I am sorry for the previous post. It was a freak of nature that should never have left the comfort of my mind.
I shall leave it, as a lesson to be learned.
~Ashm.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Absence.
I want to explain what seems like an absence in my mind.
I have things I want to post, but they are (extremely) personal. Shit that I can't share. Which annoys me, cos it's good writing, if I do say so myself.
My writing has been making me depressed. Depressive writing. Sad writing. Awww.
I need to take a break. Ignore everything. Relax. Forget.
I don't see that happening.
See? Now even this has turned into something deeper than it was meant to be. FFS.
To lighten the mood, imma post something I wrote in maths. A story explaining the retarded-ness of the sine wave.
Occasionally, people's faces are silly. When this happens, the faces can say two things.
Use logic to decide between the fake and gay, or truth.
When your logic is hungry, choose the bigger lie.
To do this, take the smaller lie away from 180 degrees.
This leaves you with a very big lie (angle).
Hungry, anyone?
In hindsight, that's just retarded.
To continue this mostrosity of a post (reminds me of something Allie Brosh wrote not so long ago, but less funny. I couldn't hope to compare with Hyperbole and a Half.):
I wrote a rage not so long ago. It never got published, because, as I said, too personal ("It's too real, Roy!"). I'd just like to say, even though you probably have no idea what the hell I'm going on about, that most of the issues in that rage have been resolved.
I found a confidant with seemingly godlike powers. Suprisingly.
Thank'ee, confidant.
I get the strange feeling I'm using 'confidant' wrongly here. Meh, even though a Google search is but a click away, this computer's too slow for that shit. So imma just point out that confidant here means someone to confide to. But that sounds too serious. Hence, confidant. Like, confidaaant. Stress on the a, not the i. Not confiiidant. Like, a confidee. Or confider. I realise those are two different things. It makes sense in my head.
This post is getting kinda long, and pointless.
I have no inspiration. Like writer's block, but worse, cos it's more like general-life-living-block.
Anyway, to stop this being a depressive thing, I hereby name this to be officially named super-anti-depressive-sad-no-more-happy-general-awesome-blog. Otherwise known as Hyperbole and a Half.
I like Hyperbole and a Half alot.
I have things I want to post, but they are (extremely) personal. Shit that I can't share. Which annoys me, cos it's good writing, if I do say so myself.
My writing has been making me depressed. Depressive writing. Sad writing. Awww.
I need to take a break. Ignore everything. Relax. Forget.
I don't see that happening.
See? Now even this has turned into something deeper than it was meant to be. FFS.
To lighten the mood, imma post something I wrote in maths. A story explaining the retarded-ness of the sine wave.
Occasionally, people's faces are silly. When this happens, the faces can say two things.
Use logic to decide between the fake and gay, or truth.
When your logic is hungry, choose the bigger lie.
To do this, take the smaller lie away from 180 degrees.
This leaves you with a very big lie (angle).
Hungry, anyone?
In hindsight, that's just retarded.
To continue this mostrosity of a post (reminds me of something Allie Brosh wrote not so long ago, but less funny. I couldn't hope to compare with Hyperbole and a Half.):
I wrote a rage not so long ago. It never got published, because, as I said, too personal ("It's too real, Roy!"). I'd just like to say, even though you probably have no idea what the hell I'm going on about, that most of the issues in that rage have been resolved.
I found a confidant with seemingly godlike powers. Suprisingly.
Thank'ee, confidant.
I get the strange feeling I'm using 'confidant' wrongly here. Meh, even though a Google search is but a click away, this computer's too slow for that shit. So imma just point out that confidant here means someone to confide to. But that sounds too serious. Hence, confidant. Like, confidaaant. Stress on the a, not the i. Not confiiidant. Like, a confidee. Or confider. I realise those are two different things. It makes sense in my head.
This post is getting kinda long, and pointless.
I have no inspiration. Like writer's block, but worse, cos it's more like general-life-living-block.
Anyway, to stop this being a depressive thing, I hereby name this to be officially named super-anti-depressive-sad-no-more-happy-general-awesome-blog. Otherwise known as Hyperbole and a Half.
I like Hyperbole and a Half alot.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Of Stubbornness
You stubborn creatures. His reluctance to let go is causing him more harm than letting go would. But, oh, the delight. There's nothing like the human skill of causing yourself intense pain to feed off.
