Prose

Quite an Odd Feeling

Posted on May 1, 2016. Filed under: a look in my book, Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , |

Quite an odd feeling,
something being gone when you expect it to be there.
Sometimes it takes the absence of something you take for granted to make you see
An obvious sentiment however one that bears repeating.

Little bits of my mind are lost, things I thought I needed.
Lost, I can call it such because I actually miss what is gone.
Lost implies you can possibly recover something, just a matter of will.
Regardless of the terminology, the bottom line is, I am no longer whole.

How easy it is to shut down, to not see.
The ability to bend reality in your own mind is a beautiful thing but transient.
Reality is persistent.
Eventually it will creep back in, steal into your thoughts, ruin any construction
you choose to hide behind.
No matter how grand or how simple you decide to make your perception of a situation,
the reality of it will get you eventually.

If time is a luxury then I am more poor than I imagined.
Each tick of the clock brings me that much closer to actually seeing.
The things I cannot acknowledge will not be ignored.
Where do you hide when your mind betrays you,
when you can no longer blind yourself?

I spend my time unwisely.
In these moments I have been given what have I accomplished?
Each breath I draw is a lost moment, one where no dream was achieved,
no progress made, nothing beneficial.
Just a simple exchange of oxygen for carbon dioxide.
The world will spin with or without any of us.

Where do you look to find a point?
Do you listen to the word of another?
Ultimately we answer to no one but ourselves.

Why must I mentally drag myself to even the most mundane of actions?
There is something there, something driving me, an answer, I know there is.
I have to make a choice.
A large part of me looks at all of this life’s possibilities and feels the
urge to jump to action.

What is unfortunate is even the smallest doubt can outweigh the best of intentions.
This burden, knowing the magnitude of what I have lost, weighs more than
I know how to bear.
I am at the mercy of my own insecurity, my own inaction.

There is an answer, there is an explanation.
It is part of what is lost and I cling to the possibility of finding it.
I now sit as I have so many times, fooling myself into believing I will
recover that missing magic bit of information.
I think it is this delusion alone that powers my ability to move at all.

I am here, I will be here, I will keep looking.
I promise not to stray too far if you promise not to point out
that I move in circles.

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Exhalation

Posted on July 28, 2013. Filed under: a look in my book, Change of Pace, justice, Mental Hurling, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

Thoughtlessly unappreciated and seemingly tossed randomly about by fate
Numbed to the chaos a gift can emerge from acceptance of the unthinkable
Survive and one becomes tempered
Like the finest steel however forged in misfortune and misunderstanding
Each violation, real or perceived, a misfortunate but well placed strike of the hammer
Shaping a future
Pain and torment, possible confusion, solitude and feelings of helplessness
To state time heals all wounds is a blanket lie, it takes work and insight.
Seeking wisdom or intellectual gain from loathsome events…
Is not pretty nor is it easily acquired
Patience and examination of the minutia of each nightmare endured
With sadistic resolution to admit and own every flaw,
Acceptance and forgiveness of actions or inaction
In order to reach a higher understanding
An often bittersweet realization due to the process is amazing
One can discover that in each experience
Whether it brings marvel or misery
There is something of great worth
A priceless commodity to be gained.
Some of the most tragic and agonizing events
Upon deep reflection often yield the most amazing epiphanies
New-found strength, Previously unimagined adaptability
The forgiveness of others as well as ones self, Incredible personal growth
Unexpected insight into ones own psyche
The unbridled joy of turning pain into a positive gift
The myriad of benefits in the wake of any torturous event
Are restricted only by ones fear of reliving the mental pain.
Sifting through each atrocity to find any grain of knowledge
Aiding any tiny spark that may, and generally will, help come to terms.
Promoting the reduction of future instances where any similar nightmares
Might vie to hold power over your thoughts or preset fears that might dictate negative actions
Seek and discover the positive then learn to let the negative go
It can be the beginning of a path to eventual bliss
Upon successful endurance of a catastrophic event
If and when one chooses to commit to find the good when mired in misery
 
Consider this a challenge, dare, a plea from a voice of experience
Look for the positive, it is there. It may be deeply buried
The quest at times will almost surely create degrees of duress but know this:
There is no greater reward (though painful) than to fight and survive,
Eventually come to terms with an unthinkable ordeal
Then find joy or peace, acceptance through sincere reflection in it’s wake.

