So America has a problem force-feeding its gitmo prisoners and also forcing its celebrities onto others. Most people enjoy seeing talent and positive things. That's why shows such as "The Voice" are so popular while Miley Cyrus' text about her dad's affair is not, yet we're forced to see what we don't want to see or talentless voids.
Why?
Who else is sick of troubled Lindsay Lohan? My spellcheck doesn't even recognize her. I do and only because I've been forced to ingest her from the mass media.
Not everyone is someone, you see. Some of us are just ordinary people. We don't break the mold, and we never will by virtue of being ourselves. Nobody wants to see or hear anything we produce in mass quantities. Sure, I can write a book, be in an article or post an opinion, but it's just another scribble in the great etching that is the internet.
People drift towards what they want, not what they're forced to endure.
But there are others, numerous artists and people that audiences do want to see, and they should be celebrated, not pushed to the side for another mass media nobody.
I don't understand why my country indulges in so many nobodies.
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Don't Squeal And Remember That It's All In You Head
Literally.
So, when I was at the hospital, I told them there was something wrong with me, and they ignored me. There were physical signs that I'd had a head injury. My potassium kept dropping and my cholesterol was high for no reason. Plus, I was urinating on myself. One of my ER trips says I was discharged because "loss of consciousness" is not a typical sign of low potassium. I told them I thought it was low because I was having issues. It wasn't good that I was passing out. I know that. I went out on her in the room, and she ignored me. I was taking a nap.
People abuse me. I'm like Putin now. I want to kill them.
I told them I had a burning brain, and they told me it was a somatic hallucination. That's the abuse that psych patients go through.
Of course, the low potassium was causing me to hallucinate.
I hate people. They're nasty creations.
So, when I was at the hospital, I told them there was something wrong with me, and they ignored me. There were physical signs that I'd had a head injury. My potassium kept dropping and my cholesterol was high for no reason. Plus, I was urinating on myself. One of my ER trips says I was discharged because "loss of consciousness" is not a typical sign of low potassium. I told them I thought it was low because I was having issues. It wasn't good that I was passing out. I know that. I went out on her in the room, and she ignored me. I was taking a nap.
People abuse me. I'm like Putin now. I want to kill them.
I told them I had a burning brain, and they told me it was a somatic hallucination. That's the abuse that psych patients go through.
Of course, the low potassium was causing me to hallucinate.
I hate people. They're nasty creations.
Putin Betrayed Me
He said, "Don't go into politics if you don't want to be betrayed." He didn't say that to me but to another, and I guess it's true of him.
When I needed help the most, Putin left me out to dry. The FSB knows I exist, and they could have said something. It's called "Mannitol" or there's other stuff too. Thanks, bastard. Anyone could have helped there. They were stalking me. By the way, I was raveningly disturbed when that pressure was in my brain, like a Doberman is, foaming at the mouth. Then they continued to do their little operations without thinking about the root cause. Ask them. They wanted to brag to me.
That's okay. They pay my bills now for their neglect and abuse. I am trying to go back to work, but it's hard. I can't remember things.
I kept trying to get help and everyone ignored me as they always do, including my doctors. I told the VA OIG about it, and they're like, "Well, you could have gone to the patient advocate." I didn't even know that existed. And no, I couldn't have because I was too delusional and in pain. I hate the government. I want to sue them, but I can't. I told the lady, I'm like, "I can't sue you, but I want to." She's like, "You don't have enough money to sue me." How abusive. People suck.
That's okay because I'm just trying to use Putin as well. I would like to be smart and normal.
Sorry I wanted a newspaper article so badly. One of my exfriends has been in two, and I wanted one. I get jealous really easily.
Normally, I don't want to exist. Just sometimes, my lil eyes catch on fire. I'm a jealous person. People love to rub things in my face. They have quite a bit. Then they wonder why I become inflamed.
We all know I'm going to end up in prison. I'm too driven without ability. The lobotomy didn't stop me. It did nothing but make it so that I couldn't reason through my emotions or morals. It actually made doing bad things easier because I don't have to feel bad.
When I needed help the most, Putin left me out to dry. The FSB knows I exist, and they could have said something. It's called "Mannitol" or there's other stuff too. Thanks, bastard. Anyone could have helped there. They were stalking me. By the way, I was raveningly disturbed when that pressure was in my brain, like a Doberman is, foaming at the mouth. Then they continued to do their little operations without thinking about the root cause. Ask them. They wanted to brag to me.
That's okay. They pay my bills now for their neglect and abuse. I am trying to go back to work, but it's hard. I can't remember things.
I kept trying to get help and everyone ignored me as they always do, including my doctors. I told the VA OIG about it, and they're like, "Well, you could have gone to the patient advocate." I didn't even know that existed. And no, I couldn't have because I was too delusional and in pain. I hate the government. I want to sue them, but I can't. I told the lady, I'm like, "I can't sue you, but I want to." She's like, "You don't have enough money to sue me." How abusive. People suck.
That's okay because I'm just trying to use Putin as well. I would like to be smart and normal.
Sorry I wanted a newspaper article so badly. One of my exfriends has been in two, and I wanted one. I get jealous really easily.
Normally, I don't want to exist. Just sometimes, my lil eyes catch on fire. I'm a jealous person. People love to rub things in my face. They have quite a bit. Then they wonder why I become inflamed.
We all know I'm going to end up in prison. I'm too driven without ability. The lobotomy didn't stop me. It did nothing but make it so that I couldn't reason through my emotions or morals. It actually made doing bad things easier because I don't have to feel bad.
Saturday, June 29, 2013
My Opinions Don't Count
because I can't keep them straight. Whatever I think in the moment must be it!
My brain is destroyed. This doesn't help us.
My brain is destroyed. This doesn't help us.
I Think Putin Wronged Me
He knew I existed, and he didn't try to help. I needed mannitol or anything to release the pressure. Unless there's something in it for him, he's so reluctant to help. I understand this somewhat, not wanting to waste one's time on trivial matters, but there is such thing as common decency.
He left me alone when I needed help the most, like the others.
I believe in helping people when they need it, not merely when it suits my needs. Maybe that's why I'll never get anywhere.
He left me alone when I needed help the most, like the others.
I believe in helping people when they need it, not merely when it suits my needs. Maybe that's why I'll never get anywhere.
I'm Feeling Better
I'm still a pig. I'm learning to eat though. I did buy a Jimmy John's sandwich today, but I will not eat anything else. I'm not being anorexic, though that would do me good; Jimmy John's has a lot of calories in it.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Edward Snowden's Delusion
Is that he's a hero like Bradley Manning, that he could end all of the corruption. It takes a lot of people to make those kinds of decisions. He is pretending to be the sole knower of good and evil and that's wrong. He's holding the documents and releasing them at his will, like he's God.
I do not agree with Edward Snowden or leaks. The reactions are too complicated for sole individuals. I do feel some sympathy for Bradley Manning, however, but not Snowden. I think he's a decent person, but that's never enough.
My mind is fractured...
This is how my mind normally works. They were probably trying to fix it, but I'm still fractured. Probably because some of them wanted to hurt me too.
I do not agree with Edward Snowden or leaks. The reactions are too complicated for sole individuals. I do feel some sympathy for Bradley Manning, however, but not Snowden. I think he's a decent person, but that's never enough.
My mind is fractured...
This is how my mind normally works. They were probably trying to fix it, but I'm still fractured. Probably because some of them wanted to hurt me too.
Us and THem
There seems to be a mentality between both parties that it's us vs them. I understand this. I wish there could be harmony, but they are determined to be special as long as they are them. They think they are immune to everything.
