Sunday, December 27

End of the World

Ok, so I know I have never posted before...but I honestly forgot about it, just had a million things going be gentle, please. I will try and write some more and actually post on here.

It’s not every day you wake up…

Never thought I’d be around to see it. You know? Only crazy people sit around thinking about the end.

I mean who sits at the breakfast table thinking “What if the world ended in a few hours? What would it be like?” And even if they did, they’d most definitely get it wrong. We had all these books, video games, all forms of media that talked about it…every one of them was wrong. We always thought the world would end in an explosion, a big bang to rival the one that birthed our universe. And of course, anarchy and chaos following it that made the explosion itself seem absolutely trivial.

And then it happened. Of course, there was some time to prepare…we were all ordered to evacuate, and the stubborn few who didn’t, well most of us had installed bomb shelters with generators and pumps. Most places the pumps weren’t necessary but here they are, since we are below sea level.

We also had things to detect when the radiation went away and enough stuff to survive in the bunker until everything had passed.

So on that fateful day I ran to my bunker.

“This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.”

—T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men"

Truthfully, the end is…quiet. When I emerged there was this…nothing, but it was everywhere. You never realize how much noise there is until the silence descends. And to know that this isn’t just a silence waiting on the edge of dawn to be broken, but the silence that will persist until our species is no more…turns the silence from a welcome friend to your deadliest enemy.

For what purpose was I spared? Surely whatever gods there are chose me for a reason. Not because I am a saint, for I did my fair share of bad things. But then why? As punishment? A living hell to be a precursor to the demon infested wasteland I shall go to on my death?

Perhaps, perhaps I was spared to be a witness. To write of what has happened so that whatever comes next remembers us, remembers how we failed. How we managed to destroy our species and everything we had created.

Perhaps our predecessors will learn from our mistakes.

I need to believe that. Because the fact is, that is all I have left. This need to believe I have some purpose. Mere survival is barely enough with the weight of loneliness I feel. So I’m holding on to this thin thread of…well…


Wednesday, October 7

freezing sun planetshift

circling this planet Earth right now are
our former homes
each spinning silently
as though forboding
as though chastizing
watching what we have done
so many times before
be done again

the sun isn't nearing
global warming is not coming
the sun is burning out
we have been hopping from planet to planet
destroying each as we go
robbing it of all it's valuable life-giving resources
the sun isn't nearing
this planet is being destroyed
that is why the heat has come

this is the human race
this is what we have been running
only the elite
the bloodlines traced
will escape to the next planet
as this one decays
then begins to repair
as the sun fades one more degree

the rest of us have been catering to these alien needs
we have been fooled
into believing we were important
in believing enough to worship their idols
false gods
into striving for something we can never acheive
being led by mind bending lies
illusions of unimportance to the ones behind the scenes

there is something coming though
there will be a great awakening
after that I am not sure
after that only questions arise

it is vital that you start to look at this world as an outsider
for this is what the majority of us truly are in our hearts
those born here don't even feel as though they belong
there is much going on in space
many things you haven't been told
great solar winds will eliminate complete cover-ups
secrets coming in dreams to some
visions to others
as a preperation
close your eyes now and sleep
the chryogenic chambers have been prepared

Thursday, September 24


There were no blueberries during the last summer. Blueberries that typically came in drooping clusters too large for a single household to make use of refused to produce even a single fruit, the flowers drying and falling off the bush. Also absent were cucumbers, pears, citrus, apples, and dozens of others. Only the self-pollinators were available in any quantity, and we all lived on tomatoes, beans and grain. In typical fashion we told ourselves this was a temporary setback, everything would be normal next year, but we all had the metallic taste of shock in our mouths. The delicate system we survived on was broken. The bees were gone.

This was when the sense of impending doom began to rise in our guts, but we must have mistaken it for hunger.

On August 4th, Washington DC exploded.

Ground zero was about a mile from the White House, and for a split second the ever-present media on the lawn broadcast a breathtaking image of a mushroom cloud rising as the backdrop to the capitol. Then their stories about pending legislation, naked PETA demonstrators - and, ironically, an environmental summit focusing on pollinating insects - vanished in a flash of white light, or television static, or graphics apologizing for technical difficulties.

The President and Secretary of State were on a well-publicized trip to the Sudan. They were not the target. Congress was in session but at a low attendance during the summer months, and not the target. All the residents of some of the poorest neighborhoods in the nation were wiped out, but again, they were not the end target. That bomb on Washington was aimed, first and foremost, at any right to life and liberty you ever thought you had.