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Magic word contest -CANCELLED

Posted on February 23, 2013. Filed under: Announcements, Contests, Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Musings, Prose, why the hell not | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

Ask anyone to say the magic word
invariably they will say “please.”
That is a fallacy, a lie, it holds no power.
I know true magic.
A single word – when spoken properly –
can devistate.
This word can end lives.
Destroy families.
Cause the mightiest of men to question their own worth.
This damning word is tricky,
it is generally benign in nature.
We use it every day.
The evil magic it holds is manifested by the speaker.
It’s duality only exsists due to the capacity
for cruelty in men’s hearts… or women’s.
Both are as likely to curse another
with this life altering utterance.
Once viciously used, once Pandora’s box is opened,
it’s never truly the same afterward,
it’s never quite shut again.
Try as you wish, no ammends are complete.
The word leaves it’s mark on the receiver.
I dare not divulge the secret
I will say this:
Speak not in anger and do not be rash.
Words can be powerful.
Burning bridges can consume in a literal sense…

I REGRET TO ANNOUNCE THE CONTEST HAS BEEN COMPROMISED AND THEREFORE IS OFFICIALLY CANCELLED.

I APOLOGIZE FOR THE SUDDEN DECISION HOWEVER IT IS DUE TO CIRCUMSTANCES BEYOND MY CONTROL.

JUST FOR FUN… IF YOU WOULD STILL LIKE TO VENTURE A GUESS YOU MAY ATTEMPT CALLING THE EGGLINE AT 908-FOR-EGGS.

THANK YOU

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View the spew

Posted on January 11, 2013. Filed under: a look in my book, goofy crap, Mental Hurling, Prose, why the hell not | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

image

Steal what you will
I refuse it
I can not be me and
You can not
Have me
My pieces
Have never fit
You prove
Nothing
With
Gossamer
Threads
I will

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tribute

Posted on January 9, 2013. Filed under: Announcements, justice, Miscellaneous, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

I’ve decided not to publish the post as promised to KTRE Lufkin/Tyler for personal reasons. I apologize to anyone who may have been expecting to see it however at this point in time I feel it was a mistake to make the sentiment public.

Thank you and my apologies.

Stacy

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Needy

Posted on November 28, 2012. Filed under: Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Musings, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , |

An ancient tool, little else
passed from hand to hand.
Its origin is unknown
- workings quite the mystery
Each who wields it leaves their mark
- shapes future outcomes.
But such things lay in mystery
to random hands.
The tool, a marvel a menace,
some leave, work incomplete 
incapable of tolerating the unmistakable
and incessant noise it produces.
Those who tolerate and persevere 
are rewarded with wonder and delight.
Once set in motion this tool
- indescribable!
Yet fallible, it lays silent,
glaring signs of misuse and harm scattered
across its silent form.
Even in the most malevolent hands
it has produced surreal sights,
sublime beauty.
It has a purpose and that is its gift.
Time and distraction combined 
to cancel the mechanism
It makes no sound.
Serves no purpose.
Produces no inspiration.
It withers alone, useless.
The victim of oversight
and inertia it waits.
Its inner workings longing 
for needy hands.
Denying the passage of time
since it last heard 
the useful whine of its gears and cogs
The constant audible reassurance,
I am here
I am of use
I can astound!
Stupidly, it sits immobile
hoping for the day desperation
leads curious hands
to let it feel alive one more time
Willing in every inch of its being 
to reward that with magnificence.

escm?11tymm
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Think

Posted on November 11, 2012. Filed under: Mental Hurling, Musings, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

Those who claim to love themselves unconditionally generally do so ignorant of the true nature of their own mind. The duality of our thoughts are attributed to “evil” or outside forces. This can not be true. From the simmplest notions to the most complex emotions we are programmed. We behave and conciously think as we do because we are taught and conditioned to do so for the benefit of society.

However

To love yourself – all of yourself – you must accept the fact that that little voice in the back of your mind, …is valid. Those terrible thoughts of murderous rage. Lustful indiscretions. Selfish thoughtless-gimmie. Illegal, immoral, the pit is deep and dark. Those thoughts would  be acted upon if not for your training. Can you accept that? Think of all the horrible things that have crossed your mind. You conceivably are capable of each. Your subconcious spat it out, you created it, your doing.

Think long and hard about who you truly are.