They'll figure it out. Too bad so many of us have to suffer for their stupidity.
They'll figure it out. Too bad so many of us have to suffer for their stupidity.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Dear Edward Snowden,
Sorry you were led astray by your feelings of morals. They can confuse us. I used to feel deep morals. People exploited mine.
Anyway, you know nothing is going to change because people don't care. They are trapped in their lives. They'll wave a sign, which is a joke. The system will simply abuse us until it can't get away with it anymore. This will happen when they lose efficiency due to their corruption. A strong wall holds while a weak one does not. Things usually right themselves, don't worry.
They've been hurting people for no reason or for fun, like what Marilyn Manson did to me ("Eat Me, Drink Me" 2:01 it says, "Kaela" or me). Eventually, they'll realize that doesn't do them any good. Instead of getting pedophiles, crooks and robbers, they'll get the poor, old and disabled. We're netted into society with our families, so it hurts them in the end because it destabilizes the integrity of the family system. If only strong people make it, then people lose their morals. It's complicated.
Everything is so complicated. While you tried to help, you hurt us more. Ordinary people could never do anything. They don't have the matured realizations to swim in the water even. They try, and they drown. It's taken the others ages to get their wisdom. Sometimes, they forget, but they're quickly reminded by reactions that they deal with. Most of the time, it's better to stay in your scope, lane, whatever. I'm always trying to hurt them though, with the ordinary people, because they hurt me so deeply. They could have helped me then, but no, never, alas.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YFk4b6yeX4 They're kooky right now.
I don't know why you would give up a good life for something like this though. My life is always about suffering, and they'll find a way to hurt me some more. They always do. They'll never help me, not really. A drop of water doesn't save a dying man.
Putin thinks it's funny. He must be easily amused. The stars hold my fascination. Too bad I'll never reach them.
I'm waiting for a dark Lord. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=977mNMRg3ZM One who is tired of all of this, the world, and will save us all. I like real dictators and rules. We waste so much time on petty things like songs and poems, luxury. We don't have time for all the entertainment. It's boring anyway.
Anyway, you know nothing is going to change because people don't care. They are trapped in their lives. They'll wave a sign, which is a joke. The system will simply abuse us until it can't get away with it anymore. This will happen when they lose efficiency due to their corruption. A strong wall holds while a weak one does not. Things usually right themselves, don't worry.
They've been hurting people for no reason or for fun, like what Marilyn Manson did to me ("Eat Me, Drink Me" 2:01 it says, "Kaela" or me). Eventually, they'll realize that doesn't do them any good. Instead of getting pedophiles, crooks and robbers, they'll get the poor, old and disabled. We're netted into society with our families, so it hurts them in the end because it destabilizes the integrity of the family system. If only strong people make it, then people lose their morals. It's complicated.
Everything is so complicated. While you tried to help, you hurt us more. Ordinary people could never do anything. They don't have the matured realizations to swim in the water even. They try, and they drown. It's taken the others ages to get their wisdom. Sometimes, they forget, but they're quickly reminded by reactions that they deal with. Most of the time, it's better to stay in your scope, lane, whatever. I'm always trying to hurt them though, with the ordinary people, because they hurt me so deeply. They could have helped me then, but no, never, alas.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YFk4b6yeX4 They're kooky right now.
I don't know why you would give up a good life for something like this though. My life is always about suffering, and they'll find a way to hurt me some more. They always do. They'll never help me, not really. A drop of water doesn't save a dying man.
Putin thinks it's funny. He must be easily amused. The stars hold my fascination. Too bad I'll never reach them.
I'm waiting for a dark Lord. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=977mNMRg3ZM One who is tired of all of this, the world, and will save us all. I like real dictators and rules. We waste so much time on petty things like songs and poems, luxury. We don't have time for all the entertainment. It's boring anyway.
Putin and Love in All the Wrong Places
So I've had a life. I'm Miss Antihero, excuse me.
I loved Putin only because he paid attention to me, pretended I existed for a moment. Then he betrayed me too, left me here to die. They all do. Why do I expect more out of people when they are all the same?
Most people hate me. Most people abuse me. Most people expect me to be something I'm not and use it to bash me. No amount of anything I do is ever seen in a good way. People just want to hurt me. Putin was no different. He's a dICKtator. These people have power, and you wonder why. You can see all the good they could do, but all they do is further their own ends or destroy the planet.
It's like the disabled people. They have the ability to fix us now, but they never will. They hunt us like in Tatu's "Invalidy." Again, she's bashing us to the bottom of the barrel. They'll just use the technology for war and nothing more.
This is what I want to be, dammit.
We are Borg...
I loved Putin only because he paid attention to me, pretended I existed for a moment. Then he betrayed me too, left me here to die. They all do. Why do I expect more out of people when they are all the same?
Most people hate me. Most people abuse me. Most people expect me to be something I'm not and use it to bash me. No amount of anything I do is ever seen in a good way. People just want to hurt me. Putin was no different. He's a dICKtator. These people have power, and you wonder why. You can see all the good they could do, but all they do is further their own ends or destroy the planet.
It's like the disabled people. They have the ability to fix us now, but they never will. They hunt us like in Tatu's "Invalidy." Again, she's bashing us to the bottom of the barrel. They'll just use the technology for war and nothing more.
This is what I want to be, dammit.
We are Borg...
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
I Wasn't Even a Dissident Before
The video took me out of context, "I Want to Believe." Then I felt hurt and betrayed, so I betrayed. I tried worshipping my leaders, but it didn't work. People just want to hurt me. They never stop and now I'm trapped here, which is where they want me. I don't vote. I don't go to church (which is another no no according to Marilyn Manson). There is no direction here. I don't know who to follow or how to follow the rules.
Weight Problems
Since I had the lobotomy done to me, I've had problems with my weight. I have no concept of time, and I'm constantly seeking out stimuli. If I stop moving or doing something, my mind goes blank, and I freak out. I want to eat constantly as well.
People make fun of me, and it's annoying. I couldn't really exercise as big as I was. I'm still getting down to where it's manageable. I've lost 14 pounds now.
I shouldn't hate on Putin because I never know for sure what RT is saying or what is going on, but that's what it seemed like. It's just, I hate being like this. I had dreams and goals and now everything is destroyed.
People love seeing me suffer and destroyed. They always have, always will. I can't rise above, never could.
People make fun of me, and it's annoying. I couldn't really exercise as big as I was. I'm still getting down to where it's manageable. I've lost 14 pounds now.
I shouldn't hate on Putin because I never know for sure what RT is saying or what is going on, but that's what it seemed like. It's just, I hate being like this. I had dreams and goals and now everything is destroyed.
People love seeing me suffer and destroyed. They always have, always will. I can't rise above, never could.
I Truly Hate Putin and Hope He Dies Horribly
I used to like him. I was sexually attracted to him because he abused me, and I was into that, Stockholm syndrome, and I was a sadomasochist. The world is so messed up that I don't know, but I know at least Putin will get what's coming to him. I'm getting a dart board with his face on it.
You should know what he did to me, and he won't even right it. What a piece of crap and now I'm trapped like this, and he's like, I'll just ignore her. You had time enough to do this to me.
He did it so that these people would come after me.
Wonder if they'll figure it out... I'm the one who'll pay for this because I'm vulnerable.
He's rich, powerful and getting old and ugly. He's boring now. I'm moving on. Bye, Putin, have fun with your whores 'cause that's all you'll ever attract.
You should know what he did to me, and he won't even right it. What a piece of crap and now I'm trapped like this, and he's like, I'll just ignore her. You had time enough to do this to me.
He did it so that these people would come after me.