This one is providing too much fun for suicide. He has so much more pain to cause, to himself and the ones he cares about.
So much sorrow unleashed.
But I won't have to wait much longer.
Ashm's about to break.
~Sialon
This one is providing too much fun for suicide. He has so much more pain to cause, to himself and the ones he cares about.
So much sorrow unleashed.
But I won't have to wait much longer.
Ashm's about to break.
~Sialon
Friday, April 16, 2010
In Memoriam
Alone.
Quiet in, no matter how it seems out.
Alone, and empty,
As I lay here,
Dying inside.
Confused.
Spinning round, with the straightest of faces.
Confused, and afraid,
While I sit and think,
Remembering.
In Memoriam,
For the part I have lost.
For the part that dies,
As you walk away,
In Memoriam,
For myself.
Sorrow.
Weeping inward, laughing out.
Sorrow, and pain.
As I watch,
The tears bleed out.
In Memoriam,
For who I was.
For who I lost,
As you turned away.
In Memoriam,
For the memory of you.
Fake smiles,
Fake laughter.
Alone, empty.
Confused, afraid.
Sorrow, pain.
Goodbye.
Quiet in, no matter how it seems out.
Alone, and empty,
As I lay here,
Dying inside.
Confused.
Spinning round, with the straightest of faces.
Confused, and afraid,
While I sit and think,
Remembering.
In Memoriam,
For the part I have lost.
For the part that dies,
As you walk away,
In Memoriam,
For myself.
Sorrow.
Weeping inward, laughing out.
Sorrow, and pain.
As I watch,
The tears bleed out.
In Memoriam,
For who I was.
For who I lost,
As you turned away.
In Memoriam,
For the memory of you.
Fake smiles,
Fake laughter.
Alone, empty.
Confused, afraid.
Sorrow, pain.
Goodbye.
On Christians and Exorcism.
Christians never cease to disgust me. If I use the term 'Christians' wrongly here, either complain/correct me, and I'll most probably ignore you, or get over it. Either way, get over it.
Anyway, back to the disgusting Christians. How do they manage to torture and kill people of their own faith without punishment? By blaming it on another religion, of course. I am, naturally, referring to exorcisms.
Here is what a Christian 'exorcism' seems to be to me:
- A believer is afflicted with a mental illness, is high, or both.
- People around them, and the believer themselves, jump to the conclusion of being possessed by a 'demon'. Of course, blame a rival religion. What have we ever done to them, except expose them for who they are?
- A priest is called in to perform the exorcism.
- The priest then proceeds to torture the 'possessed' with their own beliefs. The believer, being so believing, or mental, same thing really, often responds with spiritual, mental, and physical pain and hurt. I often wonder how much of this is subconscious acting, simply to fulfil the beliefs so deeply ingrained in their brainwashed/gullible minds.
- If the 'exorcism' is 'successful', the ex-possessed is now 'free of evil/Satan/demons/reason', and owes their life to their church. Their belief is now bolstered.
- Unsuccessful exorcisms end in murder.
How fucked up is that? Or is it just me? I wonder sometimes.
Now, go, read Dawkins. Think for yourselves.
Laugh at the silly Christians. Mock them!
Mock them, I tell you!
~Ashm
Anyway, back to the disgusting Christians. How do they manage to torture and kill people of their own faith without punishment? By blaming it on another religion, of course. I am, naturally, referring to exorcisms.
Here is what a Christian 'exorcism' seems to be to me:
- A believer is afflicted with a mental illness, is high, or both.
- People around them, and the believer themselves, jump to the conclusion of being possessed by a 'demon'. Of course, blame a rival religion. What have we ever done to them, except expose them for who they are?
- A priest is called in to perform the exorcism.
- The priest then proceeds to torture the 'possessed' with their own beliefs. The believer, being so believing, or mental, same thing really, often responds with spiritual, mental, and physical pain and hurt. I often wonder how much of this is subconscious acting, simply to fulfil the beliefs so deeply ingrained in their brainwashed/gullible minds.
- If the 'exorcism' is 'successful', the ex-possessed is now 'free of evil/Satan/demons/reason', and owes their life to their church. Their belief is now bolstered.
- Unsuccessful exorcisms end in murder.
How fucked up is that? Or is it just me? I wonder sometimes.
Now, go, read Dawkins. Think for yourselves.
