Aeon Black Apocalypse

When I first found out my girlfriend was a queen (of the mother fucking universe) I must admit that I was a little bit shocked. I mean, ya, she gave pretty good head, but at no point during felatio did I ever think "god damn! now that's how a queen (of the mother fucking universe) should give head!". And ya, i'll admit it, she can cook a pretty damn fine meal...but I mean, do queens even cook? I found out they do. So, anyways, I find out about her little secret and all I could muster out was "k". In hindsight, she could probably rearrange my genetic makeup on the molecular level just by thinking it, but I got off without a scratch. That's dedication, baby.

There are three things you need to know about rulers of the universe. 1: They get headaches that are incurable. 2: They are occasionally sullen, downtrodden even, but for the most part are just as cute as a button. 3: The felatio is PRETTY good.

Universal rulers may seem to be very different, indeed, however, they have an appearance strikingly similar to human females. Gentleman and womanladies, be aware of their existence! Universal rulers are afoot!



for magdalena.

It was always there. Not in it's current state, not quite, but it was there. See, when you're a kid you think you can do anything until grown ups tell you that you cant. More and more I catch myself wondering how different my life would be had I never learned (in one way or another) that when you're dead you're gone for good. Sometimes it's hard to remember things accurately and pinpoint the exact moment when something happened. As best as I can remember, my grandfather's death was the first death I had ever experienced. I remember they put his body on the couch and we all got to go pay our last respects and hug him and say goodbye and I was so confused why everyone was so sad. I thought he was just sleeping and that it was time for us to leave so we were hugging him to say goodbye. I dont remember anyone specifically telling me that he was gone for good, but it seems like someone did. But I don't know, maybe it was days, or weeks, or months afterwards that it just kind of came to me...and I knew that death was the end, and just like that, it was gone. The few things I saw when I was very young suddenly became mysteries to me and I just sort of discredited them. When I got a little bit older, I learned about ghosts. Soon after that, those discredited things from when I was very young suddenly had a meaning. But nothing ever came of my sudden belief. I never saw anything else, and I think it was like a switch being turned off. Once it was turned off, nothing would let it push back to the "on" position. Since I learned about them, it felt natural for me to believe in it, but, despite my fervent belief, I would never see anything. I've always felt that uneasyness that most people get, but it's always seemed like I should be seeing things to go with those feelings. I made my mind up long ago that when I die I will remain here, at least for a while anyways. Still, with no proof that I even have that option, and no proof that there is such an existence after death...it just continues to be an uphill battle for confirmation in my life. I hope that some day i see something again, and have the chance to talk with them. I know i'll feel surprised, moreso at the fact that it's finally happened, but I think it will put everything into balance in my life. Who know's. All I have is time to wait and hope.

Only school can make an accomplished man feel like a worthless moron.

There comes a point in every journey...a point where you're so close to completing that journey that you can already taste it's sweet rewards. Yet, whatever the reason may be, you've never felt further from attaining your goal than at that very moment.

It can be some great catastrophe, some grand failure; something that's on such a scale you cant deny how bad it is. Or, worse than that, it can be the most minute thing that sets it off. At that point, in those circumstances, the only thing you have left to do is question, wonder, ponder and beat yourself up over what has happened.

You cant change anything, you know that much, but you still wonder if maybe there was some minute errors that could tip things in your favour...possibly make that bad situation a little better. You question how you could have been so stupid...after all, you knew what you were doing. You sit and mull over the same results over and over and you weigh the consequences of those results until your brain hurts. When it's all said and done and you've simply accepted your fate, all that's left is to feel the pain of the inability to fix things.

Our entire civilization is built up around the fact that dreams DO come true and all you have to do is work hard enough and your dreams will become reality...but the sad truth is that it's all just statistics and sensationalized press. For every person who makes it big in their field, there are countless people, with just as much passion and determination, who fail horribly. But no one wants to hear about those sad bastards, we only want the sugar coated sweets that make us sigh and say aloud, in our perfect little worlds, that "aint life grand?".