Wonder if they'll figure it out... I'm the one who'll pay for this because I'm vulnerable.
He's rich, powerful and getting old and ugly. He's boring now. I'm moving on. Bye, Putin, have fun with your whores 'cause that's all you'll ever attract.
I Have a Confession
I'd like to be in the newspaper just once. I want to talk about the weapons. I know my case is complicated, and I think this calls for discussion. I think it would be appropriate. Plus, I'm tired of doing desperate things to try to garner an audience. It's exhausting. You know, I used to be a nice, quiet girl who never said anything. Then I was corrupted. I get all offended when I'm ignored, even though nobody has to pay attention to me. It's an inside thing, weird. It's only because I've put so much effort into this.
If we are to be given lobotomies (on top of everything else), should we not go through the court system? If their invention is so great, what do they have to fear?
As far as treason goes, I think I should have been given a trial. I signed some sort of paper when I left the army, and I think they could have tried me. It just makes things more efficient to have a trial. I was ill at the time, and I think that needed to be taken in to consideration. They could have fixed me then and not bothered me so much.
Obama doesn't have to worry. He's gotten away with everything else. He seems to be immune to all charges, so this won't upset the state of his affairs. LOL The world makes me laugh.
It's "Kaela" at 2:01. I think their punishments are a bit extreme. Kooky.
I've been through quite a lot.
If we are to be given lobotomies (on top of everything else), should we not go through the court system? If their invention is so great, what do they have to fear?
As far as treason goes, I think I should have been given a trial. I signed some sort of paper when I left the army, and I think they could have tried me. It just makes things more efficient to have a trial. I was ill at the time, and I think that needed to be taken in to consideration. They could have fixed me then and not bothered me so much.
Obama doesn't have to worry. He's gotten away with everything else. He seems to be immune to all charges, so this won't upset the state of his affairs. LOL The world makes me laugh.
It's "Kaela" at 2:01. I think their punishments are a bit extreme. Kooky.
I've been through quite a lot.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Struggling With Schizophrenia: Inside Out
I wish they would have fixed this but not have left me an idiot. They did the procedure more than once (the girl in my head, and those who know what I'm talking about, know what I'm talking about). I'm also disturbed that I know about it. I feel like I don't have control, and it makes me mad, like they took something from me. I want to hurt them. I would rather have never heard her, the one that talked to me, never known that they edited me. I feel like I lost something, like they punished me. I feel abused, especially after watching the videos about it.
I still think we should go to court to have it done to us so that they don't do it more than once, and they don't do it in an abusive way.
Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. It was almost as cruel as placing hope in Putin. I know he never could, but the possibility hurt. Temptation...
What I Want to Do
I want to be useful. I don't want to be shunned anymore or used in foul ways.
I would like to be a scientist, and I also want to go to Antarctica. That's what I really want to do, but how to do it is the problem. I can't remember things, things that build off of each other. People are like, "Well, you're doing great." Yeah, I'm great for some remedial task that requires the brain of a monkey and gets me shunned again, which people love doing because people suck. I like math and science, but I can't do it. I don't care for literature, not really.
Truly, I want to be more. I don't mind doing basic tasks while preparing for more, but when there is no hope...
You don't know how tempting it was when Putin highlighted me. I thought I could, and it was a stretch, get his attention one last time. I know they'll never share their profound technology with the public. I have no faith in them. And why should I after all they put me through? How dare them.
It's all a joke.
Pretty much:
After the lobotomy, I don't have morals, so I don't care about not being special. I'm special because I'm me and the only person I'm ever going to be. Nobody is just going to save me. I have to do better than that. I tried asking nicely.
No, I don't mind being jealous, and even if it's pathological, other people deserve it for treating me like that, not respecting me, not thanking me. A lobotomy doesn't change a thing in my world, minus making it so that I was drooling on myself for a while. I know I hit my head too. It was a combo. The MRI showed both. And they didn't want to do the lobotomy when I still had a life, so I don't believe in their fairytale. I'm still jealous. I want. I don't care about their money or anything else. I just care about redemption after my life. It's been difficult.
http://www.foxnews.com/health/2013/06/24/eternal-sunshine-bionic-mind-prosthesis-could-restore-memory/ Why can't I volunteer for this procedure? It's my life. If I want to lose it, I lose it. I do not agree with their interference. They always talk about ethics when they have none, not one moral, not the right ones anyway. If we could fix people, we could make the world a better place. Why not enhance humanity instead of destroying it? All they do is hurt things.
I would like to be a scientist, and I also want to go to Antarctica. That's what I really want to do, but how to do it is the problem. I can't remember things, things that build off of each other. People are like, "Well, you're doing great." Yeah, I'm great for some remedial task that requires the brain of a monkey and gets me shunned again, which people love doing because people suck. I like math and science, but I can't do it. I don't care for literature, not really.
Truly, I want to be more. I don't mind doing basic tasks while preparing for more, but when there is no hope...
You don't know how tempting it was when Putin highlighted me. I thought I could, and it was a stretch, get his attention one last time. I know they'll never share their profound technology with the public. I have no faith in them. And why should I after all they put me through? How dare them.
It's all a joke.
Pretty much:
After the lobotomy, I don't have morals, so I don't care about not being special. I'm special because I'm me and the only person I'm ever going to be. Nobody is just going to save me. I have to do better than that. I tried asking nicely.
No, I don't mind being jealous, and even if it's pathological, other people deserve it for treating me like that, not respecting me, not thanking me. A lobotomy doesn't change a thing in my world, minus making it so that I was drooling on myself for a while. I know I hit my head too. It was a combo. The MRI showed both. And they didn't want to do the lobotomy when I still had a life, so I don't believe in their fairytale. I'm still jealous. I want. I don't care about their money or anything else. I just care about redemption after my life. It's been difficult.
http://www.foxnews.com/health/2013/06/24/eternal-sunshine-bionic-mind-prosthesis-could-restore-memory/ Why can't I volunteer for this procedure? It's my life. If I want to lose it, I lose it. I do not agree with their interference. They always talk about ethics when they have none, not one moral, not the right ones anyway. If we could fix people, we could make the world a better place. Why not enhance humanity instead of destroying it? All they do is hurt things.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
I Don't Want to
Well, so all of my friends ditched me. J of Springfield, MO was the biggest bitch on the planet and when I crack, I'm thinking of going after her. I'm going to give her a hug, police. I don't care if she sues me, calls me immature or anything else. I hate her and hope she gets something horrible thrown her way. Campbell got what she deserved.
I needed somebody, anybody, and they all betrayed me at once. This was before I went all Rambo over the internet.
I know, I know, I get to work at Wal-Mart and do nothing with my life while everyone else gets to live it up, have friends, do fun things. They wonder why I get jealous. I get to deserve it because of my brain. I found out today that they have a procedure that could help me, but I'll never see it. I could be normal, go to real school, and be a scientist, which is my dream.
I wouldn't have to worry about the crackheads in Hollywood trying to use me to further their own agendas. I am in "Eat Me, Drink Me" at 2:01. It says Kaela. I'm sure he'll say it's another, but it's me, just like I'm in "I Want to Believe." What the fuck is wrong with them? I'm a person.
Normally, I live in my delusions and I'm pretty content in Hell, paying dues (not that I'd ever get anywhere anyway, but that's what I say), but they've made that difficult. I want my brain fixed or my hallucination-reward back.
Anyway, Russian mafia, or anyone, could you go give J a hug. I'm in a bad mood and someone has to pay.
I agree with Bjork a little today.