Still in love with you?

sccirca10?

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Reprieve

Posted on August 13, 2012. Filed under: Mental Hurling, Musings, Prose, why the hell not | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

Silenced.  My voice means nothing
My words are all I have, all I am left with
Once proud and possessing qualities that made me whole
Complete
I am, was, stripped of all and left with my words
They fall on deaf ears
Air passes from my lips with thought and feeling,
At times great emotion accompanying it
The sounds I make are meaningless.
Reduced now to ink and paper
Searching for those who would understand
I see Hope.  What I recall Hope to be.
The world turns a deaf ear to my one remaining sanity
Save an island of hope
A promise of things I dare not say aloud
Lest the spell be broken
I long to freely admit my desire
Damn this self imposed gag order
I want camaraderie.  I long for sympathetic ears
I need intelligent banter.  I crave reciprocation
I sit, drowning in apathetic masses –
Unaware of the horror their mundane existence represents
Therein lies no beauty, no emotion, no truth
They grind and they shun simple words
Because they represent complex notions:
Why?  How?  What if?
Do you see?
Their eyes tightly closed they shuffle through life
Refusing to stray from their blindered paths
I need joy.  I’ve learned to relish my pain
I have to stay off their path
I endure, and have done so, because I have felt what it is
To be alive
I have died many times and come back
There is no blinder to negate that
The common consensus will not “see”
They refuse to hear.  Can NOT accept my words
Deny my voice
I cease to exist, it is their comfort
I can not stay silent
Though I may be ignored what is festering in me must be expelled
I will not allow my voice to be lost
Hope – my island – Hope listens
Hope hears, Hope understands
I say this now, know your true name
Walk with me, listen and know
That in doing so, You are Hope

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I’ve kissed my last ass

Posted on July 7, 2012. Filed under: Announcements, Contests, goofy crap, Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Prose, why the hell not | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

I promise I’m ok. I am a rubber ball. Every time, then, now, next time…. always. I know why I’m here, I know how to endure physical, mental and verbal abuse. Doesn’t matter what happens, I will always wind up on my feet.

I pull rabbits out of hats left and right. Know why?    Because I have to.

Know how? ……………. Neither do I. But there they are.

And here I am.

At the moment, I am all about doing what I need to get done. I NEED someone to renew my faith in mankind. I KNOW there is someone out there as so speshul as I am that the term “think outside the box” is funny. ( I laugh because I have to poke my head IN the box so people can understand me the majority of the time.)

The Magic Word Contest HAS MORE PRIZES… LOTS OF WICKED NEATO COOL STUFF, V A L U A B L E stuff. I want to give someone neato fun things!  

DO NOT PUT YOUR GUESS IN THE COMMENTS – IT WILL NOT BE ACKNOWLEDGED . I WILL SIMPLY DELETE IT.

CALL 908-FOR-EGGS with your guess. only one or two guesses per call, don’t call me trying to read the dictionary I’m going to call you a dork and hang up. (i really will) and if you blow up my phone and make me have to give up my toytoy number I took half a day to hunt down I am going to wish a splinter on you. (bank on that too)

haha!   ahem.   moving on:

Ok, Jewelry from the Marcimallow collection. Yes

I will create a work … satire in a timely manner or… something “deep” haha some of that purty mental vomit they love to publish and never pay me for if given time (I have no control over when or what that is about… it is a subliminal defense mechanism, I have no idea what I have written <consciously> until I’ve finished and I go back and read it. that’s why when eggstacee.com is up I intend to scan in the original and offer a typed translation. ALL mental vomit (prose) is hand written. ALL of it. The way the handwritting turns out is a part of the work. If that makes any sense. I know what I mean.    Your choice, I will throw down on whatever I find silly about some aspect of something in whatever area you choose to point me OR you can wait until I’m forced to banish the unbearable event from my mind by binding it to paper.

Ok, ADDITIONALLY there will be…

something egg related (obviously)

something really juvenile but neato cool anyway (because my inner child was always miserable and I explained why things were the way they were and knowing how she felt can’t resist the chance to indulge the crap out of her… we are so tight I let her run things often, No one can tell us apart anymore haha)

and I will ask a question that will seem odd but it will determine the very nature of the awesome prize I will choose for you.

I want to have fun.

I want to do fun things.

