Journal Entries

The Sky Is Falling.

I think it may have been Saragosa.
Or at the foot of Mount Olympus.
Or was it in the hills round Jerusalem?
In any case, wherever it was...something was found, and that's how it started-in the wind.
How could it be though? How could there be such evidence? If it was true. that was religion done and dusted...well, all but one.
The one true God EXISTS.
And boy, is my face red.
A life as an atheist and now this. I blame my parents, thats what happens when you get raised by open minded Westerners-I'll never forgive them for this.
TV s**t itself, there was an instant change.
Pornography-Gone.
Game Shows involving gambling or games of chance-Gone (I refer you to Deuteronomy 7...I know I'm an atheist but it's like when a great film comes out thats based on a book, you want to go back and read the source material.)
Western culture suddenly became humbled. Our skyscrapers and Airplanes. Our Pizzas and our Breast implants...they all quivered once we they knew we were under the watchful eye of the Christian God.
Few people asked the question that I wanted answered: "Is it the nice forgiving God from the New Testament or is it the Fire/Brimstone Wrathful God of the Old?" People didn't seem to care, there were too many other things to worry about...baptism and atrition to name but two.
Then one day my question was answered. The answer came to me whilst glancing through the pages of the morning newspaper-Forces of Nature had wrenched the city of Los Angeles from its tentative spot over the San Andreas Fault into the Pacific Ocean leaving the calming serenity of Arizona Bay. The city which brought us action movies, back slapping insincerity and the biggest porno industry on the face of the earth was gone-like a neon fart...it was there, then it was gone.

And after that, we all started praying, but prayers don't always get answered and they NEVER do if you are an irrevokable sinner, so we hid in our houses and waited for the inevitable wrath...and we used to think we were so f***ing clever.

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Jul 19, 2002

Human Remains...

My eyes slowly adjust to the natural darkness. I attempt to stand but find myself restricted by intertwining branches, each one as prickly and chafing as the next. It takes me a few minutes to wrench myself free, up and out into the clear sunshine.
Sleeping in a thicket...is this the way I would envisage my later years? A rhetorical question admittedly, but amazingly one with an answer...the answer is no.
I breathe in deep. It almost smells clean, the bitter taste at the back of my mouth remains but I no longer gag with each breath of air.
I glance left, then right. The road stretches on forever in both directions,it's what used to be called a "country road"-back when there were countries, back when there were words.
I step up and over the bush and plant my feet onto the hard scorched concrete. There's a lot of dust in my hair, I bend down and rub the cack out onto the road.
In the distance I can make out the video graveyards. An idea that made some b*****d rich- the video graveyards are fairly self-explanatory: instead of gravestones there were just big televisions with pre-recorded messages from the deceased playing eternally...some sing songs, some tell jokes no-one says sorry.
I sigh deeply and smell the mushroom cloud air once more and pick up whats left of my belongings- I keep them in a plastic bag, how appropriate.
Time to hit the road and find water, I turn and stagger to the East, all the while thinking "What good are emotions when there's no-one left to share them with?"
And as the midday sun hits I keep walking....

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Jul 9, 2002

Human Remains...

My eyes slowly adjust to the natural darkness. I attempt to stand but find myself restricted by intertwining branches, each one as prickly and chafing as the next. It takes me a few minutes to wrench myself free, up and out into the clear sunshine.
Sleeping in a thicket...is this the way I would envisage my later years? A rhetorical question admittedly, but amazingly one with an answer...the answer is no.
I breathe in deep. It almost smells clean, the bitter taste at the back of my mouth remains but I no longer gag with each breath of air.
I glance left, then right. The road stretches on forever in both directions,it's what used to be called a "country road"-back when there were countries, back when there were words.
I step up and over the bush and plant my feet onto the hard scorched concrete. There's a lot of dust in my hair, I bend down and rub the cack out onto the road.
In the distance I can make out the video graveyards. An idea that made some b******d rich- the video graveyards were fairly self-explanatory: instead of gravestones there were just big televisions with pre-recorded messages from the deceased playing eternally...some sing songs, some tell jokes no-one says sorry.
I sigh deeply and smell the mushroom cloud air once more and pick up whats left of my belongings- I keep them in a plastic bag, how appropriate.
Time to hit the road and find water, I turn and stagger to the East, all the while thinking "What good are emotions when there's no-one left to share them with?"
And as the midday sun hits I keep walking....

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Jul 9, 2002

Human Remains...

My eyes slowly adjust to the natural darkness. I attempt to stand but find myself restricted by intertwining branches, each one as prickly and chafing as the next. It takes me a few minutes to wrench myself free, up and out into the clear sunshine.
Sleeping in a thicket...is this the way I would envisage my later years? A rhetorical question admittedly, but amazingly one with an answer...the answer is no.
I breathe in deep. It almost smells clean, the bitter taste at the back of my mouth remains but I no longer gag with each breath of air.
I turn left, then right. The road stretches on forever in both directions,it's what used to be called a "country road"-back when there were countries, back when there were words.
I step up and over the bush and plant my feet onto the hard scorched concrete. There's a lot of dust in my hair, I bend down and rub the cack out onto the road.
In the distance I can make out the video graveyards. An idea that made some b*****d rich- the video graveyards were fairly self-explanatory: instead of gravestones there were just big televisions with pre-recorded messages from the deceased playing eternally...some sing songs, some tell jokes no-one says sorry.
I sigh deeply and smell the mushroom cloud air once more and pick up whats left of my belongings- I keep them in a plastic bag, how appropriate.
Time to hit the road and find water, I turn and stagger to the East, all the while thinking "What good are emotions when there's no-one left to share them with?"
And as the midday sun hits I keep walking....

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Jul 9, 2002

aonemantidalwave Hates You.

I am like a chainsaw cutting through concrete right now.
I'm akin to a nuclear winter at this moment.
I feel like a car crash.
like a broken TV set.
like a swollen bruise.
like an assassinated president.
I have had better days.
I have had worse days.
Everywhere I look I see something I want to yell at or destroy.
I want to give the whole world an enema.
I want Fires in the Cities.
I want to see chaos.
In the churches.
In the shopping malls.
In the flaming fields.
I want to be selfish today...and wish you all away.

Discuss this Journal entry [3]

Latest reply: Jul 5, 2002


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aonemantidalwave

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