online literature since 2007

Monday, April 13, 2009

epic war poem

part i:
if i want to go outside
i open the window

part ii:
i got shot in the chest
i wish it had been in the head

Saturday, April 11, 2009


I walk out into the bright, burning sun. I love it. I love all stars, but the sun is the one closest to me, and therefore I feel a personal connection to it.

I love sitting outside on a cloudless night and looking up at the universe. One of the millions of stars might have blue apes with machines guns running around on it. Or somewhere in the vast darkness there might be a black hole, leading to a separate universe where, well, I don't even know what the fuck would be there. And I love it.

I love getting drunk and remembering that my big small existence on this big small planet really doesn't matter that much in relativity to the obesity of the universe.

I take a screwdriver and screw my head back together. I walk back outside and light a cigarette. A skunk walks over to me and gives me a high five. In the street a car runs a red light and hits an old lady who was crossing the road.

None of it makes any sense.

And I love it.


I walk out into the sun. I love the sun. I hate artificial light. I spend most of my time under artificial light.

I find myself hating everyone around me. As I walk to class I just want to start beating the shit out of people that are laughing among themselves as I walk past them. Their laughter angers me. It makes me hate myself for not being in on the joke.

Which comes to the greater problem: I hate myself. It is through my own denial of hating myself that I turn that hatred outwards onto all the people around me.

Self-loathing. What a cliche. The very fact that it is a cliche makes me hate myself even more.

But this is getting me nowhere. Here I am, in the bright, burning sun, and all I can think about is Hate.

Growing up I was always conditioned to believe the phrase "God is Love." But if God even exists then I think the better phrase would be "God is Hate." If he didn't hate human beings then why would he leave us here to hate each other, kill each other, and miserably wait until death.

But this is getting me nowhere. The existence of God or gods is meaningless, inconsequential. I need to get to the core of the problem. For if I am just going to blame God for everything, then I am just finding another excuse for my hatred.

The solution to the problem is not to find the cause of my hatred but to move past my hatred.

But it's so hard.

And I hate it.