If you want to know, I don't remember new information very well. I barely remember Medea or breakfast. While it looks like I have ability, I'm fairly disabled due to my defect. I spent years learning how to type and do basic grammar.
I needed somebody, anybody, and they all betrayed me at once. This was before I went all Rambo over the internet.
I know, I know, I get to work at Wal-Mart and do nothing with my life while everyone else gets to live it up, have friends, do fun things. They wonder why I get jealous. I get to deserve it because of my brain. I found out today that they have a procedure that could help me, but I'll never see it. I could be normal, go to real school, and be a scientist, which is my dream.
I wouldn't have to worry about the crackheads in Hollywood trying to use me to further their own agendas. I am in "Eat Me, Drink Me" at 2:01. It says Kaela. I'm sure he'll say it's another, but it's me, just like I'm in "I Want to Believe." What the fuck is wrong with them? I'm a person.
Normally, I live in my delusions and I'm pretty content in Hell, paying dues (not that I'd ever get anywhere anyway, but that's what I say), but they've made that difficult. I want my brain fixed or my hallucination-reward back.
Anyway, Russian mafia, or anyone, could you go give J a hug. I'm in a bad mood and someone has to pay.
I agree with Bjork a little today.
If you want to know, I don't remember new information very well. I barely remember Medea or breakfast. While it looks like I have ability, I'm fairly disabled due to my defect. I spent years learning how to type and do basic grammar.
Putin Is Ozymandias From the Watchmen, Long Story
Satan’s Silhouette (I wrote this essay thinking about him. I think he's Ozymandias.)
From the beginning of time, man has struggled with villains. They have haunted the chambers of both his reality and imagination, igniting dark flames wherever they go. The torch of their destruction is all too known. It has burned a hole in the very soul of mankind. It is true that man has known these villains by many names, and yet, they often appear to be the same or of a similar character. We can see that Ozymandias from the “Watchmen,” Medea from Medea and Satan from Paradise Lost share many features. It is almost as if they are fruit from the same tree, rotten fruit, and yet, wine can be made from their fermented bodies, the spice of life that tempts us to follow ways not typical of the good.
Ozymandias is like Satan and Medea in that he betrays. He has the personality of a traitor. Ozymandias is one of the Watchmen. He helps fight crime with the others, and yet, for his own personal mission, he decides to abandon his creeds and betray his fellow men and women. He leaves them behind. Medea kills her family and the king, a high ranking authority. Satan possesses similar sentiments and wants to overthrow God. Satan is cast out of Heaven and forced to wander in other realms. While Ozymandias is understood by the God figure, Dr. Manhattan, he is, like Satan, unable to overthrow God. God seems to understand Satan in some ways, and He does not destroy Satan, but He tries, like Dr. Manhattan, to foil some of Satan’s plans much to the dismay of Ozymandias who, like Satan, will do anything in his power to get his way and destroy all of his enemies. Medea also damages anything that gets in her path, like King Creon from Medea (853). The gods do not seem to mind Medea’s actions either.
Ozymandias has a dark temperament like Medea and Satan. He is not always in pleasant moods, and he is often contemplative in his actions and thoughts. Ozymandias is not a black and white character. He is not pure, unadulterated evil. He is a shade of grey, a being that choses to walk in the shadows of reality. He lingers in the mists of his fellow beings and waits for an opportunity to trick them, but he shows some light in that he has noble intentions to save the planet. Satan isn’t completely corrupt either, as he possesses reason. Ozymandias is still from a lower realm indeed, and he spreads his tinted realizations around and helps corrupt the world with his vision. Ozymandias wants to bring humanity to its knees for peace, or a world made by Ozymandias, and Satan wants to twist the world for his own ends as well. We see this in Paradise Lost, Book II when Satan brings up another battle (II:51). He only wants peace for his own sordid soul, a place where he can make up for his foul character. Medea seeks evil tranquility as well in another kingdom.
Satan and Ozymandias are both celebrities. It is part of their personality. Satan seems to want the glorious attention of his fellow man, and so does Ozymandias. This characteristic is easy to see. Ozymandias creates a multibillion dollar industry by “prostituting the struggles” of the fellow Watchmen (Movie: “Watchmen”). Like Satan, Ozymandias wants the attention and greatness that celebrity brings. Satan uses humans as his prostitutes for attention, and he manages to trick all of mankind for eternity. It isn’t like Satan is modest about his accomplishments. He is a well-known figure who is always bringing chaos into the mortal realm since the day he acted like a serpent and tricked Eve into eating the forbidden fruit (IX: 781). With this action he was able to bring about the attention of God and slight him. Ozymandias has this quality about him, as he is constantly doing things “for the ink” (Movie: “Watchmen”) or to be in the newspapers. He wants to be known. He wants people to pay attention to him, as he feels that he is the light of the world, the sole deliverer of a new age where there will be harmony.
Ozymandias is the hero of his reality as are Satan and Medea. Both Ozymandias and Satan feel like they’ve been wronged somehow, as does Medea. Satan thinks that it is better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven (I:263) along with Medea, and Ozymandias appears to believe the same. Ozymandias believes, again, that he is the only one who can bring peace to mankind. He goes out and destroys the entire world to build a new one, not minding the destruction of cities while Satan doesn’t mind the death of man and how man will be cast from the garden of paradise. We can see that Ozymandias is not a follower, and neither is Satan. Medea prefers to lead as well, not wanting to obey Jason (855). The qualities of Satan and Medea come out in detail in Ozymandias, especially the desire to be seen and heard. They are troubled souls on a mission. They are all rebels in disguise, and they see what they want and desire to force others to behold their wonders.
Another aspect that is shared between Ozymandias, Medea and Satan is that they feel a hint of regret for what they have done. They are not blind sociopaths driven by some unknown force foreign to mankind. They know that they have done evil. They feel it in their hearts as it scourges their minds, leaves them yearning for the heavens that once were so clear and readily available to them. Ozymandias makes himself watch every innocent face he has
“sacrificed” for mankind (Movie: “Watchmen”). Satan, meanwhile, feels the loss of contentment that he once had, “Loss of happiness and lasting pain/ Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes,/ That witnessed huge affliction and dismay/ Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate” (I:56-59). Ozymandias’ soul becomes angry when he thinks of all he has done, killed, while Satan is also in pain for all he has done. Medea cries over her children. Ozymandias, Medea and Satan seek to make things right in their own way.
In conclusion, we can see that Satan, Medea and Ozymandias have shared souls. They share many characteristics with each other. They are driven by the same powers. Satan is the perfume that Ozymandias and Medea wear. These villains may go by different names, but they are from the same grim origin.
(Works Cited on next page.)
This is my favorite poem ironically.
Works Cited
Brian Wilkie; James Hurt. “The Ancient World Through the Renaissance.” Literature of the Western World. Prentice Hall: 2000.
Watchmen. Dir Zach Snyder. Warner Bros. Pictures. 2009.
From the beginning of time, man has struggled with villains. They have haunted the chambers of both his reality and imagination, igniting dark flames wherever they go. The torch of their destruction is all too known. It has burned a hole in the very soul of mankind. It is true that man has known these villains by many names, and yet, they often appear to be the same or of a similar character. We can see that Ozymandias from the “Watchmen,” Medea from Medea and Satan from Paradise Lost share many features. It is almost as if they are fruit from the same tree, rotten fruit, and yet, wine can be made from their fermented bodies, the spice of life that tempts us to follow ways not typical of the good.
