Wednesday, June 8, 2022

The End

Rather than being disillusioned by the raw and bitter truth of reality, we confuse ourselves with the intoxicating hope that every falling star is a sign from the heavens. We have come to accept that self-deceit is more comfortable than the chance of inspiration's end.

We are lost in time. No longer do the whispered enchantments echo from the halls of the cathedral of souls. No one hears the ancient songs because no one listens. The celestial choir is silent. Faith sacrificed for a moment of pleasure. I yearned for more.

I wanted to believe in a love that rivaled the magic in the writings of the literary giants of the past. I wanted to be consumed by the fires of that passion. I wanted to infuse those emotional ashes into my inkwell and share them with the world. I offered my heart...


 ゚。·*・。 ゚*

   ゚ *.。☆。★ ・

  * ☆ 。・゚*.。

    * ★ ゚・。。☆∴。 *

 ・゚*。★・

  ・ *゚。 

*.  And then she was gone

  ・ ゚*。・゚★。

   ☆゚・。°*. ゚

*  ゚。·*・。 ゚*

   ゚ *.。☆。★ ・

  * ☆ 。・゚*.。

    * ★ ゚・。 *  。

Written: 04/02/18 DBC

Judgement Day

Last eve, I reached through space and time and rediscovered the spark that kindled the fire that rages in my soul - the dawn of love.

Ages have passed and the flames burned on. 

Dreams sacrificed on the pyre of time. 

Yet the ashes of armorous memories remain. 

(Dancing) 

A whirlwind of glow and shadow. 

(Enchanting)

Love never released exists in time, begging to be rediscovered. 

Desire, never captured, flutters through space. 

Haunting every anguished lover. 

Whispering hints of forgotten words, ancient harmonies.

Long ago, a young boy, enraptured by the universe within his muse, stood.

(Staring)

This night, an old man gazes to the heavens, awaiting 

(Eschaton)

                                                 ...

  

Written: DBC 06/08/22

Edited by: Russ Hill

Sunday, May 8, 2022

Love is a Lie

I grew up reading and the believing the literary giants of the Romantic Era, even though all around me the world was proving the opposite. I believed in this magical emotion between individuals. I refused to put faith into anything that spoke to the contrary. I was enchanted  and consumed by their beautiful words, the promise of emotional intoxication, and the desire to walk in this wonderful world of blissful physical touch. So, I donned this fantastical mantle and wandered the ravaged streets of emotion looking for this Beacon of Hope. I watched houses burn, cities crumble, and worlds collapse. Darkness prevailed. Only ashes and rubble remained of this alleged majestic hearth of happiness. They  had lied. 

Love is a mental aberration. A lie. To yourself and to another. A projection of needed affirmation. An outside source of comfort that one cannot find within oneself.

Love is the antithesis to truth. It is a shadow in which lies and deceit cower. A void that envelopes purity and reason. A path to pain and madness.

Love is a lie. A poison. A graveyard for passion. An elixir of death. 

All of this is true when love is one sided. I'm off to put roses on the headstone.

Monday, March 21, 2022

One For The Guys

I'm directing this message toward the men out there. It can also be referenced by the ladies. Or it can pertain to whatever fucking pronoun you want to call yourself.

If your lover/wife ever gives you a phone number and says, "This is my new friend. Y'all have a lot in common. You would get along with him. Give him a call."  Yes! It is certain that she is fucking him. You know these words are true. She knows these words are true. And women blame it all on the guys. Women are just as promiscuous as men are, if not more so. 

I have discovered that I enjoy being by myself and being left the fuck alone. No more lies. No more deceit. The financial maintenance of another man's plaything is over.

My ex-wife and her fuckboi weaved such an intricate web of lies that I don't want to destroy it, yet. It is too beautiful. It is too perfect. They trapped themselves in a corner. Now they have to live with it. Everyone they work around and with knows the truth. They were even warned by a superior but did not care. Poison!

For now, it's just random thoughts. But I have all their correspondence. I'm working on the book. Jerry Springer, Geraldo, and Doctor Phil would fight over this one.