Laugh at the silly Christians. Mock them!
Mock them, I tell you!
~Ashm
The Beginning - The Emptiness Of I part 2
In every town, there is a place which is always totally abandoned. Usually, it's a derelict house. The one in my town is right beside the school. It's a popular place for waggers, but no one goes inside. I don't know if anything bad happened there, of if it's empty just because, but it is always empty.
There are times when my fascination with fear and paranoia go too far. This was one of them. I should have learnt by now not to mess with things like this, but I couldn't help myself. So, on one stereotypically moonlit night, I broke in. The back window, the one facing away from the road was my entry point. The floor was covered in plaster dust, but otherwise the house seemed fine. Just unused. Unused and empty.
I climbed in the window, and walked across the room to open the door. The door opened cleanly into what seemed to be the hallway. The walls were bare and the wooden floor was again covered in a fine layer of plaster dust. My footfalls sent up little clouds of white powder as I walked. I treaded down the hallway, around the corner, and up a flight of stairs. I was getting kind of self-conscious about the footprints I was leaving behind, but I'd always wanted to come here. I would look around, then leave. No harm done.
Reaching the top of the stairs, I looked about. There was a landing, with two doors on either side. Heading left, I tried to open the door. Strangely, it was locked. Perhaps not locked, but it wouldn't budge, and the doorknob wouldn't turn. Locked, or jammed. Either way, I gave up on trying to open it, and tried the door at the other end of the landing. This one opened fine, and led to a large room with a huge window looking out to the school. I stood by the window, looking out, when I heard a rustle back by the stairs. Curious, I went back to check what it was. I couldn't figure out what had made the noise, so I decided to check the other room again.
I froze. There, on the floor, in the dust, was another set of footprints. Not mine, another set. They came from the room, and went down the stairs. Following them, I descended. They turned a corner at the bottom, and disappeared. Just stopped. Paranoid, I headed back up the stairs to the locked room. Trying the doorknob again, this time it yielded.
Suprised, I pushed open the door, and cautiously walked into the room. An old, neglected mattress was lying on the floor. From what I could tell, it was stained with blood.
Freaked out, it was then that I decided to leave. Quickly. Spinning around, I took a step forward, and froze once more.
For there She was. The being that would forever torture me. She looked so menacing, and yet so innocent. Short, young, but with an expression on Her face that wasn't human. Blood was dripping from Her fingers, from the ends of Her terrible, long nails. She looked up.
Her eyes are the most haunting things I have ever seen. I will never be able to get that image out of my head. Her piercing glare, threatening, pure evil.
That was how I discovered Her. Or perhaps, She discovered me. Ever since, She has stayed with me. A horrifying, torturing presence.
The pain I have suffered at Her hands. . . immeasurable.
The sorrow She has caused. . . unbearable.
Her very presence is intolerable.
The sight of Her causes pain in the anticipation of itself.
She will never leave.
There are times when my fascination with fear and paranoia go too far. This was one of them. I should have learnt by now not to mess with things like this, but I couldn't help myself. So, on one stereotypically moonlit night, I broke in. The back window, the one facing away from the road was my entry point. The floor was covered in plaster dust, but otherwise the house seemed fine. Just unused. Unused and empty.
I climbed in the window, and walked across the room to open the door. The door opened cleanly into what seemed to be the hallway. The walls were bare and the wooden floor was again covered in a fine layer of plaster dust. My footfalls sent up little clouds of white powder as I walked. I treaded down the hallway, around the corner, and up a flight of stairs. I was getting kind of self-conscious about the footprints I was leaving behind, but I'd always wanted to come here. I would look around, then leave. No harm done.
Reaching the top of the stairs, I looked about. There was a landing, with two doors on either side. Heading left, I tried to open the door. Strangely, it was locked. Perhaps not locked, but it wouldn't budge, and the doorknob wouldn't turn. Locked, or jammed. Either way, I gave up on trying to open it, and tried the door at the other end of the landing. This one opened fine, and led to a large room with a huge window looking out to the school. I stood by the window, looking out, when I heard a rustle back by the stairs. Curious, I went back to check what it was. I couldn't figure out what had made the noise, so I decided to check the other room again.
I froze. There, on the floor, in the dust, was another set of footprints. Not mine, another set. They came from the room, and went down the stairs. Following them, I descended. They turned a corner at the bottom, and disappeared. Just stopped. Paranoid, I headed back up the stairs to the locked room. Trying the doorknob again, this time it yielded.
