling is my daily dread
Sometimes I wonder if I am already dead.
I am told I have purpose and have meaning
But is that really true, and if so, why from this truth am I not gleaning?
To slog on unfeeling is my daily dread
Sometimes I wonder if I am already dead.
I am told I have purpose and have meaning
But is that really true, and if so, why from this truth am I not gleaning?
Until I can find some meaning, some drive
It will be difficult to be alive.
But every day I must live and keep my head held high
Even if I feel dead inside
For I will never fall again.
I made a promise to those I love
And to the greater forces above.
It will be difficult to be alive.
But every day I must live and keep my head held high
Even if I feel dead inside
For I will never fall again.
I made a promise to those I love
And to the greater forces above.
To slog on is my daily dread.
But it is my reality.
It will never be my fatality.
But it is my reality.
It will never be my fatality.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)