Ozymandias is like Satan and Medea in that he betrays. He has the personality of a traitor. Ozymandias is one of the Watchmen. He helps fight crime with the others, and yet, for his own personal mission, he decides to abandon his creeds and betray his fellow men and women. He leaves them behind. Medea kills her family and the king, a high ranking authority. Satan possesses similar sentiments and wants to overthrow God. Satan is cast out of Heaven and forced to wander in other realms. While Ozymandias is understood by the God figure, Dr. Manhattan, he is, like Satan, unable to overthrow God. God seems to understand Satan in some ways, and He does not destroy Satan, but He tries, like Dr. Manhattan, to foil some of Satan’s plans much to the dismay of Ozymandias who, like Satan, will do anything in his power to get his way and destroy all of his enemies. Medea also damages anything that gets in her path, like King Creon from Medea (853). The gods do not seem to mind Medea’s actions either.
Ozymandias has a dark temperament like Medea and Satan. He is not always in pleasant moods, and he is often contemplative in his actions and thoughts. Ozymandias is not a black and white character. He is not pure, unadulterated evil. He is a shade of grey, a being that choses to walk in the shadows of reality. He lingers in the mists of his fellow beings and waits for an opportunity to trick them, but he shows some light in that he has noble intentions to save the planet. Satan isn’t completely corrupt either, as he possesses reason. Ozymandias is still from a lower realm indeed, and he spreads his tinted realizations around and helps corrupt the world with his vision. Ozymandias wants to bring humanity to its knees for peace, or a world made by Ozymandias, and Satan wants to twist the world for his own ends as well. We see this in Paradise Lost, Book II when Satan brings up another battle (II:51). He only wants peace for his own sordid soul, a place where he can make up for his foul character. Medea seeks evil tranquility as well in another kingdom.
Satan and Ozymandias are both celebrities. It is part of their personality. Satan seems to want the glorious attention of his fellow man, and so does Ozymandias. This characteristic is easy to see. Ozymandias creates a multibillion dollar industry by “prostituting the struggles” of the fellow Watchmen (Movie: “Watchmen”). Like Satan, Ozymandias wants the attention and greatness that celebrity brings. Satan uses humans as his prostitutes for attention, and he manages to trick all of mankind for eternity. It isn’t like Satan is modest about his accomplishments. He is a well-known figure who is always bringing chaos into the mortal realm since the day he acted like a serpent and tricked Eve into eating the forbidden fruit (IX: 781). With this action he was able to bring about the attention of God and slight him. Ozymandias has this quality about him, as he is constantly doing things “for the ink” (Movie: “Watchmen”) or to be in the newspapers. He wants to be known. He wants people to pay attention to him, as he feels that he is the light of the world, the sole deliverer of a new age where there will be harmony.
Ozymandias is the hero of his reality as are Satan and Medea. Both Ozymandias and Satan feel like they’ve been wronged somehow, as does Medea. Satan thinks that it is better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven (I:263) along with Medea, and Ozymandias appears to believe the same. Ozymandias believes, again, that he is the only one who can bring peace to mankind. He goes out and destroys the entire world to build a new one, not minding the destruction of cities while Satan doesn’t mind the death of man and how man will be cast from the garden of paradise. We can see that Ozymandias is not a follower, and neither is Satan. Medea prefers to lead as well, not wanting to obey Jason (855). The qualities of Satan and Medea come out in detail in Ozymandias, especially the desire to be seen and heard. They are troubled souls on a mission. They are all rebels in disguise, and they see what they want and desire to force others to behold their wonders.
Another aspect that is shared between Ozymandias, Medea and Satan is that they feel a hint of regret for what they have done. They are not blind sociopaths driven by some unknown force foreign to mankind. They know that they have done evil. They feel it in their hearts as it scourges their minds, leaves them yearning for the heavens that once were so clear and readily available to them. Ozymandias makes himself watch every innocent face he has
“sacrificed” for mankind (Movie: “Watchmen”). Satan, meanwhile, feels the loss of contentment that he once had, “Loss of happiness and lasting pain/ Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes,/ That witnessed huge affliction and dismay/ Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate” (I:56-59). Ozymandias’ soul becomes angry when he thinks of all he has done, killed, while Satan is also in pain for all he has done. Medea cries over her children. Ozymandias, Medea and Satan seek to make things right in their own way.
In conclusion, we can see that Satan, Medea and Ozymandias have shared souls. They share many characteristics with each other. They are driven by the same powers. Satan is the perfume that Ozymandias and Medea wear. These villains may go by different names, but they are from the same grim origin.
(Works Cited on next page.)
This is my favorite poem ironically.
Works Cited
Brian Wilkie; James Hurt. “The Ancient World Through the Renaissance.” Literature of the Western World. Prentice Hall: 2000.
Watchmen. Dir Zach Snyder. Warner Bros. Pictures. 2009.
I Don't Understand Some People
How can you do something this evil to another person? I guess I will too. Everyone else is.
Is it the power that incites these people? Do they think they can save the world like Bjork? She'll never do anything but whore and sing. She is pretty. It's all she's capable of, so I guess it's good she does it well, like Madonna. They chose Bjork because she's stupid. She's undesirable. She never finished any decent school, never did anything for the planet but corrupt it with her stupidity. I'm not being jealous. I truly hate her. I can't feel it, but I wish her nothing but pain and agony. May she die horribly. You know it'll be me who pays for her love and caring because I'm vulnerable, but she's not smart enough to figure that out. Stupid whore.
What did I ever do to you? I can't do anything to the empire anyway. Nobody can hear me.
Meanwhile, I'll kick back with Putin. At least he could face me.
Truly, I'm only happy when it rains.
Is it the power that incites these people? Do they think they can save the world like Bjork? She'll never do anything but whore and sing. She is pretty. It's all she's capable of, so I guess it's good she does it well, like Madonna. They chose Bjork because she's stupid. She's undesirable. She never finished any decent school, never did anything for the planet but corrupt it with her stupidity. I'm not being jealous. I truly hate her. I can't feel it, but I wish her nothing but pain and agony. May she die horribly. You know it'll be me who pays for her love and caring because I'm vulnerable, but she's not smart enough to figure that out. Stupid whore.
What did I ever do to you? I can't do anything to the empire anyway. Nobody can hear me.
Meanwhile, I'll kick back with Putin. At least he could face me.
Truly, I'm only happy when it rains.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
I'll Be Honest
I don't want to be good anymore. For one, it's only gotten me shit. Two, I want to spite myself to get back at other people. It's hard for me to resist doing something bad sometimes due to the latter.
What right do these people think they have over my life? Tatu, Madonna, Bjork, Putin, I don't even know these people and yet they come rushing in to destroy me.
Here are some more of them:
They don't use their talents--if they have any. All they do is eat of other people.
I still want to be circumcised. It's my revenge.
I'm starting to really lose my temper. Yup, I'm gonna blow, though I can't feel it. Maybe then I'll get an article in the paper and draw some light to all this bullshit. I can't even reason or process information.
What right do these people think they have over my life? Tatu, Madonna, Bjork, Putin, I don't even know these people and yet they come rushing in to destroy me.
Here are some more of them:
They don't use their talents--if they have any. All they do is eat of other people.
I still want to be circumcised. It's my revenge.
I'm starting to really lose my temper. Yup, I'm gonna blow, though I can't feel it. Maybe then I'll get an article in the paper and draw some light to all this bullshit. I can't even reason or process information.
New Story
http://www.lulu.com/shop/rebecca-troup/dead-west/ebook/product-21081107.html
I don't even remember what it's about. I wrote it a while ago.
I don't even remember what it's about. I wrote it a while ago.
