aspie ranting |
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If I seem a little distant or incoherent, it's because I am. I am not a NeuroTypical and I have no desire to become one. This is simply the area in which I stim my creative impulses. (WARNING: All entries are either ENTIRELY TRUE or ENTIRELY FALSE and anything claiming to be one of the latter is, in fact, one of the former. There are no exceptions to this rule.) comments, marriage proposals, and death threats can be sent here 
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Wednesday, May 25, 2005
gentle at first, then suffocating white wall's pock marked scars dashed like truth in memory retrospect and ill perspective wingless angels adorned scowling a caul of remorse, then gone then gone again... Monday, April 11, 2005
illusions coincide only through doubt an innocent mistress to truth twice cuckolded, once scorned though unabashed gently pleading mercy love's guileless scapegoat Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Thursday, February 03, 2005
tree branch expectant, the wings' silhouetted ailerons flex and extend, blooming with shadow sunlight, a bone-pallid carapace, chill & pearlescent; half night-stilled & dream-submerged Any water-songs left unextinguished will be your own wells to wish into. If the creeping reasons ever overtake me -- and I am growing more willing to grant them audience -- they will find your and your peers' objects' substance already behind my eyes, between my lips, offering what counsel they can. Tuesday, October 26, 2004
I am confronted, now, with defining genius. As any stance can be thus taken, no one is relevant. Or this whole thing is not entirely relevant. Genius is in understanding, defining, and changing the view of something you know nothing about by simply knowing what questions to ask. Genius is seeing the answer without even having yet learned a means by which to arrive at one. Lonely... so lonely. There are no twin souls in genius. Indeed. Genius lies in feeling probability waves enaharmonically... er... sardonically? Saturday, October 16, 2004
You're all the dream I need... I saved lives. A warzone happened its way into the area and I stopped everyone from getting hurt -- everyone but myself, that is. I cleared the train, the warehouse, and the train again, only to be taken captive by a set of eyes I have seen before. There were no words (what words express a warzone with an explosion of love...), no thoughts, only actions. In a world wrought with no language and only survival and love, I should have known it was all a dream. Wednesday, October 13, 2004
caught a train to Poughkeepsie and time stood still... treacle traced dreams lace the moonlight in her eyes she raises her breath to speak, but falls silent upon herself Monday, October 04, 2004
...the sad thing is, I think Crowley may be right... There really are no twin souls in genius. Well, maybe not sad... or at least not for me, anyway. I am quite accustomed to the fact that I am different (so different, in fact, that I have lost all desire to interact with others allegedly of my species). It's just sick that people are constantly praising my intelligence, but at every opportunity, they reject it. I don't wish to interact with such people in future. Yes, this makes things like having a job and going through daily life rather impossible, but I am prepared to suffer fools gladly... it's only been 22 years so far... why stop now?! Thursday, July 15, 2004
The trance state of prophecy is like no other visionary experience. It is not a retreat from the raw exposure of the senses (as many trance states) but an immersion in a multitude of new movements. Things move. It is an ultimate pragmatism in the midst of Infinity, a demanding consciousness where you come at last into the unbroken awareness that the universe moves of itself, that it changes, that it's rules change, that nothing remains permanent or absolute throughout all such movement, that mechanical explanations for anything can work only within precise confinements and, once the walls are broken down, the old explanations shatter and dissolve, blown away by new movements. The things you see in this trance are sobering, often shattering. They demand your utmost effort to remain whole, and even so, you emerge from that state profoundly changed. There exists no intransigent opposites except in the beliefs of men. Anyone can rip aside the veil of Time. You can discover the future in the past or in your own imagination. Doing this, you win back your consciousness in your inner being. You know then that the universe is a coherent whole and you are indivisible from it. Thursday, July 08, 2004
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
when to sleep perchance to dream means dreams full-fledged and foreign and lies expressed with contempt and the callous disregard of truth. Sweet Dreams, indeed. Wednesday, June 23, 2004
I carry a picture around to calm my nerves The picture of perfection a girl who used to be my reason to breathe who only chokes me up. I have to lose my wallet for any reprise. Friday, June 18, 2004
A very frightening experience when you discover for the first time you are in world full of people who have no reason to love or even like you and some even dislike you for reasons best known to themselves. They told me I would have friends... but how do you tell friend from foe? I am torn and twitching craving a stim of anything but who you are. Your face -- I remember the look on your face; I am still trying to decipher. The only thing I could think as you approached my car was "help me, please." I can't go on like this, craving your release denied the only one who helps. Tuesday, June 15, 2004