Suprised, I pushed open the door, and cautiously walked into the room. An old, neglected mattress was lying on the floor. From what I could tell, it was stained with blood.
Freaked out, it was then that I decided to leave. Quickly. Spinning around, I took a step forward, and froze once more.
For there She was. The being that would forever torture me. She looked so menacing, and yet so innocent. Short, young, but with an expression on Her face that wasn't human. Blood was dripping from Her fingers, from the ends of Her terrible, long nails. She looked up.
Her eyes are the most haunting things I have ever seen. I will never be able to get that image out of my head. Her piercing glare, threatening, pure evil.
That was how I discovered Her. Or perhaps, She discovered me. Ever since, She has stayed with me. A horrifying, torturing presence.
The pain I have suffered at Her hands. . . immeasurable.
The sorrow She has caused. . . unbearable.
Her very presence is intolerable.
The sight of Her causes pain in the anticipation of itself.
She will never leave.
Of Volcanic Eruptions and Distractions
Oh, how I love causing confusion, panic, and fear. As I have surely mentioned before, human emotions are so enjoyable.
Another puppet of mine urgently 'needed' to fly across Europe. A matter of 'love'. These always provide the most fun. This poor fool had one chance to 'get the girl'. So, I decided to feast.
Nature responded to my calls. A number of volcanoes billowed smoke and ash around Europe. The silly bastard is well and truly stuck. He even tried to find another way to her. Determined.
Nevertheless, he failed. As a result, he is now sitting depressed in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, contemplating suicide.
How delightful.
~Sialon.
Another puppet of mine urgently 'needed' to fly across Europe. A matter of 'love'. These always provide the most fun. This poor fool had one chance to 'get the girl'. So, I decided to feast.
Nature responded to my calls. A number of volcanoes billowed smoke and ash around Europe. The silly bastard is well and truly stuck. He even tried to find another way to her. Determined.
Nevertheless, he failed. As a result, he is now sitting depressed in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, contemplating suicide.
How delightful.
~Sialon.
Monday, April 12, 2010
I'm proud to see that Google has finally integrated this into their search. No more having to send people URL's. Yaaay.
Anyway, I'm gonna be away for a while. So, you probably won't hear from me. Check the other blog for more details.
If I get internet access, I'll prolly tweet something. God, I hate that word.
Look for 24Ashm on twitter.
Be back soon
~Ashm
Anyway, I'm gonna be away for a while. So, you probably won't hear from me. Check the other blog for more details.
If I get internet access, I'll prolly tweet something. God, I hate that word.
Look for 24Ashm on twitter.
Be back soon
~Ashm
Thursday, April 1, 2010
01010011 01101000 01100001 01101101 01100101
01011001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01101010 01110101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110011 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100111 01100001 01101101 01100101 00101110 00001101 00001010 01000001 01110000 01110010 01101001 01101100 00100000 01000110 01101111 01101111 01101100 01110011 00100001
Plam.
He walked into the school, determined. He would complete the Plan. His Plan. The Plan he'd been planning for months.
The grounds were empty. Entirely empty. There was no one there. Just as he planned.
Getting changed, he kept an eye out for people. His Plan would not be ruined. It had to be done today.
Grabbing the glove out of his bag, and the spherical, soft, ball, from the inside pocket, he wandered out into the middle of the field.
Throwing the ball up into the air, he yelled "APRIL FOOLS!" and caught it.
His Plan had succeeded.
~ April Fools, eh?
Ashm.
The grounds were empty. Entirely empty. There was no one there. Just as he planned.
Getting changed, he kept an eye out for people. His Plan would not be ruined. It had to be done today.
Grabbing the glove out of his bag, and the spherical, soft, ball, from the inside pocket, he wandered out into the middle of the field.
Throwing the ball up into the air, he yelled "APRIL FOOLS!" and caught it.
His Plan had succeeded.
~ April Fools, eh?
Ashm.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Regret
I should have learned by now not to mess with powers above mine. Especially Sialon.
I regret to inform you that in my last post, "Of Strength", I impersonated Sialon in an attempt to make myself feel better and to explain myself to readers.
I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have done that.
Sialon is not impressed.
His protection has lessened.
I may have ruined my chances of joining him.
He is angry.