So you roll with the punches and keep on going, but your view of things and yourself is forever changed. Forever you're looking back at that moment with self-sustaining disappointment and you're forever making decisions based on those disappointments. And in the end, you'll know it's all just part of becoming your own final product, but not every story has a happy ending, and so you continue with your disappointments and your decisions.

She used to stare up the sky, dreaming of what lay beyond the clouds and dust. Then she grew older and pursued her dreams, spying on the heavens and naming the stars no one knew about. She had stoked the wood in her fireplace shortly before, and felt the heat from it as she sat in her reclined chair. It could have been anything, really, but she tracked it. She followed it, as best she could, streaking across distant sky's. It was distant, but still, it felt as though the back of her eyeballs were being licked by the burning tongues of Cerberus. It moved to the point where she could no longer follow it, and lay back, gazing into nothing, stunned. In the following weeks she would look harder and longer to see it again, and she would. She would go outside her normal work frame and stare at the brink of the sun. And she would find them again. Strange, dull images were taken. Videos of a reasonable quality. She would send them, everywhere she could. People began to talk. Word spread of their existence, whatever they were. She stoked her fire and talked with whoever wanted to talk. She was seeing sun spots almost all the time on the edges of her eyes, for she was a trained viewer and knew how to look properly. More photo's, of better quality, would be taken. Video's. They would be given the names of old gods. And then the world would attempt to contact them and they would respond by bringing the fury of the sun to their world.

Canal City was the first. There is nothing left of it, not even ash. It's like they wipe your memory of the place when they destroy it. It's so hard to imagine it now. They stride with full lungs into cities and cast their hands outwards. They rake buildings with ease, erasing them in waves. People are eaten away and forgotten. They try using weapons on them, despite knowledge that they will have no effect. They need to see for themselves, and they do. The heralds dont even acknowledge the attempted damage to them, they just continue. Always pushing forward. Always an ever expanding wave of nothing follows them. When they are done here, and there is nothing left, they will return to where they came from. They do not question their purpose. This is what they do.

As you may or may not have noticed, I havn't posted anything for a while. This is basically due to a number of reasons. Some family issues, business and financial related issues, and my semester of school coming to close (meaning lots of projects due and lots of tests)...nothing too serious, just alot going on and i've only had a small amount of free time available to write in here. The way I looked at it, it's not about quantity, it's about quality; i'd rather you enjoy what i'm writing than just know that i'm writing.

So, all that being said, with my life ceasing to be so hectic, i'm definately going to have more free time available to think up things to write about...and what I find interesting is that the more I think about having the time to be creative, the more my brain is re-activating that mindset. It's like i'm switching out of that daily-routine/drone mode that we sometimes find ourselves in...and I don't think that's a bad mindset to be in, sometimes it's neccessary, but life has so much more to offer. We, as human's, have so much more to offer.

I've got some more studying to do for my last final tommorow, but i'll leave you with Timothy Leary.


I did act as a PR person for the brain...and the possibilities for changing the brain are endless, but our human race doesn't understand the brain at all...now, think about it, all that work for fifty million years to produce a brain with all these receptor sites to have the government come along and say they're illegal...that you can't activate these certain circuits of the brain...and there are alot of area's of the brain that we havn't even thought about that we can activate.

The clouds clearing, the dust settling and, all in all, I can see things clearly again. My sickness is waning away and it appears by the end of the week I should be back to normal again (well, as close to normal as i'm gonna get, anyways). Life in general seems like it's coming together just fine and it's looking to me like this is going to be a good year. A year of great conclusions, one's that I think i'm okay with. Three cheers for Nyquil.

Do yourself a favour, download the album Oi Oi Oi! by Boys Noize (especially if you're into stuff like Justice, Daft Punk, Sebastian, or really any of the Ed Banger Record Label stuff)...it's bangin'

Thanks to all of you out there in bitcomet land who have read my stuff, and I hope that more of you leave comments telling me what you think. I really enjoy hearing from you all, even if they are negative comments. Thanks again. Cheers.