I wish I had the time to mess with ssl or csl or abc.. no wait, got that.   the web page crap that is specific to the template I INSIST on using because I adore it.

I’m so mean to me haha, gimme gimme huh… ok. Happy now, you have it and you can’t use it. Brat.

I earned it.

I’ll kick it in the butt… right after I put my life together in a way that I proper.

Tmobile managed to elminate what I accomplished … as promised.

It’s ok

I kept really clear undeniable records.  I don’t have much else to do to kill time till I can close on a new home.

nana… nana……. nananananan (insert jaws music)

(:

I’m going to start with the store on I-45 and FM 1960 in Houston, TX where the Manager and two employees joyously bashed humiliated lied belitted, one arrogant defective thing suddenly blathered nonsense and lunged at me claiming I was enciting violence! I was a bit freaked to say the least.

They lost their shit when I named them each and thanked them for their participation in my ability to prove the company wide malcious manipulation or exploitation of my disabilies and gleeful attempts to assure my misery and inability to persist in any capacity.

I called about the pseudo cop they threw on me as I tried to leave the parking lot to understand what I’d done that was criminal. The manager’s response after a 2 or 3 second pause was…. <click>

hahahah LIKE A BOSS

I called back and asked once more to help me understand since I have NO experience with crime crap … what brance of law enforcement do I need to contact to know what I face if I tresspass like I was warned not to do… <click>

What a man!

PLEASE   …do it.. embrace the opportunity to make someone admit they were evil. The manager of the store, when I stated I am pretty clear now that you really don’t like me… responded that’s right, I DON”T like you.   No, NO not at all.

HAHHAHAHAH wow, customer service with a grimace.

call and ask for me?  I get hung up on

 

and go find the magic word game!

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too blind

Posted on June 1, 2012. Filed under: Mental Hurling, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |

there it sits, a pathetic sight once caught by wandering eyes

design flaws rendered the line over after launch, few exist if others at all

not novel nor sought, no value assigned, stripped for scrap but left with one ability

intertia, none bother to know but avoided as if cursed,

no touch gave power to unlock the intended purpose encased in the derelict form

a secret, a test, a gift based on curiosity and drive to experience

lost things, a treasure and a dream

necessity to connect, find a mirrored path

silent and a dire reminder of suffocating solitute

to hint at it’s truth destroys its purose,

to utter objection destroys any hope

resigned to silent torment in secret

watched it sits, avoided, awash in disgust but a source

of individual solace

a chance at liberation

worth waiting

time is just time

it passes and patience is a price willingly paid

for a chance to face any reflection

such kindred emotion, patience is my bane

a price to pay, always a price

….. pain dulls over time

sit… learn… pay

endure in persuit of that moment

to have that moment

any price

pay pay perpetuate pay

kindred and waiting willing enduring…

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Necessity

Posted on May 8, 2012. Filed under: Miscellaneous, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , |

Calm, there’s air. Pull – Correct. Acceptable.  Now conform.

Not to convention, An asinine supposition.

Adhere to your set construct. The Concept is clear.

The mechanism, established.

Try to resist if necessary, to question sharpens the intellect.

Do so tethered to the concrete. The axis all sentience, in its time of peril defers to. A limbic compulsion. Muscle memory.

Tout. il n’y a pas un seule autre.

Universally, all return to that which allows the psyche to permit existence

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My coin, flipped

Posted on September 18, 2011. Filed under: Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , |

Thick tendrills reach out of darkness, creep along – drag their way across anything in their path.
Blind, yet they move with purpose. Each seeking to fufill it’s intent.
They lust for flesh.
Twisted fiverous doubt and misery. They hunt in the absence of light.
Unknowing, we offer ourselves to the horror.
No,
not all, only those of us who lack hope.
That inner light whose glimmer banishes the atrocities.
I yearn for such a radiant source. I knew it long ago.
Time is relative –
could have been yesterday.
The only certainty is now.
As I go to close my eyes I do so knowing I sacrifice my flesh and mind.
Chemically, I have no choice.
Having said this, I reluctantly slip into the void.

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SMProverb

Posted on July 24, 2011. Filed under: Miscellaneous, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

An electrified world full of hypocrisy, there your claim: top of your kind

Your sham dripping with irony because what you tout is maligned

Audaciously you solicit adoration, arrogantly blow your own horn

But woe to the fool pushing platitudes to which their ego can’t conform.

