thought for my first blog i'd share some poetry....
Flickering TV Screens and Shining Blades Oct 16, '09 10:20 AM
Im sitting in a room
Filled from floor to ceiling
With monitors and TVs
All playing at once
Like some sort of torture system
Derived to scatter the mind
Preparing it for destruction
Stretching is focus and power so thin
That soon it will snap
And yetas I wait
Ever patiently for the death of my mind
For that final straw
Then I remember what that crazy old man used to say
Something about, the first straw, not the last.\
Well its to late for that
The first straw has come and gone, ages ago
But there is still time to escape
I look to my side
Searching for my sword
It has been hidden from me
By me
I search and search
Then I remember
And so I sit back down
And reach my hand deep inside
Kind of down my throat
Kind of through my chest
Kind of no where at all
Instantaneously I feel its hilt
At the tip of my fingers
Just beyond my reach
So I still myself even more
And stretch out my hand a little more
And I take it
And pull it out
Only to find
That is has become
Nothing more than a rusted old bar of iron
It crumbled in my hands
Again I remember
The analogies to sword forging
And mind forging
And I suddenly am standing in a smiths workshop
And the screens that haunt me
Are crumbling, revealing the metals and acids
They are made off
The materials are here
The tools have been given to me
All that is left
Is to collect them
Without falling prey once again to my distraction
And then
To forge the weapon
And strike me down
if you liked that check of my multiply page @ http://sunya13.multiply.com/
Flickering TV Screens and Shining Blades Oct 16, '09 10:20 AM
Im sitting in a room
Filled from floor to ceiling
With monitors and TVs
All playing at once
Like some sort of torture system
Derived to scatter the mind
Preparing it for destruction
Stretching is focus and power so thin
That soon it will snap
And yetas I wait
Ever patiently for the death of my mind
For that final straw
Then I remember what that crazy old man used to say
Something about, the first straw, not the last.\
Well its to late for that
The first straw has come and gone, ages ago
But there is still time to escape
I look to my side
Searching for my sword
It has been hidden from me
By me
I search and search
Then I remember
And so I sit back down
And reach my hand deep inside
Kind of down my throat
Kind of through my chest
Kind of no where at all
Instantaneously I feel its hilt
At the tip of my fingers
Just beyond my reach
So I still myself even more
And stretch out my hand a little more
And I take it
And pull it out
Only to find
That is has become
Nothing more than a rusted old bar of iron
It crumbled in my hands
Again I remember
The analogies to sword forging
And mind forging
And I suddenly am standing in a smiths workshop
And the screens that haunt me
Are crumbling, revealing the metals and acids
They are made off
The materials are here
The tools have been given to me
All that is left
Is to collect them
Without falling prey once again to my distraction
And then
To forge the weapon
And strike me down
if you liked that check of my multiply page @ http://sunya13.multiply.com/
diaz:
Its funny, my mates and I have been joking about Boobix cube since I shot the set