Blacked out on the bathroom floor this morning. Nearly cracked my head on the edge of the bathtub as I collapsed to my knee's. Forced myself into ice cold water and nearly went into shock. Slowly got used to it and cooled my body down. I'm shivering still but I still feel like i'm boiling inside. The drugs are NOT strong enough. Fever is sustaining but not reducing. Personal note: i've never gotten chicken pox, and this is apparently how it starts. Fingers crossed that i'm not crossing that bridge, not now. I think about her nursing me back to health and it keeps me sane, and it's like i'm nursing the thought of her nursing me all the while i'm nursing myself. Phantom care. I dont even have a clue what tommorow morning is going to bring.

Well, this sickness has definately gotten the better of me and I still remain feverish and sore. My throat and chest are so dried out from a hacking cough that i'm almost forced to take tiny breathes so as not to irritate my lungs...which would assuredly start up a coughing fit. I feel so weekened by this and my only reassurance is that at some point it will pass and the fact that I dont get sick very often is fairly comforting.

Normally, getting sick wouldn't be too big of a deal for me, i'd just take a day or two off work and get better...however, the schooling i'm doing right now for my trade limits me on how many hours of school I can miss, and because i'm already pushing the limit of hours I can have before being expelled, i'm basically stuck with going to school. It's a pretty shitty situation.

Soup, lots of water and the couch...here I come!

I'm sick. I'm taking the weekend off. See you all on monday ;)

P.s: Download Delicatessen, Battle Royale and Battle Royale II: Requiem...you wont regret it.

with love

After the rise and fall of the machine empire, mankind regained their control over machines...only this time with a tighter grip. That being said, if the machines are now only a medium for mankind...

Who's tuned in? Who's watching? There are eyes tracing gridlines mapped over a dull six and a half inch screen, and at this very moment you are a series of oscillations being monitored for what can only be variances. You, the little rabbit being prodded along, are about to make quite the variance.

The screen really loses it's meaning when steam is rising from the slug inside it. The cracks in the screen, streaming outwards from the entry wound make the gridlines look like a spider web. You wonder, will the waves exit through that hole and spiral about this room, becoming what is and was and whatever will be.

The screen, you think, is beautifully framed by his skull casing and brain matter. Though, that incessant dripping of who knows what is really just plain old distracting. The screen though, it just draws you in. It pulls you into a wall and holds you there, pressing the life out of you. If we watch ourselves, do we become stuck in an infinite loop? Will this moment last forever? You knew the answer to that before you even thought it. His head droops and that picturesque moment is now but a memory, fresh and tinging in your mind and through to your teeth. For you, yes you, have found out exactly who's watching...and well, lets just say your ratings have plummeted.

So who's watching? You'll never know, because he doesn't have a face anymore. Even if he did, he lost his identity when he began with this. So what do you do? Enjoy it. That's all there is. That's it for you.

If you still could conjure up thought, conciously and on this plane I mean, you'd probably be thinking right now "damnit, if he hadn't collapsed that would have been like a scene from a movie...completely impossible, yet strangely compelling in all it's glorious audacity.

The screen is a mess, and it's impossible to view a fucking thing out of it. It's just ruined. Your head is a steaming hole, dripping god knows what and...oh, now you've collapsed.

They stand above you, looking at all this mess you've created. One of them reaches down to depress the worn button on his radio. He calmly begins to talk and describes the situation to you know who (well, you did), but he fails to mention your name, because even if your face hadn't been blown off, you'd still fail to exist, because that's what you lost when they took you to this place...and if you still could think, conciously and on this plane I mean, you'd probably be thinking "well, that's all good and dandy, but who's watching? Who's tuned in? If we watch ourselves, do we become stuck in an infinite loop? Will this moment last forever?"

You knew the answer, to all of those, before you even thought it...and so did they.


With civilization reeling from the war, bonded together through the first common enemy that they have faced in centuries, mankind was...succeptible. As the years pass, and times change, so do the people that live in them...but if you watch anything for long enough, patterns will emerge. In a way, we will always be stuck in some form of loop, some noose which we fashion ourselves...a single genious to imagine it, a group of experts to design it, a nation of slaves to tie it and a world to occupy it. One war has ended, and another has already begun.