Chaos::Beauty

The Space To Run

2012-01-31T23:45:00.003-05:00

I don't think this blog format works very well for longer pieces, so here is The Space To Run on my dA account.

Trying Too Hard To Be Immortal

2012-01-23T00:28:00.001-05:00

Another one from 2011 that I finished recently.

Trying Too Hard To Be Immortal

I whispered to the world

And said my secrets safe with you

Closed my eyes and turned

A golden key

Laid down to rest

But somehow

The earth had found

A way to be untrue

My secrets never mattered

To a mother cold as you

And no matter how I wished

Beneath stars or sinking moon

Not an answer

Just a promise

Of an ending coming soon

So I wandered through a thousand lives

And lived them one by one

Closed my eyes

They slipped away

I forgot where I'd begun

The Road Is Moving

2012-01-06T18:18:00.002-05:00

Don't let life beat you into thinking there are rules you have to follow. You get one life - this is it. If you really want something, don't give up; fight for it, take it.

I turn around

But nothing's there

We're running so fast

We forget where

I've gone so far in this lifeline

I need a new life

But where to start from?

We've been here so long

After awhile

We forget the beauty

Of the moment, the unknown

It's burning right through me

I gave you time

Time didn't care

Now who's waiting

Who's around the corner?

We're so far past a dead end

Feels like a start to forever

Where am I going?

The road is moving

After awhile

We forget the beauty

Of the moment, the unknown

It's burning right through me

Boldly

2012-01-02T00:01:00.003-05:00

Going through the past 6 months of random stuff.

Boldly

As the moon rose

As the trees spoke

Swaying smoothly as the heart

With a beat that is red

and delicious

With fire coursing

and melting

Its way through time

Our fire, we felt

We cried that it belonged to us

But time and fire

Never knew our names

Our precious youth

and hidden games

That vanish, untraced

Yet we lay, boldly

Beneath the stars

Surrounded by emptiness

and beauty

For a moment

Boundaries

2011-12-27T01:26:00.005-05:00

Its been far, far too long since I've posted here. Thanks for reading. This one's for those who love, who hate, whose fantasies can and will never be reality.

Boundaries

Hands and fingers feeling down

Cross the boundaries I laid

Sparks shatter my soundless world

Fulfill the wish I should have made

I want to feel like this forever

Lost in your loud world, all color

Dreaming through a lonely vessel

Living just to touch each other

Watch the dark hide your desires

Wrap yourself in reds and yellows

Lay yourself across my threshold

Forget the world and all its troubles

But time was slow and we were fast

Our fears rained down to drown our flames

We passed the day, refused the night

I thought of you and laughed and cried

All that's left this thread of words

It's strong enough to pull you in

Or tie me up, make you a prison

I watch your mouth, it cuts my hands

Inception and Vanishing Complexity

2010-07-28T13:27:00.005-04:00

Recently everyone has been going crazy over Chris Nolan's new supposed masterpiece Inception. I saw the movie last week and I must say it was very well done, however I do not think it is nearly as original and brilliant as some enthusiastic reviewers say. The story was actually quite simple and nowhere near as complex and far-reaching as something like The Matrix or Fight Club. The appeal is very personal and psychological, as is Chris Nolan's style, but I digress. The reason I believe there is such praise for this movie is quite simple. People want to be made to think. This is what Nolan's popularity really conveys to me, as this is a thought-provoking movie, but not extremely so. I think that, at least at some level, people are just so sick of being presented with simplistic action or romance that is completely transparent. This has been the case over and over again in the past few years. There is a trend toward less thought-provoking movies. Last year saw a couple sci-fi gems come out in the form of District 9 and Moon. This year Inception is the only movie I have been willing to see in theaters. This trend towards less complex and unique movie plots really makes me wonder if people actually do want less thinking and more visceral stimuli as entertainment. Then I look at the popularity of "reality" television and know it must be true. A wise man did once say that people would rather be content to live in ignorance and stupidity than go through the labor of gaining more knowledge. Is this contentedness positive or negative? A small part of me wants to have sympathy for those who wish this kind of contentment, but I know if everyone was content to remain ignorant our country and our civilization would not have gotten very far in the first place.

Atlas Shrugged

2010-03-05T11:43:00.002-05:00

It's really amazing what people think they deserve. I was just talking about this with my dad the other day. There has become such a sense of entitlement in this country it's disgusting. Many people think they deserve all the latest and greatest shit just because they're alive and in the United States. Yes, you can achieve great things, but you know what? You have to earn them. Many people expect to be handed everything these days, not the least of which is massive amounts of credit. The idiot who takes out a loan for a car he can't afford and can't pay back. These are the new poor people who have it all, including tens or hundreds of thousands in debt. Who has to come up with that money? Apparently you and I, the people who pay taxes, do. With the government handing out bailout money left and right the vultures (looters) swoop in. There was a book written about this type of thing, it's called Atlas Shrugged. This is how it starts.