As soon as I was alone, his torture increased dramatically.
Tonight is not going to be a good night.
I am sorry, to all of you.
Readers,
Sialon,
And a few specific others.
I am sorry.
Regretfully,
Ashm.
I regret to inform you that in my last post, "Of Strength", I impersonated Sialon in an attempt to make myself feel better and to explain myself to readers.
I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have done that.
Sialon is not impressed.
His protection has lessened.
I may have ruined my chances of joining him.
He is angry.
As soon as I was alone, his torture increased dramatically.
Tonight is not going to be a good night.
I am sorry, to all of you.
Readers,
Sialon,
And a few specific others.
I am sorry.
Regretfully,
Ashm.
Of Strength
This one is strong. He is 'better' already. He certainly looks fine. All signs of sorrow are gone. He's not happy, but he is no longer depressed. Gone is the pain, confusion, fear, and sorrow.
He is strong.
~Sialon
He is strong.
~Sialon
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Free
Some of you have noticed me talking 'different'. This isn't different. This isn't unusual. This is who I am. Most of you know me as who I am at school.
This is what I'm like when I'm free. Nothing holding me back. No drugs keeping me down.
As an example, a transcript of a MSN convo I had today.
Ashm
if you could find out the date of your death, would you want to know?
*person*
I wouldn't want to know the date
Ashm
yeah, neither
*person*
I'd want to know how I died
Ashm
really?
Ashm
I'd prefer not knowing anything about it
*person*
nah, is'd be great
Ashm
otherwise you'd be so paranoid for the rest of your life
*person*
you'd be imortal up until then
*person*
nuh uh!
Ashm
no you wouldn't
*person*
I'd go the other way with it
Ashm
what, if you knew you were going to be killed by falling from a building, you go to more tall buildings?
*person*
I wouldn't be paranoid
*person*
lol
Ashm
I would
Ashm
it'd be crazy
*person*
actually, I wouldn't mind knowing the date either
Ashm
really?
Ashm
my reasoning was, I don't know it now, and life is fine the way it is, knowing it wouldn't make much of a good difference
*person*
I could totally be like 'I aint gonna die today'
Ashm
i'd prolly go crazy, doing all the stuff I wanted to do
Ashm
but it wouldn't be as good
Ashm
cos i'd start panicking
Ashm
I mean, I'm not afraid of it, but knowing when it is, would suck
Ashm
especially if you found out, and it was soon
*person*
Is this Ashm talking?
Ashm
yeah
*person*
or nay
Ashm
why?
*person*
really?
Ashm
yeah
*person*
You're talking different
*person*
lol
Ashm
lol, i dunno
Ashm
i found this on the pit
Ashm
and it got me thinking
*person*
I see
name left out 'cos I can
This is what I'm actually like. This is who pretty much none of you know. This is me free, as myself.
There are things I don't want to be free of. Some people I don't want to be free of.
Sometimes, you need someone to hold you back.
This is what I'm like when I'm free. Nothing holding me back. No drugs keeping me down.
As an example, a transcript of a MSN convo I had today.
Ashm
if you could find out the date of your death, would you want to know?
*person*
I wouldn't want to know the date
Ashm
yeah, neither
*person*
I'd want to know how I died
Ashm
really?
Ashm
I'd prefer not knowing anything about it
*person*
nah, is'd be great
Ashm
otherwise you'd be so paranoid for the rest of your life
*person*
you'd be imortal up until then
*person*
nuh uh!
Ashm
no you wouldn't
*person*
I'd go the other way with it
Ashm
what, if you knew you were going to be killed by falling from a building, you go to more tall buildings?
*person*
I wouldn't be paranoid
*person*
lol
Ashm
I would
Ashm
it'd be crazy
*person*
actually, I wouldn't mind knowing the date either
Ashm
really?
Ashm
my reasoning was, I don't know it now, and life is fine the way it is, knowing it wouldn't make much of a good difference
*person*
I could totally be like 'I aint gonna die today'
Ashm
i'd prolly go crazy, doing all the stuff I wanted to do
Ashm
but it wouldn't be as good
Ashm
cos i'd start panicking
Ashm
I mean, I'm not afraid of it, but knowing when it is, would suck
Ashm
especially if you found out, and it was soon
*person*
Is this Ashm talking?
Ashm
yeah
*person*
or nay
Ashm
why?
*person*
really?