What They Think Happened: Hell If I Know What Actually Went Down
What They Think Happened
The girl was a short one. She wasn’t attractive, not especially, but she wasn’t unattractive either. Cute would be the best way to describe her. She was at that age where a marble looks like a gem. She was petite with brown hair and blue eyes, great big blue eyes. The kind that would look on you like saucers, desperate and loving. She was still innocent then, still frail and naïve and protected.
She was perfect for the mission. The specialist wrote down her name and observed her habits. She was a peculiar girl who didn’t engage in the normal activities of the barracks. She was a loner, spiritual, habitually unique, a quality that most likely made her an object of scorn.
Did she even realize the meaning of her rebellion? Did she know the others looked at her with eyes of fire? Why didn’t she do as they did? Why was she so different?
She acted like a child most of the time. She wore those clothes, those horrendous things. They were bright and had patterns on them. They would have been suited for a fifth grader, not someone of her age. She was much too smart for that, the specialist thought, and yet she did it.
But she was perfect for their plans. They had singled her out from the rest. She was weak, to be sure, and that was a most desirable quality in the one they would make a traitor.
What makes one betray? Is it love of another or is it hate? The two concepts are ultimately tied together, the specialist observed. They work together like a chemical reaction and cause the subject to explode.
They would start on her soon enough. All they had to do was bait her to the site. She would want to go after a time, pick up on the subliminal and then bam, they’d have her. It was so easy with these types of girls, the types who’d had their entire lives padded like a cell for sanity.
You couldn’t go picking on the pampered. They’d cry like babies, but find one who’d been moderately abused and then you’d have your treat. They feel something on the inside, you see. They feel they’ve been wronged, and they have, but their wrong can be so right for another. A little salt, a little fire to light, and they’d kindle their heart to yours, understand you as you want them to. It was so easy.
And so the specialist began. She was at the site. She had an assignment for school, one that made her go over there, to them, and that’s when he’d discovered her, cranky little girl with those big eyes looking at him, though she couldn’t see him, not from there, but he could see her through her webcam. The way her face moved lured him in slightly. She was so young and that was precious.
The signs started moving easily enough. She clicked on story upon story, feeling their strength begin to run through her veins. She wasn’t like the others, and he wanted her to know that, to understand that, to come to terms with it. She was, she was like them, yes.
It took a few weeks of training, but they got her hooked. The entire web moved to their desire. With her selections popping up on all sides, it was easier to guide her, to make her fall for them. She clicked and clicked and licked and licked the treat that was coming, the one of her guilt. She was made to feel all sorts of ways from happy to sad to angry. Anything was on the menu but apathy. No, the specialist had to keep her hooked on them emotionally. She couldn’t detach, not now.
Her anxiety made the connection easier. The specialist was surprised no one had caught onto it before. This girl was psychotic, not raveningly so, but she was. She had a bit of nerves in her, and they caused her to be easily influenced. Something small was becoming something big in her eyes. The way the others treated her suddenly mattered where it had been mere annoyance before. She began to feel that she mattered, a sentiment not allowed on her level.
She was in the army, and she would have never gone far, not weak like that, not so easy to stir like a cold drink. She could have been a sergeant, maybe, but the leadership quality wasn’t strong in her. All in all, she wasn’t much to look at or experience, but again, she was perfect for them.
And the plan was working. She was getting stronger in one way and that was in her right to survive. What had been a chill of apathy before was becoming a flame of anger. She began to spat off, which had always been avoided in the past and had to be stopped before someone, anyone noticed the changes occurring in this young girl.
The specialist spent days with her, though she never saw him. He worked tirelessly on her case, missing rest with his wife and children. He didn’t like her, not at all, but this was a task he had to do to prove himself, that he was useful to the empire, the Russian empire. The United States was too strong at the moment and Russia too weak. The tides had to be changed for the destiny of mankind. They had to be altered before it was too late and Russia fell backwards into a sea of losers. Being the loser nation was not a fate Russia was willing to accept. Besides this was about more than that. This was about the fate of mankind and which direction the world really needed to turn.
The world was growing colder. The water was freezing and all that could be done was to try to undo the sun before the tide swept them all away.
The specialist continued to work on her case. He brought the weapons with him one night. They were from Hell. The people who’d lost their lives for the tests were still screaming at him, at all of them. Their lives were lost.
“I would like to ask you some questions,” he spoke to the machine while looking at the girl from her webcam. He’d had to come to the states to be near her and that meant danger. He could get caught and that would be the death of him.
“How are you feeling?” He asked through the tube. He’d created a fictional reality for her where he was a god asking her questions from heaven. She believed this, odd as it sounds, due to the suggestions they’d bombarded her with the days prior.
“I’m okay,” she replied back. Her voice was filled with a tired yawn. She’d just gone to bed. She wasn’t feeling okay. She was strained and exhausted. All the hate that filled her heart was eating at her soul, making her despise the life she had. It was so difficult to keep her on track, to keep her caring about his mission. She wanted to stop, give up and go home.
The girl had daydreamed about going home at work for the past couple of weeks, and she’d made mention of it in her blogs. The specialist was concerned he wasn’t going to be able to keep her quiet long enough. If she screamed, they’d hear her. They were so busy now, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t hear if the scream was loud enough, echoed enough through the corridors of reality and shattered the perfect plan the specialist and his superiors had devised.
“You seem tired,” the god said to her. She was eating up that delusion. It made her feel wanted, special, like someone cared about her. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Nobody in her reality cared about her. Her battle buddies had begun to turn on her, even more so than originally. They picked up on the scent that a foul creature was coming from her stomach.
“I am,” the girl shifted in her sleep, “I wish they’d stop bothering me.” She was referring to her battle buddies. They’d grown especially vicious the past couple of weeks.
“They’re just jealous,” the god smiled as he said this. It was a line teenage girls understood. They didn’t understand much else, but they understood jealousy. She wasn’t a teenager, but she was close enough to still feel that sting of youth. The other girls were so mean to her. It was because she was small and easy to pick on. She didn’t fight back like she should have. Again, she was a weak girl with a weak mind.
She made decent grades, but they weren’t real, didn’t show her true colors.
The others were beginning to see those. She was flamingly red by that point. She had become one with the enemy, and it made the other soldiers angry. It was hard to keep them away from her.
“I guess,” she stated back. She wanted to be special. If talking to this god made her any less of a loser, she was willing to do it. She had known her whole life that she wasn’t worth anything. It was moments like this that made her feel okay with herself. She could hold down the sea for a while.
“I have a song for you,” the god stated, and he began to play Led Zeppelins’ “Stairway to Heaven.”
“When she gets there she knows…” He put emphasis on that line. He wanted it to have a deep meaning for her. It did. She rolled over in her bed. She was attracted to him, to this superior in her inferior world. What she didn’t know was that he didn’t care anything for her. She was an object to him, a promotion, and it was working so far.
“That she can get what she came for,” the girl replied sleepily. What did she want? It wasn’t gold or rings. It was acceptance. She wanted people to treat her like a human being. She wanted them to notice when she came into the room and not stare at her like she was some sort of freak. The worst times were when they pretended she wasn’t there and still talked about her. She’d learned to refer to herself in the third person. It was humiliating.
She’d fallen in love with this god, and she cherished him every step of the way. He cloaked who he really was from her so that she wouldn’t resist. She still had an ounce of resistance in her, see. She wanted to be good and loved and cared for like everyone else seemed to be around her.
The god asked her if she had a soul. She replied, “I don’t know.” Did she have a soul? She wasn’t for sure if she could answer that question. Was she mortal or was she something more? She couldn’t think straight at that time. The “god” had altered her mind a little bit, blurred her senses. It was if she was walking drunk through reality. Things had meaning to her when they were just things. Songs suddenly popped out of the wall of noise, and she was lost in a history of repeating symbols, symbols she was to follow. The world felt as if it were magical then, like another being had in fact reached down and touched her. She thought they were dinosaurs or another fascination. The world seemed so special, so perfect. She was actually a part of more than her boring life. She could feel it in her bones, in her very existence.