Time will cut you down

2009-08-28T15:21:00.000-04:00

You know the thing about writing is it's tough. Inspiration isn't real hard for me, but doing the actual writing, putting the words together, that's the hard part. Over the past 5 years or so I've written some pretty varied material from sci-fi and fantasy to transgressive type fiction and even political articles.

The main thing is time.

Time to just sit and think about what I want to say, how to turn an idea that may or may not have any worth into something readable. I think this is the most prevalent problem facing me as a writer, but I think our society makes time difficult. Everything has become so constant now, constant updates, constant stimulation, that it becomes difficult to break off and actually get things accomplished that take more than a few minutes. Reading books, actually sitting down and listening to music, just walking around and letting silence fill the void of existence.

A certain place I lived at college had a shuttle bus that took me to campus every day. The ride was about 15 minutes or so, but it was usually 15 minutes in which I could just sit back and listen to music without being bothered by anything else (except of course the occasional really annoying girl that felt it necessary to pour out her problems to the bus driver, who I felt very sorry for). I actually looked forward to this time to myself. I was waiting to get somewhere, but at the same time it didn't matter to me because I had my music and my thoughts and that was more important than where the bus was going.

Similarly, if I want to write I find that I am forced to have a time of nothing but writing and thinking. Sitting down with a notebook, a pen, and a beer. In this day and age that can be difficult, but it isn't a lost cause.

War For Wrong Morality

2008-09-01T09:40:00.000-04:00

Scold incestuous demons ten
Given armies great and then
Pose as naked desired flesh
Their minds never desired less

Golden signs from seven seals
Grinding down the war machine wheels
Sold to taskmaster's ugly hand
And sent to labor in the land

The Rush Of Stones

2008-07-22T21:24:00.000-04:00

This is basically some random crap I wrote down last night that turned into lyrics of some kind, I really have no idea.

Things are moving
Too fast for the eyes to see
They spin around me
In a blaze of purple wings

You say they saved you
When life was a precious thing
Well I got lost
Found a way outside this maze

The turntable slows
The music knows
How to kill my darkest deeds

The music stops
The future drops
In the pool of darkest needs

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Spring Uprising

2008-07-15T00:26:00.000-04:00

This is a short horror story I wrote a few weeks ago. I already posted it on DeviantArt but I figured I'd put it on here too. Hope you enjoy it, any comments/suggestions are always welcome.

          Every afternoon Shiram Nofason mowed his backyard. It wasn’t a large yard, even though Shiram owned acres of fields that could have been mowed. Unfortunately he was old and no longer had the strength or the will to mow those green fields. But Shiram did not despair. Instead his yard consisted of less than an acre of soft green grass, with a large pine tree in the middle. It sat secluded with trees on all sides, the shadows deep and soft.
          Shiram used an old John Deere push mower to cut his grass every day. He had done this every day for twenty years. Some people might find it strange and a bit obsessive to mow their lawn every day, but to Shiram it was an irreplaceable part of his daily existence.
          This particular afternoon was in late May, a beautiful and bright spring day. The light wind was rustling all the leaves and making the branches of Shiram’s enormous pine sway as if in a trance, a lazy spring trance. Shiram looked out over his small yard. What he saw surprised him. It seemed that overnight the grass had been overrun by large, bright yellow dandelions. He frowned and then smiled. Today’s cutting would be even better. He pushed the green and yellow mower from his small garage to the edge of the grass and pulled out the choke reverently. He took the worn pull string in his fist and pulled the cord calmly yet strongly in one continuous motion. As always, the little mower began its rough hum immediately.
          Shiram pushed out onto the grass. He walked slowly, allowing the old blades to do their work. In a few meters he came to a dense patch of dandelions and smiled as he began to push even more slowly over them. Shiram thought he could hear them screaming as the chute on the side of the mower began to spit out their yellow heads. Humming along to the rhythm of the mower, he continued in a straight line down the edge of the yard, walking through the shade of the pine tree and rounding the first corner. He would continue in this manner, the square of uncut grass in the center becoming smaller and smaller as he went.
          On his third time around the square, Shiram noticed something about the dandelions. They were changing. The yellow heads closed and then opened to reveal fluffy white heads of seeds. The wind picked off pieces of this soft fluff and blew it around the yard and elsewhere.
          "Spreading their seed!" Shiram muttered to himself and began to pick up his pace. The small yard was only half-mowed as the white stuff began to slowly blow about. As Shiram began to walk faster, the wind picked up. What had been a gentle zephyr earlier turned into a blustery breeze. Growling under his breath, Shiram moved forward as bits of fluff blew by him. Pieces of it hit his clothes and stuck. He got to the tree and began mowing in a circle around it, then turned and went straight into the middle of the yard where the largest crowds of the yellow flowers remained. Now the wind was a full gale. A cloud of white seed flew at him. Shiram put his hands up to block it, but pieces got by and flew in his mouth and eyes. He let go off the mower and rubbed his hands over his face to get the stuff off, but to no avail. It was too silky and difficult to grasp.
          Shiram started to cough. The wind blew all around him as he tried to bat the downy white scourge away. More and more of the dandelions closed their yellow heads and then exploded in small white bursts. Shiram fell to his knees as the white swarmed towards him, on him, over him. He began to choke, his throat clogged with silk. The seeds were covering him; they were alive! He felt pain in his right arm, which he had been using to shield his face. He reached and pulled out a seed, red with his blood. Shiram opened his mouth to scream, but all that came out was a choked cough that sounded like rotten fleece being forcing through his windpipe.
          Shiram fell prostrate to the ground, still waving his arms like a windmill gone mad. The wind howled around him and the pine tree shook its great arms in anguish. The seeds fully covered the old man now, his outline white and stark against the green grass, and they began to burrow into him, germinating themselves in his warmth. Shiram writhed one last time and then lay still. Dark green dandelion leaves sprouted out of him, unfurling themselves in the wind. Light green stems rose quickly into the air and finally, in perfect unison, a thousand yellow heads popped open in the light. The wind immediately stilled back to a gentle breeze. The pine tree relaxed and began its spring trance again. Dandelion heads looked at one another and smiled.

