segunda-feira, 30 de novembro de 2009

Reverse guns

It was already past midnight. In fact, way past midnight, around 4 a.m.
The boy was playing with one of those plastic toys you get in cereal boxes. Though most of them suck to no end, sometimes we are given these marvelous toys that can entertain us for hours, though their operation is beyond simple. Perhaps that explains why most people wouldn't even be entertained by any of them.
The toy consisted of two parts. An orange projectile with a rocket shape and a... base for it. The base was basically a stick you inserted in a hole inside the rocket, the spring inside the hole would then allow the rocket to fly away once you triggered the stick. It's strange how dumbly simple mechanics get complicated when explained by some people. Ain't it?
The boy was there, challenging himself, he should catch the rocket shot at his hand. Most of the times he failed as it was quite fast. One of those amazing things you get to do once you get into dawn and you shouldn't be awake but you can't sleep.
He used around 15 minutes doing it. Until he got bored and stopped playing with it. He stood there, holding the toy by the projectile part. And, due to some strange force that happens to operate during these strange times, the toy got triggered. The base for the rocket was sent flying away. Perhaps faster and farther than the projectile went in the original functioning of the toy. He stood there, trying to understand what had just happened, he didn't trigger the base, he barely touched it.


I swear man, he threw the damn rocket launcher at us!
Cut the crap!
We were ready to shoot once we saw he was putting the inside it, but then it came flying upon us without any sound of burst. Some even say they saw the rocket stopped there in the air as the weapon itself flew upon us!
Soldier, you need some rest.

That time of the year

Strange.
It seems like yesterday. Maybe I'm cursed to repeat this very same behaviour every year's end.
But indeed I'm tempted to follow the old known road and see if the path leads somewhere else. We'll try. Once again, there's too many things in my head and I guess I'll start writing them soon...
I know I know, I repeat the same patterns. Many things at head, ''will'' write later, can't sleep... and the list goes. Ad infinitum.
But we can make this road different. All we need is to act in a contrary way to what we did before. A birthday present. A frantic finale. The hunt for kindness. Back into saving. Being hatred. These are the 6 acts that are running this time. And maybe this time we have one satisfying result.
The tables are turned... once again.
I just hope by my merry snowy date I happen to know whether this time I made the difference. Hypocritical perhaps, but who gives a shit?
And... if one manages to keep his world in harmony with the real world... is his world still a private world or does it stop existing?
Stupid questions.
Everything will alright at the end.
Are you sure?

sexta-feira, 27 de novembro de 2009

Adornments

That's why we hang them on the walls. To wake up everyday and watch out trophies moaning and groaning, bleeding their last tears of life as we collect more and more of them.
Nail them right on their hands. Just two nails, one on each hand, the distance between each nail must be around the width of their arms wide open. This way we make it like those little paper cuts with man appearance, a long line of them, arms opened, blood flowing.
When they die, use them as adornments. Put them on the road, over the signs, hanged at the lamp posts, make scarecrows for the fields...
The ones who scream too much and disturb your sleep? Off with their tongues. You can leave it in their shoulders, or over their heads, or just dispose of it.
Grosser plays with them, I tell you not to play with your furniture. But, oh well, it's up to you. The thing is, it rots faster. Then you have more work finding more and preparing more. But it's really up to you. I prefer the old way, the old flesh screaming way. But Grosser prefers to tease them with death. To each his own.
You can use your creativity while furnishing your room. You can get some scalps to keep a count, sure, but you can also use their hair on your dolls. Sometimes they align their heads in a nice way after being scalped.
Oh, about that statue... it's Grosser's. He likes to use a jackhammer on some of them. He says the sound it makes when the drill passes the skull makes him relax. It's a really interesting sound, because it mixes a lot of things, the scream, the skull cracking, blood spurts. Grosser covered the woman he first used it with cement, and put her in that pose. Looks like some broken antique or maybe some piece of phylosophical art, he was really inspired that time. He is creative, that's not a doubt.
But don't think you won't be shining. Sooner you will get ideas and get them out of your mind, we believe you will. It's always just a matter of time. Just a matter of time.
One final question? Sure.
Hm... in case they run. Well, don't worry about it. We are not alone, most of our decorative material is hunted by others, few of these you can see up there crying were brought by ourselves. If they get to us, they are already not in their running capabilities. But, if, and I've yet to see it, they escape, then the real hunt begins. And they won't be getting human bodies to decorate their homes.

segunda-feira, 16 de novembro de 2009

Random and sleepless

I remember when my friend convinced me into starting this blog. I did it mostly to silence her.
Although I do like writing and all, I don't it that much and I don't, I don't know... it's like, I didn't want to do it because I couldn't see the point of writing in a public place like this for nobody to see it. But still, I would prefer to keep it private. So yeah, that's pretty dumb.
Then it started to be a deposit of weird stories, or at least the ones I managed to write.
And then a deposit of rants. But it just doesn't seem to fix things, raging against... a wall. Or maybe it fix, and I'm just made to remain on angry mode.
I don't even know why the hell am I writing this. But that's okay. I'm just, raging for nothing. It's like, asking for help without ask for help because you don't need help. That makes sense right? At least to me it seems to make. But lately I'm looking at my... logics, through a more pessimistic approach. Perhaps all my mental structures and ways of reasoning were made of sand and now the walls are coming down.
Or I'm just bored. Now THAT makes sense.
Have you ever watched Creepshow? It's nice. The whole feeling of it looks so amazing. Takes me back to those earlier years, where fear was something that could come from the television. No, Creepshow isn't scary. It's just that I feel so good with the ambience... I almost go to the point of wishing it was real. In fact, I went to this point straight away.
Well here I am, talking to the wall.
I guess it's better, since the people that would have been awake by now are probably like me, or even worse. But that's a thing I say without thinking very much since it's absurd.
Maybe not. But who knows?
And as always there's a lot of topics running through my mind, many of them I thought that would be nice to write something about here so I could try to make an opinion about it. But now it just look as relevant as talking about the weather.
I believe with every generation humanity reaches a new all-time low. Yeah, we're relentless diggers, and the well is bottomless.
Tragic thoughts, ain't it?
But also contraditory since I'm not all against humanity, I care for some people and I believe there are good people still roaming around. And I actually wish I was one of them. And maybe I am, maybe not. Another thing for the list of things I don't know.
The list goes on and on.
But I believe I can solve this situation this time without bothering people around. I know they won't like to read this last sentence, and in case they do, don't worry I'm handling things here and I'm not going to repeat the same implosive performance.
Maybe some day I get the car and go around through the night. I like to drive during these late hours, don't you?
This remember me of my thought about Maniac. I guess there just can't be an ultimate crazy weird killer guy movie. It's all about visions on the matter. But I like the one depicted at that movie. No, not like I like Creepshow, it just feels that it's as twisted as one's mind can be. Okay, not that much. But hey, it tries at least.
Perhaps I'm just hiding the dust under the carpet. But talking to my virtual wall takes some of the thoughts away. Until it awakes again.
And again.

And again...