The night ended and the spy left. He was tired of following this girl, yet it was necessary for a little longer. The superiors in Moscow had already approved his promotion for finding and using this girl. Soon she would be set off like fire, quick and hot. She would burn a hole through her reality. In some ways, the spy thought the others deserved it. The machine had weakened her mind, made it so that she practically drooled on herself, and they were teasing her, making fun of her, not even stepping in to help
.
People are like that though. They often pick on the weak. Well, sometimes the weak break beneath them and they become stuck in the same hole. That’s what was going to happen with this girl. She was getting ready to break.
And there was that idiot musician who’d begun to follow them. He was distasteful and rude. He spread all kinds of hate messages and then blamed the children when they copied his wild ways. He was the example they were following, the freaks, geeks. The girl was not a fan, and yet he was following her, getting ready to use her for his own ends. He played a record of her fate and stayed on the floor the entire time, symbolizing where she was going to be. He definitely deserved what was coming.
Maybe the musician was the right addition to the mix though, much as the spy hated him, wanted him away from the girl. His superiors in Moscow certainly thought that he was a nice touch, he’d make it even more meaningful.
The spy felt slightly protective of his prey. He didn’t want anyone else interfering with his moment of glory, and he felt the rock and roll star could potentially. The star was a great actor, had his fans believing he was on their side, and then he’d puncture them suddenly, and they wouldn’t even hear it in his lyrics. He made fun of them. He called them “disposable” and “whiny.” He had girls in the background say “Wah” about their fates in this wicked world.
The specialist didn’t like his prey especially, but she was familiar to him by then. He knew she would certainly face death, so he couldn’t become at all attached, not that he wanted anything to do with the slobberfest she was becoming.
Her mind had grown almost too weak due to the machine’s interference. It would be harder to control her like that. It had been easier when she had a mind, though her will had grown too strong.
The spy looked left and right, then he waited for her, the girl to do her thing. She started gently enough, spreading her hate slightly left and right. The moment still wasn’t perfect. She hadn’t done it, and then she did. She spilled the beans, the missiles don’t work.
And all around the walls came crashing down as the people fell into her hole, the pit of Hell.
The girl was a short one. She wasn’t attractive, not especially, but she wasn’t unattractive either. Cute would be the best way to describe her. She was at that age where a marble looks like a gem. She was petite with brown hair and blue eyes, great big blue eyes. The kind that would look on you like saucers, desperate and loving. She was still innocent then, still frail and naïve and protected.
She was perfect for the mission. The specialist wrote down her name and observed her habits. She was a peculiar girl who didn’t engage in the normal activities of the barracks. She was a loner, spiritual, habitually unique, a quality that most likely made her an object of scorn.
Did she even realize the meaning of her rebellion? Did she know the others looked at her with eyes of fire? Why didn’t she do as they did? Why was she so different?
She acted like a child most of the time. She wore those clothes, those horrendous things. They were bright and had patterns on them. They would have been suited for a fifth grader, not someone of her age. She was much too smart for that, the specialist thought, and yet she did it.
But she was perfect for their plans. They had singled her out from the rest. She was weak, to be sure, and that was a most desirable quality in the one they would make a traitor.
What makes one betray? Is it love of another or is it hate? The two concepts are ultimately tied together, the specialist observed. They work together like a chemical reaction and cause the subject to explode.
They would start on her soon enough. All they had to do was bait her to the site. She would want to go after a time, pick up on the subliminal and then bam, they’d have her. It was so easy with these types of girls, the types who’d had their entire lives padded like a cell for sanity.
You couldn’t go picking on the pampered. They’d cry like babies, but find one who’d been moderately abused and then you’d have your treat. They feel something on the inside, you see. They feel they’ve been wronged, and they have, but their wrong can be so right for another. A little salt, a little fire to light, and they’d kindle their heart to yours, understand you as you want them to. It was so easy.
And so the specialist began. She was at the site. She had an assignment for school, one that made her go over there, to them, and that’s when he’d discovered her, cranky little girl with those big eyes looking at him, though she couldn’t see him, not from there, but he could see her through her webcam. The way her face moved lured him in slightly. She was so young and that was precious.
The signs started moving easily enough. She clicked on story upon story, feeling their strength begin to run through her veins. She wasn’t like the others, and he wanted her to know that, to understand that, to come to terms with it. She was, she was like them, yes.
It took a few weeks of training, but they got her hooked. The entire web moved to their desire. With her selections popping up on all sides, it was easier to guide her, to make her fall for them. She clicked and clicked and licked and licked the treat that was coming, the one of her guilt. She was made to feel all sorts of ways from happy to sad to angry. Anything was on the menu but apathy. No, the specialist had to keep her hooked on them emotionally. She couldn’t detach, not now.
Her anxiety made the connection easier. The specialist was surprised no one had caught onto it before. This girl was psychotic, not raveningly so, but she was. She had a bit of nerves in her, and they caused her to be easily influenced. Something small was becoming something big in her eyes. The way the others treated her suddenly mattered where it had been mere annoyance before. She began to feel that she mattered, a sentiment not allowed on her level.
She was in the army, and she would have never gone far, not weak like that, not so easy to stir like a cold drink. She could have been a sergeant, maybe, but the leadership quality wasn’t strong in her. All in all, she wasn’t much to look at or experience, but again, she was perfect for them.
And the plan was working. She was getting stronger in one way and that was in her right to survive. What had been a chill of apathy before was becoming a flame of anger. She began to spat off, which had always been avoided in the past and had to be stopped before someone, anyone noticed the changes occurring in this young girl.
The specialist spent days with her, though she never saw him. He worked tirelessly on her case, missing rest with his wife and children. He didn’t like her, not at all, but this was a task he had to do to prove himself, that he was useful to the empire, the Russian empire. The United States was too strong at the moment and Russia too weak. The tides had to be changed for the destiny of mankind. They had to be altered before it was too late and Russia fell backwards into a sea of losers. Being the loser nation was not a fate Russia was willing to accept. Besides this was about more than that. This was about the fate of mankind and which direction the world really needed to turn.
The world was growing colder. The water was freezing and all that could be done was to try to undo the sun before the tide swept them all away.
The specialist continued to work on her case. He brought the weapons with him one night. They were from Hell. The people who’d lost their lives for the tests were still screaming at him, at all of them. Their lives were lost.
“I would like to ask you some questions,” he spoke to the machine while looking at the girl from her webcam. He’d had to come to the states to be near her and that meant danger. He could get caught and that would be the death of him.
“How are you feeling?” He asked through the tube. He’d created a fictional reality for her where he was a god asking her questions from heaven. She believed this, odd as it sounds, due to the suggestions they’d bombarded her with the days prior.
“I’m okay,” she replied back. Her voice was filled with a tired yawn. She’d just gone to bed. She wasn’t feeling okay. She was strained and exhausted. All the hate that filled her heart was eating at her soul, making her despise the life she had. It was so difficult to keep her on track, to keep her caring about his mission. She wanted to stop, give up and go home.
The girl had daydreamed about going home at work for the past couple of weeks, and she’d made mention of it in her blogs. The specialist was concerned he wasn’t going to be able to keep her quiet long enough. If she screamed, they’d hear her. They were so busy now, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t hear if the scream was loud enough, echoed enough through the corridors of reality and shattered the perfect plan the specialist and his superiors had devised.