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Red Mars and Cyberpunk

2008-07-08T17:12:00.000-04:00

I recently finished reading Red Mars, the first book of Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars trilogy and let me tell you, it's pretty damn good. The reason I wanted to get this book is really because I've become very interested in cyberpunk literature. About a year or so ago I was fortunate enough to see Rudy Rucker, author of some well-known sci-fi books such as White Light and the Ware tetralogy, give a lecture at RIT and he really got me thinking more about writing, science fiction, technology, and the world around us. I had never heard of Rucker before but I heard he was a great writer, so I had to go. He was not lecturing specifically on the topic of cyberpunk, but rather his computer science ideas of interpreting the world as deterministic equations, however he did mention his writing and that it was considered cyberpunk. Overall the lecture was very interesting and I left with a lot to think about. Afterwards I began looking up some things about cyberpunk online, what it is, what writers are involved, etc. I am a huge fan of dystopian/utopian stories so this sounded right up my alley. I obtained a copy of Red Mars as soon as I could and prepared from some great adventures. And at first I was confused. This book was supposed to be cyberpunk but the first half of it or so is mostly about scientists colonizing Mars. Not that this was boring, the way Robinson writes is very personal and gets right into the characters' heads which makes for some intense reading, but it wasn't what I expected. However in the second half when politics and violence start coming into play on the newly colonized planet, I began to understand why it is considered cyberpunk: you've got a revolution taking place on a very inhospitable planet and led by scientists who can create things such as extremely potent pharmaceutical drugs and longevity treatments. Another thing that struck me in this book is the attention that was paid to scientific and geographic details, especially the ones referring to the terraforming and colonization of Mars. I cannot wait to read the second book; this is science fiction at its best.

Telling a Story

2008-07-05T01:26:00.000-04:00

In the beginning
I couldn't argue

So they went ahead
Unheeding

A hush fell over everything
Hunger took hold

It took forever
But things changed

I was a bit terrified
For the first time

Maybe not the first time
But it was hard

Fireflies in the fields
It was so wild

I remember now
As we go on I remember more

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Another

2008-06-24T00:44:00.000-04:00

When they burned their bodies
On the split-end rug
Another firescape to call their own

In the after-midnight
Water slip streaking
Another time in heaven's home of heart

Mornings spun of gold
Gone with a darkness
Another stage of fever deep in love

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Chaotic Progression

2008-06-19T17:24:00.000-04:00

Still feeling the chaos
The push and pull of mind
Still reeling, still feeling
Everything, processing

A long road to greatness again
Struggle to recover, adapt
Give me pain and silence
I'll forge a new island

Heathen Birth

2008-06-18T23:52:00.000-04:00

The pagans come awake
And sweep the dust aside
It took so long to take
Time’s most lonely ride

Dryad stares from a tree
Deity of nature
Stone altar of the free
I am something pure

EnTrance

2008-06-18T21:43:00.000-04:00

And so I have decided to start a blog of my creative writing efforts. Why? Just as a way to get my work out there really. Most of what I post here will consist of my poetry and prose, and perhaps my opinions on various literary and artistic things. Please feel free to critique my work. Enjoy the chaos.