Martyr

Like the talons around my neck
Teardrops tear softly at your skin
They’ll kill you if they catch you
This evil must not win

Travel far, and please be free
Stay good and without pain
And as the life is choked from me
You mourn a sad refrain

Like the fires of hell my soul burns up
The pain seems too much to bear
They’ll relinquish everything to him…
This eternity in his lair

Like so many evils we have slain together
The body protests, a violent thrash
They’ll poison my very being within
This hero, turned to ash

So run, child, and don’t look back
You are from Heaven sent
And as my heart bleeds to purest black
You weep a low lament

Do not cry, son – I’m born anew
- With demons now I merge
And as I race to collect you
You scream a frantic dirge

You can run, boy, but ne’er hide
I am as one with them
And as we rip the life from you
You squeal your requiem

Copyrighted KPJ 2008

Posted by Wordmobi

Ten-Fifteen

I shall never forget
The day that we met
By the train with the pure-as-snow steam
You walked into my life
To become my wife
And it all started at ten-fifteen.

Who would have supposed
The day I proposed
By the glittering sunny cool stream
Through no intention of mine
The question I popped at the time
Of exactly ten-fifteen.

The night we did wed
As we snuck into bed
And we made love like I’d always dreamed
As we climaxed I looked
The clock beside us shook
A trembling but true ten-fifteen.

Nine months later all done
Came to my world, our son
To become a formidable teen
Imagine my joy
As the nurse shouted, “boy!”
As the clock again struck ten-fifteen.

And years it did take
I finally saw you were fake
And formed with my boy a great team
And as he and I began
Our solutionary plan
The clock burned a bright ten-fifteen.

It was his insight for me
That took me to see
On me you were never that keen
He proved to me so
Other men did you know
That fateful night at ten-fifteen.

We approached you next night,
Gave you quite a fright
We were playing a joke, it would seem
I confronted, you lied
You attempted to hide
But nobody could hear you scream
As you pleaded, protested and called
Your blood hit the walls,
Spattering the dial of which read ten-fifteen.

Copyright KPJ 2008

Posted by Wordmobi

Angry? Moi?

I’ve been blogging for almost two years now, and recently I asked myself why.

I realise that it is not for meeting people, for comforting words from a kind stranger. It is not to entertain others. It is a release for me. A place to put my hate, rage, joy and sorrow, because I don’t show my emotions well.

I made too many mistakes when I first started. I revealed way too much sensitive information about myself, and I ended up hating myself for forcing it because I thought it might be good for me. I also decided that my fiance and I would make our relationship known on the site, which was kind of a mistake.

You see, my fiance is a very popular person – respected, liked, loved, sucked-up-to (and sure, he’s intelligent, funny, sexy, all the things a good man is) and I… Am not. Many people view me as the girl who is “lucky to have him” as if I am a lesser person than he. This is my fault, for people pity me, and often ignore me on his blog when I speak directly to them.

Why? Jealousy, sometimes. Sometimes it’s down to other circumstances that arose on the site when a person or two, after learning something about me, decided to wage a little war to see whom my fiance would side with, them, or me. Now, he’ll always side with the person who is right. I remember he banned me when he was an admin on one site, because I was waaaay outta line.

So, yeah. That’s one of the big reasons I came here. I’m tired of being known to people only as “his girlfriend” (if they even bother to acknowledge I am) and being ignored at every opportunity by some crazy fanboy/girl who wishes to worship my sweetie’s picture.

I’m sick of people picking fights, hoping to twist things so that people believe them (and they often do) because everyone knows I’m “mentally ill”.

Like I said, I made some major fucking mistakes. But hell. At least I’ll learn, right?

…maybe.

I’m generally just pissed off, fed up and feeling a bit sorry for myself.

Rant over.

Posted by Wordmobi

Whisper

You know how people joke about a voice in the head that tells a person to do things? Things like flicking a lightswitch 23 times before they leave a room, because if they don’t, they’ll die? Voices that tell them to kill things, burn things?