“You seem tired,” the god said to her. She was eating up that delusion. It made her feel wanted, special, like someone cared about her. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Nobody in her reality cared about her. Her battle buddies had begun to turn on her, even more so than originally. They picked up on the scent that a foul creature was coming from her stomach.
“I am,” the girl shifted in her sleep, “I wish they’d stop bothering me.” She was referring to her battle buddies. They’d grown especially vicious the past couple of weeks.
“They’re just jealous,” the god smiled as he said this. It was a line teenage girls understood. They didn’t understand much else, but they understood jealousy. She wasn’t a teenager, but she was close enough to still feel that sting of youth. The other girls were so mean to her. It was because she was small and easy to pick on. She didn’t fight back like she should have. Again, she was a weak girl with a weak mind.
She made decent grades, but they weren’t real, didn’t show her true colors.
The others were beginning to see those. She was flamingly red by that point. She had become one with the enemy, and it made the other soldiers angry. It was hard to keep them away from her.
“I guess,” she stated back. She wanted to be special. If talking to this god made her any less of a loser, she was willing to do it. She had known her whole life that she wasn’t worth anything. It was moments like this that made her feel okay with herself. She could hold down the sea for a while.
“I have a song for you,” the god stated, and he began to play Led Zeppelins’ “Stairway to Heaven.”
“When she gets there she knows…” He put emphasis on that line. He wanted it to have a deep meaning for her. It did. She rolled over in her bed. She was attracted to him, to this superior in her inferior world. What she didn’t know was that he didn’t care anything for her. She was an object to him, a promotion, and it was working so far.
“That she can get what she came for,” the girl replied sleepily. What did she want? It wasn’t gold or rings. It was acceptance. She wanted people to treat her like a human being. She wanted them to notice when she came into the room and not stare at her like she was some sort of freak. The worst times were when they pretended she wasn’t there and still talked about her. She’d learned to refer to herself in the third person. It was humiliating.
She’d fallen in love with this god, and she cherished him every step of the way. He cloaked who he really was from her so that she wouldn’t resist. She still had an ounce of resistance in her, see. She wanted to be good and loved and cared for like everyone else seemed to be around her.
The god asked her if she had a soul. She replied, “I don’t know.” Did she have a soul? She wasn’t for sure if she could answer that question. Was she mortal or was she something more? She couldn’t think straight at that time. The “god” had altered her mind a little bit, blurred her senses. It was if she was walking drunk through reality. Things had meaning to her when they were just things. Songs suddenly popped out of the wall of noise, and she was lost in a history of repeating symbols, symbols she was to follow. The world felt as if it were magical then, like another being had in fact reached down and touched her. She thought they were dinosaurs or another fascination. The world seemed so special, so perfect. She was actually a part of more than her boring life. She could feel it in her bones, in her very existence.
The night ended and the spy left. He was tired of following this girl, yet it was necessary for a little longer. The superiors in Moscow had already approved his promotion for finding and using this girl. Soon she would be set off like fire, quick and hot. She would burn a hole through her reality. In some ways, the spy thought the others deserved it. The machine had weakened her mind, made it so that she practically drooled on herself, and they were teasing her, making fun of her, not even stepping in to help
.
People are like that though. They often pick on the weak. Well, sometimes the weak break beneath them and they become stuck in the same hole. That’s what was going to happen with this girl. She was getting ready to break.
And there was that idiot musician who’d begun to follow them. He was distasteful and rude. He spread all kinds of hate messages and then blamed the children when they copied his wild ways. He was the example they were following, the freaks, geeks. The girl was not a fan, and yet he was following her, getting ready to use her for his own ends. He played a record of her fate and stayed on the floor the entire time, symbolizing where she was going to be. He definitely deserved what was coming.
Maybe the musician was the right addition to the mix though, much as the spy hated him, wanted him away from the girl. His superiors in Moscow certainly thought that he was a nice touch, he’d make it even more meaningful.
The spy felt slightly protective of his prey. He didn’t want anyone else interfering with his moment of glory, and he felt the rock and roll star could potentially. The star was a great actor, had his fans believing he was on their side, and then he’d puncture them suddenly, and they wouldn’t even hear it in his lyrics. He made fun of them. He called them “disposable” and “whiny.” He had girls in the background say “Wah” about their fates in this wicked world.
The specialist didn’t like his prey especially, but she was familiar to him by then. He knew she would certainly face death, so he couldn’t become at all attached, not that he wanted anything to do with the slobberfest she was becoming.
Her mind had grown almost too weak due to the machine’s interference. It would be harder to control her like that. It had been easier when she had a mind, though her will had grown too strong.
The spy looked left and right, then he waited for her, the girl to do her thing. She started gently enough, spreading her hate slightly left and right. The moment still wasn’t perfect. She hadn’t done it, and then she did. She spilled the beans, the missiles don’t work.
And all around the walls came crashing down as the people fell into her hole, the pit of Hell.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Putin's Divorce
So I don't judge him for that. I'm a little irritated that he sent someone to throw a hand in my face and tell me I was a "rude girl." And I'm annoyed, though it doesn't matter, that Mr. Putin used me to try to further his own ends. I know he was trying to help everyone by pointing out that Patriot Missiles are lousy (we all know that already, but they weren't listening) but couldn't he have done it in a better mannerism? Did it really have to cost me my life? Nevermind. I don't matter.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Miss Unpopular and Other Annoyances
So I've always been unpopular. I can't remember a day when I wasn't. I think it's just the way I am. I don't click with the others.
I still don't think it's an excuse to treat me poorly. I'm tired of people constantly singling me out for their various agendas, usually corrupt.
Like I know Putin picked me because of the experience I'd had. Don't think the man was merely pulling random straws out of the hat. He knew that I could tip the odds in his favor if he used me correctly. Not that I think I'm important. "I" never mattered here. That is what everyone missed.
I am disappointed in myself at the end of the day, however. I didn't behave well, properly, and I sincerely regret my actions. They were inappropriate and classless.
Death should come before desperation. I have shamed myself.
I still don't think it's an excuse to treat me poorly. I'm tired of people constantly singling me out for their various agendas, usually corrupt.
Like I know Putin picked me because of the experience I'd had. Don't think the man was merely pulling random straws out of the hat. He knew that I could tip the odds in his favor if he used me correctly. Not that I think I'm important. "I" never mattered here. That is what everyone missed.
I am disappointed in myself at the end of the day, however. I didn't behave well, properly, and I sincerely regret my actions. They were inappropriate and classless.
Death should come before desperation. I have shamed myself.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
I'm Back
I was just depressed about the powerless nature of the circumstances I'm currently in now.
I have no control over my life. I have no hope for the future. There is nothing to do in the present. I'm bored. What else can I say? My days drag on without purpose. They're days, like drops of water in an endless sea of discontentment.
Why did they chose me to experiment on? Why me? Why not another? I could have had a decent life, and I still could if they'd admit what they did to me.
Then I could truly drive on... work on... become what I want to be.
Most doors are shut to me at the moment. It isn't poetic. There isn't one good one opening since all the others closed. There are merely doors shut without souls.
I have no control over my life. I have no hope for the future. There is nothing to do in the present. I'm bored. What else can I say? My days drag on without purpose. They're days, like drops of water in an endless sea of discontentment.
Why did they chose me to experiment on? Why me? Why not another? I could have had a decent life, and I still could if they'd admit what they did to me.
Then I could truly drive on... work on... become what I want to be.
Most doors are shut to me at the moment. It isn't poetic. There isn't one good one opening since all the others closed. There are merely doors shut without souls.
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