~Eggfucius   circa: onayesterday~

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From Another Me

Posted on July 21, 2011. Filed under: Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , |

Perpetual scabs – unable to heal
mental fingers worry and pick
time and repetition provide sick comfort
wear them like a badge
Survived.  So what?
others care – if worried to that point
pushed and dragged
wear them down – make them see
sick pride – silly games
all justification
a reason to give
a broken psyche to exist
malleable reality is beauty
Chameleon that has been created
rears the appropriate head
-give a situation
get an adaptation-
all to get by – no clear purpose
attempted use of ones self – inept
Fragile – much the snowflake
created by bitter forces
transient beauty
carried by whims
devoid of malice
dangerous to those overexposed
annihilated by pressure
would that I were a snowflake…
Brutally I remain
a collection of wanting scabs.

-sc/ur410/us

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Perception

Posted on July 21, 2011. Filed under: Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , |

Quite an odd feeling
Something being gone when you fully expect it to be there.
Sometimes it takes the absence of something you take for granted to make you see.
An obvious sentiment however one that bears repeating.

Little bits of my mind are lost, things I thought I needed. Lost. I can call it such because I actually miss what is gone. Lost implies you can possibly recover something, just a matter of will. Regardless of the terminology, the bottom line is… I am no longer whole.

How easy it is to shut down, to not see. The ability to bend reality in your own mind is a beautiful thing but transient. Reality is persistent. Eventually it will creep back in, steal into your thoughts, ruin any construction you choose to hide behind. No matter how grand or how simple, you decide to make your perception of a situation, the reality of it will get you eventually.

If time is a luxury then I am more poor than I imagined. Each tick of the clock brings me that much closer to actually seeing. The things I can not acknowledge will not be ignored. Where do you hide when your mind betrays you, when you can no longer blind yourself?

I spend my time unwisely. In these moments I have been given what have I accomplished? Each breath I draw is a lost moment, one where no dream was achieved, no progress made, nothing beneficial. Just a simple exchange of oxygen for carbon dioxide. The world will spin with or without any of us.

Where do you look to find a point? Do you listen to the word of another? Ultimately we answer to no one but ourselves.

Why must I mentally drag myself to even the most mundane of actions? There is something there, something driving me, an answer, I know there is. I have to make a choice. A large part of me looks at all of this life’s possibilities and feels the urge to jump to action!

What is unfortunate is even the smallest of doubts can outweigh the best of intentions. This burden, knowing the magnitude of what I have lost, weighs more than I know how to bear. I am at the mercy of my own insecurity, my own inaction.

There is an answer, there is an explanation. It is part of what is lost and I cling to the possibility of finding it. I now sit as I have so many times, fooling myself into believing that I will recover that missing magic bit of information. I think it is this delusion alone that powers my ability to move at all.

I am here. I will be here. I will keep looking.

I promise not to stray too far if you promise not to point out that I move in circles.

sc/bang01ish-ra(t)

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For Your Consideration

Posted on July 21, 2011. Filed under: Contests, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , |

Ask anyone to say the magic word
invariably they will say “please.”
That is a fallacy, a lie, it holds no power.
I know true magic.
A single word – when spoken properly –
can devistate.
This word can end lives.
Destroy families.
Cause the mightiest of men to question their own worth.
This damning word is tricky,
it is generally benign in nature.
We use it every day.
The evil magic it holds is manifested by the speaker.
It’s duality only exsists due to the capacity
for cruelty in men’s hearts… or women’s.
Both are as likely to curse another
with this life altering utterance.
Once viciously used, once Pandora’s box is opened,
it’s never truly the same afterward,
it’s never quite shut again.
Try as you wish, no ammends are complete.
The word leaves it’s mark on the receiver.
I dare not divulge the secret
I will say this:
Speak not in anger and do not be rash.
Words can be powerful.
Burning bridges can consume in a literal sense…

sc
sw/urus2/3.10

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So Majestic

Posted on July 21, 2011. Filed under: Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

I am the Queen of Nothing
I rule over the void with diligence
My commands echo back unheeded
My subjects, shadow and air
With loving care I tend to all
Every inch of oblivion
The sum of negative at my fingertips
I wield great power here
Tho I reign supreme I do so prudently
Great care is to be taken not to upset any balance
Rest assured while this Crown of Air rests upon my troubled head
Nothing will be alright

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