Well, that’s me. Sometimes my job is easy, other times they put up resistance. Either way, I do love my job.

Nobody but the person I’m with knows what I say. And not even they know what “triggers” me. And they don’t even know that I’m always there, with them, whether I’m vocal or not.

22.10.05.

Today I started working with Alice. She’s a very quiet girl, with next to no self-confidence. She’s incredibly withdrawn. Timid. One of the easy cases.

Right now, we’re sitting in a cafe. We’re not eating – just nervously huddled over a cooling cup of tea hoping the world will pass us by. We’re staring out of the window, hoping that all the schoolkids that pass by will ignore her. She’s quite the target. They can smell her fear of them a mile away, and everyone knows how cruel children can be.

BANG! A schoolboy kicks the window, laughing as we leap out of our chair in fright, shattering our cup to the ground and shaking with adrenaline and embarrassment. We feel completely humiliated and victimised. This turns to anger, and we march out of the cafe, ignoring the waitress, who protests that we haven’t paid.

From Within

So sit beside me, honey,
And talk to me about it,
Life ain’t what you always thought that it’d be.
You expected all the good things,
And wallowed in your sorrow,
And now you come on cryin’ home to me.

Your knight, he ain’t so shiny,
More a dusky, no-good husk.
Ya ever thought that maybe it’s just you?
You’re set to be so discontent,
And seein’ only bad,
Ever wonder if all your thinkin’ just ain’t true?

So lay beside me, sugar,
And cry those tears all for it,
I can say so much, yet nothin’ I can do.
You put yourself up in that place,
And walled it off, trapped inside,
I can’t help things if first you don’t help you.

Pills won’t make you better,
Drinkin’ just makes it worse,
And you’ve been down that bleedin’ track before.
Your fortress, it’s a-crumblin’,
I’m all you got to turn to,
And this ain’t somethin’ that you’ll forever ignore.

So bleed beside me, sweetie,
And yell in pain about it,
I’ll be here, forever, with each breath.
And one day soon
I’ll get my dream
My poisons complete,
You’ll kick and scream…
As these words drag you slowly to your death.

Copyrighted KPJ 2008

Posted by Wordmobi

Obligatory newb post

So, I’m sitting here thinking, as I often do late at night. Christmas is just five days from now, and I don’t feel at all “Christmassy.” This is, in part, due to the commercialisation of a religious holiday. I’m not religious, but I hate what’s happened. Christmas, to most, is a day to rip open presents, eat too much food and cater to their greed. It was originally Pagan, and then adopted by Christians, and I find the evolution of the holiday rather distasteful.

Anyway, I have, however, been going over the year.

This year has been pretty big for me – six months ago I finally moved out of the city I’ve been stuck in for five years, back to the city I hail from. My little cousin recently committed suicide, much to the shock of many. I’ve started a new medication alongside my old one to help with certain things. I’m closer to the family member most important to me – I used to be able to visit twice a year, now it’s once a week – many little things have happened, but I’m not going into it right now.

I’m starting to put my foot down about people’s exploitative nature, which is a novel thing, as for the 22 years I’ve been on this Earth, I’ve been a total tool. Now, even though I cannot vocalise my feelings, at least I’m starting to avoid the people.

I’ve gained and lost friends online. I’ve made a couple of enemies, even. I got sick of the site I started blogging on – both site and people issues – so I came here.

I like it here, I think.

I’m nervous about life (no change there, then) but I’ve gotta get used to it.

I’m still totally new to WordPress so anyone reading will have to forgive me for my errors and lack of know-how on this site. I currently blog by mobile phone and it’s bloody difficult, to say the least.

My Christmas plans are simple – at home, with my fiance, a small dinner, a long walk, a movie shared under a blanket in the evening. My birthday is a few days later, but I’ve not decided what to do yet. Hopefully I’ll get out of this funk.