Ashm
yeah
*person*
You're talking different
*person*
lol
Ashm
lol, i dunno
Ashm
i found this on the pit
Ashm
and it got me thinking
*person*
I see
name left out 'cos I can
This is what I'm actually like. This is who pretty much none of you know. This is me free, as myself.
There are things I don't want to be free of. Some people I don't want to be free of.
Sometimes, you need someone to hold you back.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Of Sorrow and Confusion.
Ah, the sorrow. The sorrow, pain, confusion, and fear. The things my puppets go through. Humans certainly are interesting.
He tells me he's not depressed, that he'll be fine. But, I can see the pain in his eyes. The suit he wears seems to fool everyone around him, but he can't fool me. He is mine, it's my business to know what he's feeling.
You humans, with your pitiful emotions. You are the only beings I know that have such conflicting feelings. Love, a concept that brings both happiness and sadness. Healing and hurt. 'Ups and downs,' as you would say.
Only humans have such mixed feelings. For example, this particular human is, right now, sad, confused, in pain, angry, and scared. It's truly amazing.
And it provides good entertainment.
Oh, he wants me to say that this isn't real, and not to read too much into to, especially certain people. Fool, saying 'certain people' won't work. Everyone is going to know who he's talking about.
There, I said it. He is under my protection. I have to give something in return for his pitiful life.
Believe what you will.
I enjoy watching your pain.
This should be interesting.
~ Sialon
He tells me he's not depressed, that he'll be fine. But, I can see the pain in his eyes. The suit he wears seems to fool everyone around him, but he can't fool me. He is mine, it's my business to know what he's feeling.
You humans, with your pitiful emotions. You are the only beings I know that have such conflicting feelings. Love, a concept that brings both happiness and sadness. Healing and hurt. 'Ups and downs,' as you would say.
Only humans have such mixed feelings. For example, this particular human is, right now, sad, confused, in pain, angry, and scared. It's truly amazing.
And it provides good entertainment.
Oh, he wants me to say that this isn't real, and not to read too much into to, especially certain people. Fool, saying 'certain people' won't work. Everyone is going to know who he's talking about.
There, I said it. He is under my protection. I have to give something in return for his pitiful life.
Believe what you will.
I enjoy watching your pain.
This should be interesting.
~ Sialon
Of Essence and Comradeship.
It seems this one does not need to be broken.
He has already begun.
He is on the way to joining me.
He wrote this in his journal, not intending it to be published. But, I think the outcome could be entertaining.
With each slice, I forget.
With each cut, I get further away.
Each drip of blood that escapes, he takes.
Each drip of essence that I lose, he gains.
Slice, cut.
Drip, drip.
Closer to full immersion, closer to full removal.
The removal of myself from this plane.
I go.
I go to join my tormentor.
Only with Sialon shall I be free.
He will become like me.
He already shows characteristics unseen in normal humans.
This one is strong.
This one in determined.
I must be careful.
Keep him under my control.
Or he will ruin all my fun.
He can't kill all of you.
~ Sialon
He has already begun.
He is on the way to joining me.
He wrote this in his journal, not intending it to be published. But, I think the outcome could be entertaining.
With each slice, I forget.
With each cut, I get further away.
Each drip of blood that escapes, he takes.
Each drip of essence that I lose, he gains.
Slice, cut.
Drip, drip.
Closer to full immersion, closer to full removal.
The removal of myself from this plane.
I go.
I go to join my tormentor.
Only with Sialon shall I be free.
He will become like me.
He already shows characteristics unseen in normal humans.
This one is strong.
This one in determined.
I must be careful.
Keep him under my control.
Or he will ruin all my fun.
He can't kill all of you.
~ Sialon
Thursday, March 18, 2010
On Beauty.
So, I've been thinking. And philophosizing. Here goes.
Beauty is not skin-deep. Nor is it in the eye of the beholder, if you take 'beholder' to mean 'one who holds.'
Beauty is a concept that differs from person to person. To one person, someone may seem plain, uninteresting. And to another, that person may be the most beautiful person they ever knew. That goes for personality as well. Beauty is more than just looks. To me, beauty is a combination of how a person looks and how a person acts, or holds him/herself. Someone who I could think looks good, and yet is the most shallow, or even over-deep, person, is not beautiful in my eyes.