Who dropped it? Not the "environmental terrorist" organizations that were blamed, I am quite certain. But that's who they punished first. Starting with the groups that had actually blown up or vandalized corporate farms and smoke-belching factories, then on to those merely accused of it, finally to organizations like Greenpeace and their small time donors. FEMA immediately began rounding up anyone suspicious. On August 6th we began to hear about arrests and shootouts. By August 12th, most of us had witnessed them ourselves. By August 19th the creaking and rumbling of freight trains through town had taken on a new, human element to their sound.

The bomb, the urgency of protecting the homeland, and the fact that the first ones arrested really were dangerous people lulled many into complacency. If you were stupid enough to buy that the roundup was in your best interest, you are probably dead now, carried off on a prisoner train to a "refugee camp." I've never considered YouTube an accurate and unbiased new source, but I could hear video loops running in my head: C-List will be killed primarily by starvation. Even the bees were not an accident.

My neighbors and I, we hid. We lived in an older apartment complex, outfitted with a subtly placed communal bomb shelter. I doubt very much it would have protected us from another bomb, but it did manage to keep us unnoticed by the panicked and murderous peace forces outside. On October 11th, out of food and stir crazy, we came up for air.

All things were quiet. The rest of the world was either dead or underground, it seemed. There were no cars on the streets, no crying babies heard through kitchen windows, no cell phone reception and no cashiers at the market. Just us and the self-pollinators.

I'm on the C-List and it's like those Left Behind books I hate so much, except God has nothing to do with it and it's a hell of a lot better than being taken.

Thursday, September 10

All Prophecies come true

There once was a far away land
with a far out man
out there he dreamt of very strange things
Among the things strange of which he would dream
a nation no longer fooled with dollars and percents
but a waking world serching for themselves

in this land the strange man lived
few every slowed to exist
for the roses grew tall, the sun rose and would fall
so beautifully
With no apologies did this man exist
he had secrets remembered from another time he used to live
no explanation need be made, this is just how it was
so sometimes his ways seemed harsh, sometimes mistook for what it was not
but as he had seen, the bookmakers and deans
had turned EVERYTHING around
here in this world lies began to grow
therefore the man had to seperate
And as the lies they grew
nothing would they not do
to achieve their temporary desires
so far from our true purpose, the man shook his head
he made a speech, showed all the examples
but just as time and time again, no one could understand
they had all been lied to and lied so much, truth was now obscene
so away they took him
for the cardinal sin of being honest he must burn
we all know there's no room for honesty when all that matters is money

Wednesday, April 8


to me the sky comes alive
when I think of you
if I were to let this go
I would be more alone
than without you in my head
sadness chases me
happiness awaits
Which way shall I run?
all I've known is sorrow
I don't need
hope it won't find me

said a spirit is moving
a moving spirit
cannot be stilled
said a love that's growing
a love can grow
forever fulfill
don't want to wait
til I get old
don't want to let my fear
conquer me
so give me a hand
I'll give you a piece of my soul

Wednesday, February 11


the key pharoh is in place
ready to enslave
so many willing
so many
so I ride into space
close my eyes
fade away
I have no idea why it is this way
why people don't want TRUE change
I suppose they just don't know
as all their lives they've been killing themselves
whilst convincing themselves it is ok
nations secretly wishing for death
if I could destroy this spoon fed hate
I would
just tell me where
may good fortune be upon you
may you see through the lies
pray for protection from subliminal messages
we are much more than what we've been told
I wait upon the shore of distant galaxies for you
dreaming you will one day join me

Wednesday, February 4

Pine Mountain to Emerald City (2)

Badlands. They really don't look so bad; plenty of green scrub at least. But at some point someone had to cross this on a wagon, and it probably wasn't wonderful.

You can't really control anything. Someone designed this ride long before we got on. The drops and turns and 360's have been in place for some time now and there's nothing we can do to change them. The only thing I can even think of controlling is my experience of it. And I suppose that's really all that counts. All that exists, maybe.

You're not going to fall out of the wagon. Remember that.

It'll be an adventure.


Tuesday, January 20


Shall I go?
all is gone
wretched are the hearts pulsating in my ears
lying are they eyes looking into my face
the symphony is not only frustrating
but out of key
said man walks to the front
said man is the fallen one
said man is celebrated
for nothing more than
it's on now
the final film reel rolling
see sweet the length
25, 920 years long
sliding into the frames to make us famous
no more concern
no more fight
down with no reason
to help you up
oh nation confused
surface people
don't you know that when they are in control
the better it looks
the worse it is truly becoming