What’re you doing for Christmas?
Happy Holidays to everyone, anyway. Whatever you’re doing – I hope you have a nice time.
~K

Posted by Wordmobi

Hush

We all sit still and question why
And wonder how come we even try
We live, laugh, experience every deed
But in the end we all shall bleed
And when life’s more than we can take
We fracture, and in the end we break
Don’t ask the meaning of this life
Riddled with war, hate, pain and strife
We can’t escape it, it’s pointless crying
We all struggle to reach the goal of dying
The world is such a horrid place
But dry the tears up from your face

So, hush, little baby, don’t you cry
It’s an eventuality, we’re all gonna die
That’s just the way of life and death,
We’re trapped until our very last breath.

Copyrighted KPJ 2008

Posted by Wordmobi

Moron Of The Month

This month’s moron was subject to karma back in 2001.

In Chihuahua, Mexico, there are two caves, 1200 feet below the earth, which contain some of the largest crystals ever known. Legend says that any who try to steal said crystals will be cursed – and the legend seems to be true for this moron:

After seeing the crystals, he thought it’d be a good idea to steal one. So, he set to work at chopping one free… As he stood underneath it. Of course, as his treasure finally fell from the ceiling, he found himself trapped beneath it, and he cooked to death in the cave’s temperature of over 108 degrees F.

He may not have walked away with his crystal, but he did win a Darwin award…

Posted by Wordmobi

Sabotage

How can this work?
I love you
I hate myself.
Sabotage
I sabotage everything I have.
I try as earnestly as possible
To change things
To stop this.
The repercussions of my actions
Drive me to the same old shit once more.
Break the cycle
Break the cycle
And how?
I’ve shattered things to such a degree
The consequences
Further my appetite for destruction.
Is this what I wanted?
Probably,
In the cold, murky depths of subconsciousness.
I love you with every breath
Although it’s as I despise you,
Can’t live without you
Can’t breathe without you
Can’t die without you
Kiss me or kill me
Either one is agony
JUST CHOOSE
I’m screaming inside
For a dramatic finale
To this twisted
Parody
Of life.

Copyrighted KPJ 2007

Posted by Wordmobi

We really need to start a mandatory parenting exam!

Imagine this: you’ve just brought your first born child into this world, and you’re about to name your new son. You’ve been thinking about things for a while – having been raised by bigoted, xenophobic morons for parents, you want your son to grow up respecting and celebrating all cultures and skin colours. That’s understandable, right? Perhaps even admirable.

Is that enough?
Not for Heath Campbell – who decided that a suitable first name for his child would be Adolf. The middle name? Hitler. That’s right – he named his son Adolf Hitler Campbell.
The child’s mother must’ve either been too doped up on painkillers, or decidedly moronic, because she quite happily let the boy be christened so.

Why?
Because “no-one else in the world would have that name.” Well, sure, and you know why?

BECAUSE NOBODY ELSE IS STUPID OR EVIL ENOUGH TO NAME THEIR CHILD ADOLF HITLER!!

What else did the father have to say?
“They need to accept a name. The kid isn’t going to grow up and do what [Hitler] did.”
Fair enough, a name is a name, and yes, people should leave the past where it belongs. The kid will not be Hitler, but the truth is this:
Think about the years of torment and abuse you will be causing your child! He will be bullied, hurt and spit on by society because of you!

If that’s not enough, the Campbell family were upset by their denied request for a birthday cake iced with their son’s name in their local ShopRite. Well, if I was a member of staff at said store and had previously recieved a request from the family for a swastika design, then I’d think they were kinda screwed in the head.

It’s one thing to name your son after one of the most evil men who ever lived – it’s another to be upset that cake decorators have a problem with writing his name publically. Especially when you wanted a lovely swastika design before.

Yet another example of overzealous hippie crap. What’s next? You’re gonna name your next one George W Bush and ask for a dead Iraqi design?
It’s not ever going to be acceptable, and I hope for the boy’s sake he’s going to be homeschooled. The poor child is going to need a ton of therapy either way.

Posted by Wordmobi