However, it doesn't work that way in reverse. 'Good looks' are not a necessary part of beauty. To me, the way a person is. . . mentally, for want of a better word, takes priority over physical 'beauty.'
So, in truth, beauty to me is more mental, more personal, whatever you want to call it.
The main point of this rant is this. Recently, someone said to me "My girlfriend is hotter than yours." Quite frankly, that pissed me off. It's such a shallow, superficial thing to say. And yet, I didn't argue that point. Instead, I replied "Not to me." Which I realise now sums up my views on beauty pretty damn well. I haven't even seen this person's girlfriend, but I'm sure that to me, I won't consider her as beautiful as mine. Which also sounds shallow, but there's no easy way to put that into words. I do think it's the truth.
Now, this is going to be hard to put into words without it sounding over the top, but I'm going to try. Just a casual warning. I consider, in all honesty, my girlfriend to be the most beautiful person I know. And I want to add "and the most beautiful I don't." But, if I'm being honest, that's not entirely true. I have no way of knowing that I won't meet someone who I may end up considering more beautiful. But, at this moment in time, I consider her the most beautiful, because of who she is. That's the simplest way to put it, and it makes sense to me.
Anyway, thus ends a seemingly pointless rant. Ah well, it was helpful to me, even though it was hard to write, and harder to publish.
Just, don't read into this stuff too much.
Keep happy,
Ashm.
Beauty is not skin-deep. Nor is it in the eye of the beholder, if you take 'beholder' to mean 'one who holds.'
Beauty is a concept that differs from person to person. To one person, someone may seem plain, uninteresting. And to another, that person may be the most beautiful person they ever knew. That goes for personality as well. Beauty is more than just looks. To me, beauty is a combination of how a person looks and how a person acts, or holds him/herself. Someone who I could think looks good, and yet is the most shallow, or even over-deep, person, is not beautiful in my eyes.
However, it doesn't work that way in reverse. 'Good looks' are not a necessary part of beauty. To me, the way a person is. . . mentally, for want of a better word, takes priority over physical 'beauty.'
So, in truth, beauty to me is more mental, more personal, whatever you want to call it.
The main point of this rant is this. Recently, someone said to me "My girlfriend is hotter than yours." Quite frankly, that pissed me off. It's such a shallow, superficial thing to say. And yet, I didn't argue that point. Instead, I replied "Not to me." Which I realise now sums up my views on beauty pretty damn well. I haven't even seen this person's girlfriend, but I'm sure that to me, I won't consider her as beautiful as mine. Which also sounds shallow, but there's no easy way to put that into words. I do think it's the truth.
Now, this is going to be hard to put into words without it sounding over the top, but I'm going to try. Just a casual warning. I consider, in all honesty, my girlfriend to be the most beautiful person I know. And I want to add "and the most beautiful I don't." But, if I'm being honest, that's not entirely true. I have no way of knowing that I won't meet someone who I may end up considering more beautiful. But, at this moment in time, I consider her the most beautiful, because of who she is. That's the simplest way to put it, and it makes sense to me.
Anyway, thus ends a seemingly pointless rant. Ah well, it was helpful to me, even though it was hard to write, and harder to publish.
Just, don't read into this stuff too much.
Keep happy,
Ashm.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Memorial
He walked into the silent, empty hall. A feeling of peace washed over him, along with something else. An underlying sense of sorrow, fear, mourning. This place was full of emotion, and yet empty at the same time. The perfect place for him. He could feel the cries of long-lost souls begging for help, for remembrance. He reached out, let himself be enveloped by the spirits of the dead.
They welcomed him. He become one with the dead, felt their pain, their anguish at being taken so early. He reached out more, inviting them into his body. They responded, curious and suprised at the one person who heard after all these years.
He listened.
He understood.
He mourned with them.
He opened his soul entirely.
He breathed them in, taking strength from the energies around him.
He drew in their sorrow, their fear, their pain. Took it inside him, and kept it with him as he walked away.
He left them behind, and there they remain.
But he has not forgotten.
I have not forgotten.
I will remember them.
Lest I forget.
They welcomed him. He become one with the dead, felt their pain, their anguish at being taken so early. He reached out more, inviting them into his body. They responded, curious and suprised at the one person who heard after all these years.
He listened.
He understood.
He mourned with them.
He opened his soul entirely.
He breathed them in, taking strength from the energies around him.