Love? Dead!

I remember a time when love had meaning. Trust, truth, loyalty, forever. Now the word is tossed around like the other key words of today, such as: racist, misogynist, sexist, and privilege. Love no longer has meaning. The promise is empty and hollow. Love Is a lie. Adultery is encouraged, accepted, and embraced. Women blame men. Men blame women. They are both wrong. It is the individual.

Sex has become a tool. Manipulative. Something to barter with. Something perverse. Intimacy is dead.

Sex, power, and greed have polluted love. Fear and doubt now rule the realm. Humanity prefers a tragedy over a triumph.

Marriage is now an institution. A bond of convenience. A marriage certificate is just an instrument for lawyers to fight over. Humanity returned to its simple and dark roots. Kill, rape, pillage, and burn. Now I understand why Freddie Mercury said, "sometimes wish I'd never been born, at all."

I've always known I would see the end of humanity. I've known it since a child. I did not want to believe it. I denied it. Humanity is dead. A semblance of civilization carries on, but compassion and love are dead. 

Enjoy the numb spoils of your battles. That's all you have left. Try not to choke on your lies and deceit.

My regrets

There are but four things I regret in my life. The first, not going to an adult and reporting things that happened to me as a child. It gave me a side darker than a moonless night. The second, confronting my wife about her promiscuity and adultery. I should have just kept working and let her maintain her boy toys. At least I would have had another 12 years with B. "Some people steal, not for the monetary value, but for the thrill of getting away with it. That's why I was cheating on you. The thrill I was wondering if you would ever catch me made the sex so much better. One guy led to another and before I knew it there were 16 guys." Her final words left my soul empty. The third, not reporting a young teen girl mouthing the words "help me," from a Suburban that pulled away from McDonalds. I thought she was joking because her mother was yelling at her. Now that I stand and fight against human trafficking, I have nightmares about that day. The fourth, betting $30,000 on the Astros to beat the Nationals in game 7 of the World Series a few years ago.

These are all major mistakes. They could have all been avoided. The first regret made me hate myself. After that, I did not care. I accepted the fact that bad things were going to happen to me.

Some people live outside the storm, some people live in the eye of the storm, some people live in the chaos of the storm.

Fuck it! Back into the maelstrom.

Saturday, January 15, 2022

What Is Life



When I was five years old, I was aware of the world. I was aware of God. I was enchanted with life. I thought life would be perfect. I thought I would live forever. And then came the darkness. The violent. The pain. The shame. The fear. The weakness. I became a target. 

First suicide attempt at nine years old. I remember crawling down the ladder into the swimming pool and pushing away. I remember the pain and panic of breathing water. I remember my spirit leaving my body, looking down upon myself in the water, and thinking it was finally over. Darkness. Flash. Then the Red Cross girl asking me if I was okay, as I coughed up water on her. I resent her.

Second suicide attempt at twelve years old. Always the outsider. They saw my fear. They fed on it. I wanted them to kill me. I gave them the opportunity. But they preferred perpetual torment. I swallowed about a tablespoon of mercury. I threw up and had a bad stomach ache. I failed again.

I hate humans. There is no such thing as humanity. There is only selfishness, greed, lust, and violence. No love. No justice. 

Third suicide attempt at 43 years old. My wife, at the time, cheated on me many times and got pregnant. She made me believe I was the father. I loved her and our son. I knew she was not faithful, but I was content. Then she started bringing men to the house. She told me that our son was not mine. She broke my heart. She broke my spirit. She broke my soul. She redirected her childhood torments into our relationship. She redirected her clients' problems into our relationship. So it began. Her family was rich, so they won the legal battle. Four bottles of painkillers and muscle relaxers dissolve in a bottle of rum. Darkness. Endless void. An understanding. Flash. I had made it. They stole it from me again. No heartbeat or brain activity for 10 minutes. I finally made it, but was robbed again. Damn doctors. 

Next time I will make it.

I don't want your sympathy. I don't want your pity. I want to be left the fuck alone. I trust no one.