Thus

Valiantly, I fill my days with what used to be. What I used to do. The people I used to share the days with. I'm having myself caught in a swirl of things that used to make me think I'm whole. Make me think that everything deserves to be everything. But the days feel so hollow. They're hollow and they want you. You who can only fill them with so much.

I know it's never enough. I wish I know better than hanging on to something that is less than what I deserve.

Hence

Keep it that way. At least there is no need for words now. Not when words could only mess things up. I'm talking about you and how you wield them. How you make and break with them. Especially yourself.

There is a difference between Love and Fondness. The first one burns to death; the other fades away like a whisper.

That's where our difference lies. You burn me to death while I'll fade away in your memory like the whisper you once heard but cannot anymore recall.

This is The Fall. And there is no turning back.

EOLV Definitely is ISCOFUNO

This is me. For sure. Saying every little thing about you, every little thing you do, your platonic touch, your smile (even the misdirected ones), your Freudian slips, I trap them here, in this frail little chest of a heart, where they're kept away from the world, away from those who see only with judgment and ignorance.

They are all here. Every sensory detail true and tortuous. Every single one of them cutting me deep.

What does one do when there's only fondness and curiosity on one side of the equation and love on the other?

So, What's the Point?

Shut it all out of your life. Fade away from it all. There's nothing left to do, to be. All paths lead to suffering.

Respite is There for the Taking

Too bad I choose to live.

It's Me Stuck With The Who That I Can Only Ever Be

I'm not likely to change. I'll be trapped in this hurting force field forever. It'll be the same messed up choice that I would make over and over. It'd be the same twisted tale braving it all while it lasts. However it last.

Yes, it's me stuck with the who that I can only ever be.

Reproach

You see how a sliver of Hope
--even an imagined one--
can disillusion you?

You now see what a mess
it has wrought out of you?

Bored Inner Dialogue of the Bored

(Training Room 1, way past midnight, I sit bored in front of the computer while my co-trainees doze off to the sound of one of our kind being killed on the hot seat by our pretty trainer. This is a bored me talking to a bored me.)

the tie fails.

yeah, fails big time to make a festive air out of the world's general mood tonight.

what do you plan on doing next, then?

strip the tie off, i guess. would make breathing a whole lot easier.

when was the last time you had your forecfield checked?

i can't remember. i'm ashamed to say i haven't been too conscientious in updating it these days.

i thought it's got one of those internal update schemes.

sometimes i let third party updates handle that. especially when i'm feeling
particularly god-fearing.

ah, Silence. punctuated by taps on the keyboard by fingers flexed by thoughts the mouth wishes not to free.

are you into making sense out of the unverifiable, again?

uhuh.

nothing much. that's what you wanna say, isn't it?

what i really want to say is i need to have my troubleshooting skills heated and hammered and polished.

suddenly, this predilection for metallurgy!

well, i like to think i'm made of steel.

megatron is made of steel.

well, i'm made of a different kind of steel.

i dare say how dare the heavens cry tonight, when you're wearing white slacks.

i don't think i can handle commiseration tonight, fratello.

oh, you've never handled commiseration well all your life, caro. how's that for nice-sounding?

very nice-sounding. i wish life is more than just sarcasm thrown and lost.

you know for a fact that indeed it is more than your ego thrown and lost.

i'm talking about the scheme of catching falling things mostly surrendered by those who held out the longest.

ah, there's the catch! what good is a pair of hands when all there is to hold is a rotten heart?

or a rotten cabbage.

would pair nicely with rotten eggs.

so, how do you keep this stream of consciousness captured by mere mere words?
i will it.

why will it when you can just let it take its course. consciousness weighing down a patch of history the way a rock keeps a territory of earth from being swept by flighty zephyrs?

quit being such an ass and talk to me in the simplest way, please.

there is no simple way. the only way to truly listen is to accept what kind of filter you are. and you are a complicated filter, amico mio.

i glance at the clock. 10:25 PM. 35 minutes to 11 PM. 35 minutes to yet another episode of TWC Wave 15 PST: The Rise of That Which Is Yet To Be Known.

Sigh.

bearings, dear one. bearings. and never lose sight of the monsters lurking in the shadows.

i know what you're talking about. i submit.

perimeter fence?

yes.

extra barbed?

that can be arranged.

smoke screen humor?

yes.

suicide pellet?

yes.

only for dire circumstances.

only for dire circumstances.

check radar asap.

foreign eyes, retinal radiation detected, scanning properties.
scan result: unknown

if you care enough to tune in your audio receptors for a moment please?

yes.

you failed the initial test.

how so?

refer to code of self sustenance, under The Ideal of Absolute Hermetics.

i get the point.

i know. i just wish you'd point that to yourself.

anyway, i'm changing some settings in your psycho-social processing unit.
...
...
ahem, shouldn't i be informed a bit more on that--say, some well-deserved specifics?
in due time.

sigh.

configuration initiated.

(silence)

unit prepared for standby mode.

psycho-social receptors black out confirmed

I Mutter Myself To Death

Don't absorb your little pains too much. They can't do anything to you anyway. They'll be just scars. Scars that would define who you are.

Courage. To live in the present moment is Courage. To return every grace and curse received in full measure. To rise above the ills weighing you down.

It's okay to hope so long as it's internal. Hope is not for all the world to see. It's best to keep it to yourself, especially when it dies.

Status Message

i'm thinking eternal sunrise unmarred by frail clouds
i'm thinking of me facing the Light with not a shroud

of Doubt

that the hobbit indeed was right
when his heart said with all its might

"there's some good in this world
and it's worth fighting for"

This Heart is Mine

take heart just one more time
for one more time

(it'll take you to the next)

this world is not
what you wanted it to be

what you hoped all your life to be
i know it pains you

to have to say farewell
to the Morning that won't come

ever, as you need it to, the way
you hoped all your life it would

the heart is a curse that
many take but few ever realize

the heart is meant to be broken
and pieced together until that one last time

the heart is what
i've been trying to call mine

What Networking Comes To When You're Bored

wireless computer - e-child no longer connected to mom thru umbilical cord
no bloc sync - singer's faulty lip-sync
windows vista – redundant; window is already a vista (Sp. to see)
power cycle - EDSA 1, 2, and 3
Tier 3 - more crying involved
bypass router - snobbery among network equipment
disabled nic - person named nic maimed, decapitated, unmanned
FLAP - the sound your ears make when you try to understand the concept
of ranging hits (and failing)
Windows XP - the expert among all windows
Outage - state of Oblivion
Modem lights - in pedestrian/motorist
parlance: traffic lights
ip configuration - making sense
out of yourself peeing
blind troubleshooting – troubleshooting with the sightless

*with contributions from Nate Lane and Kyaji Eronico

From Norman Mailer

There are two kinds of brave men. Those who are brave by the grace of nature and those who are brave by an act of will.