He drew in their sorrow, their fear, their pain. Took it inside him, and kept it with him as he walked away.
He left them behind, and there they remain.
But he has not forgotten.
I have not forgotten.
I will remember them.
Lest I forget.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Of Existence And Subservience
For the few of you pitiful humans who are curious, I am not a creation of any of you arrogant maggots. I am, however, imagined by you. That does not make me any less real. I exist, both physically and imagined. I am endless. I manifest myself both physically and in your imaginations.
To those of you who are somewhat learned, I am closest in kin to the beings you call demons. The 'true Gods' as those of you who are closest to the truth call them. But, while these demons, especially the demons known as Goetic, tend to help humanity, in particular the learned Satanists, I find pleasure in the torment and destruction of your pitiful, disgusting race.
I am what your Christians based their demons on.
I am in control of the worthless human writing this. He is one of my chosen. He suffers unimaginable torment. In return, he has my protection. He has my promise of reincarnation. He has the potential to join me. I give him the gift of mental illness, and he uses it to write. The products of his twisted, tormented mind are not all published. The ones you have read are but the tip of the iceberg, as you insects are so fond of saying.
These stories give him release.
He is mine.
For I am the bane of your existence.
I am sorrow.
I am torment.
I am endless.
I am Sialon.
To those of you who are somewhat learned, I am closest in kin to the beings you call demons. The 'true Gods' as those of you who are closest to the truth call them. But, while these demons, especially the demons known as Goetic, tend to help humanity, in particular the learned Satanists, I find pleasure in the torment and destruction of your pitiful, disgusting race.
I am what your Christians based their demons on.
I am in control of the worthless human writing this. He is one of my chosen. He suffers unimaginable torment. In return, he has my protection. He has my promise of reincarnation. He has the potential to join me. I give him the gift of mental illness, and he uses it to write. The products of his twisted, tormented mind are not all published. The ones you have read are but the tip of the iceberg, as you insects are so fond of saying.
These stories give him release.
He is mine.
For I am the bane of your existence.
I am sorrow.
I am torment.
I am endless.
I am Sialon.
REWRITE!!!
You may want to turn around. Concentrating solely on a computer screen isn't very safe. It leaves no attention free for your own protection. It makes it too easy for anyone, anything, to sneak up on you. Too easy for something to grab your head, twist it, crack it, hear the satisfying crunch of your spine breaking. Too easy to maim you, to drag you out of that chair and fling you across the room, to feel the juices and blood on my hands as I gouge out you eyes, to ram my nails in between your muscles, to pull out your tendons. Too easy to rip off your skin, to pull out your hair, your teeth, your nails. Too easy to break every bone in your body, slowly, painfully. Too easy to rip your arms and legs from your body, to slice open your stomach and pull out your guts. Too easy to rip your ribcage apart, to pull out your heart and lungs in front of your very eyes. Too easy to make your very soul scream in pain and fear.
So, please. Stay aware. Pay a little attention. Look around every once in a while.
For me.
So, please. Stay aware. Pay a little attention. Look around every once in a while.
For me.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Of War and Torment
Throughout all the millenia, I have seen many truly wonderful things. Your race has flourished. You live, love, and die. But nothing is truly more amazing than your concepts of war and hate. There is nothing more satisfying than seeing one of my plans come to fruition. After decades of preparation, scheming, plotting, after all the treaties, pacts, and promises, when war is declared, it all comes together.
Countries and men become 'allies' and 'friends' and turn their backs on one another, breaking their pacts and promises, letting their so-called 'allies' squander in pain, misery, and defeat. The few years of peace created by politicians and 'visionaries' is only preparation for the next era of suffering.
Whilst taking a break from tormenting my favorite humans, while they are in the reincarnation process or are too young to terrify satisfyingly, I get to work in creating world-wide sorrow.
My current human is getting weak.
It won't be long now.
I look forward to your misery
~ Sialon
Countries and men become 'allies' and 'friends' and turn their backs on one another, breaking their pacts and promises, letting their so-called 'allies' squander in pain, misery, and defeat. The few years of peace created by politicians and 'visionaries' is only preparation for the next era of suffering.
Whilst taking a break from tormenting my favorite humans, while they are in the reincarnation process or are too young to terrify satisfyingly, I get to work in creating world-wide sorrow.
My current human is getting weak.
It won't be long now.
I look forward to your misery
~ Sialon
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