descent of Tanaerum. stained stench of guilt guards the entrance -- no taste of Cerberus. Soul of Dragon Rouge split path matched to forked tongues two heads become one, not unjoined -- no glimpse betwixt. antinomian parenthesis (that we were) a single voice. regurgitated lover bile-drenched memory of a whore not fit for Eleusis. Persephone's fall doomed to archtypal repetition. so Iambe's cries echo across even this distant time, and the scorpion's instinct is cruel subtlety. Friday, June 11, 2004
Steely stars and moon of brass, How mockingly you watch me pass! You know as well as I how soon I shall be blind to stars and moon, Deaf to the wind in the hemlock tree, Dumb when the brown earth weighs on me. With envious dark rage I bear, Stars, your cold complacent stare; Heart-broken in my hate look up, Moon, at your clear immortal cup, Changing to gold from dusky red -- Age after age when I am dead To be filled up with light, and then Emptied, to be refilled again. What has man done that only he Is slave to death -- so brutally Beaten back into the earth Impatient for him since his birth? Oh let me shut my eyes, close out The sight of stars and earth and be Sheltered a minute by this tree. Hemlock, through your fragrant boughs There moves no anger and no doubt, No envy of immortal things. The night-wind murmurs of the sea With veiled music ceaselessly, That to my shaken spirit sings. From their frail nest the robins rouse, In your pungent darkness stirred, Twittering a low drowsy word -- And me you shelter, even me. In your quietness you house The wind, the woman and the bird. You speak to me and I have heard: If I am peaceful, I shall see Beauty's face continually; Feeding on her wine and bread I shall be wholly comforted, For she can make one day for me Rich as my lost eternity. I thought of you when I was wakened By a wind that made me glad and afraid Of the rushing, pouring sound of the sea That the great trees made. One thought in my mind went over and over While the darkness shook and the leaves were thinned -- I thought it was you who had come to find me, You were the wind. Remember me as I was then; Turn from me now, but always see The laughing shadowy man who stood At midnight by the flowering tree, With eyes that love had made as bright As the trembling stars of the summer night. Turn from me now, but always hear The muted laughter in the dew Of that one year of youth we had, The only youth we ever knew -- Turn from me now, or you will see What other years have done to me. Did you never know, long ago, how much you loved me -- That your love would never lessen and never go? You were young then, proud and fresh-hearted, You were too young to know. Fate is a wind, and red leaves fly before it Far apart, far away in the gusty time of year -- Seldom we meet now, but when I hear you speaking, I know your secret, my dear, my dear. Saturday, June 05, 2004
if you feel love, you can buy love you can fall the long way to empty nights and empty flights of fancy in an ordinary way if you feel love I don't feel love anymore Monday, May 31, 2004
get up *pause* stay awake long enough to feel your joints ache your joints, now roaches soggy and expired and how tired is normal and how much is lethargy *pause* *fast forward* maybe if I walk around people will go away *think* they never go away everybody wants to help good intentions though are often lost in the shuffle search *searching* pretense aside ----------> I see it the cycle (the wheel), the endless regression progression recursion and all I can seem to think about (obsessively, it may appear at times) are 4-, 5-, and 6-dimensional fractal patterns "what the fuck is wrong with me?", but I know. (are the two related?) I know. Friday, May 21, 2004
Monday, May 17, 2004
summer waxes days grow longer but shadows linger enough to approximate night I feel the ground beneath my feet rising to match a pedestal 72 inches above my brow Monday, May 10, 2004
I feel very disconnected from this timeline's relative 0-point; I remember this all happening already. I don't know quite what is happening, but I remember things that are going to happen. I have no control over how many things I remember and when (as does anyone, really), but I can remember some upcoming events. I'm a little afraid that I may be delusional, but I will (as ALWAYS) suspend any belief annihilation until additional experiencial data becomes available in sufficient quantity to allow proper statistical evidence supporting an improvement in any (or all) of the belief systems. Sunday, May 09, 2004
losing sleep for lack of breath apathetic atrophy of appetite excessive rumination degenerates and I personally believe that knowledge is the reciprocal of power in a strictly geometric sense and no amount of planar postulates obfuscate the simple and elegant axiom schema of intelligence Thursday, May 06, 2004
Sunday, May 02, 2004
strangle my periphery gasp, stutter, fall apart cascade rushing out out anywhere but in pause never to reflect or risk becoming empty strangled by periphery Tuesday, April 27, 2004
bewildered bleary eyed confessions confessing more than I care to even know about quote love unquote I have cast aspersions (sounds close, doesn't it?) Monday, April 26, 2004
pnambic numbness juxtapoetically inclined and equally remiss self-deprecated to the point of pnambic numbness |
faeries have died because YOU haven't been clapping hard enough.