Ge-nome?

I left you on the porch with a .45 betwixt your teeth.

It smashed willfully against the surrounding porcelain.

Reminding nerve endings of their existence.

You were asphyxiating on marble sized tears.

Reminding airways and their owner of their existence.

Something about being alone.

Something about being scared.

Something about being different intermittently spilling with spit over thick, wet lips.

Tell me like you mean it this time.

Let me hear it like I care.

Nah.

The words that slap the inner workings of my ears are more exhausted than the tongue that sends them into space.

I’m a famished faggot, devouring a dish of apathy.

A whimper tumbles down the length the barrel, over your hand, and onto silent air.

A Danse Macabre it does.

An expression as cliched as this concrete quagmire that once connected you and me in better days.

Bits of bridge that remain between us.

It used to know pleasant traffic.

Sorry.

Fuck you.

Fuck it.

You’re so upset.

You hate what you’ve done to us.

I hate what I’ve done to me.

2.44 lbs. lets you know it’s there when it rattles.

Wet, bitter metal offensively alerts you of it’s presence when it shakes off and shutters against the particles that cling to it.

Some particles you can’t see.

Back and forth.

Shaking.

Grinding.

Betwixt your clammy fingers.

You sit ten steps away from where I stand.

I know this because I counted every one when I walked away from you.

Each one was lighter than the next.

I’m being liberated.

My foot trenched into the promise of freedom.

The rest of me is following like the heavy metal I love.

Killswitch?

Yours whispers to a finger print.

Mine clamors with Elation.

Aspirations of drowning out that drone.

Something about being depressed.

Something about being abused.

Something about being disgusted with who you are, now dropping out of your mouth to pool in the atmosphere of your proximity.

The saturation is overwhelming and it’s starting to clot.

I’m amazed I made it out alive.

I’m amazed that I don’t care.

I’m amazed that I’m happy to be out.

I’m amazed that it took me so long.

But playing whipping boy to Hindsight is no longer requisite of this process; there is hope in this.

Upon setting you down, I garner the gift of open hands.

One free to pick myself up and out of those shadows and step into this bliss.

Eleven steps.

The other...

Twelve steps.

The words are becoming more inaudible now.

Thoughts translate to chemicals and assemble a smile upon my face.

This one feels alien, tugging on sinewy cables rarely called into action beside you.

An alien I adore in it’s presence.

At seventeen steps you pull the trigger.

At seventeen, the wire in that trigger detonates this mess.

At seventeen, the shrapnel laden incendiaries besetting the columns of that concrete quagmire engulfs this umbilical cord of plague in its own apocalyptic conflagration.

At seventeen steps history won’t recognize this or us.

The trigger will throw that slug the twenty centimeters where it belongs in roughly point zero-zero-six seconds.

I count seventeen for the fifth time.

I assume I’ve done the math right.

Lucky me.

And for the moment, I hear that crack echo through a space that’s split-second making like a supernova.

The moment I realize you’re now out of both of our heads...

Now, what was it I needed to take care of today?

Into A Series of Tubes, Covered In Placenta

So this is a big step for me, I suppose. I’m 24, it’s 2009, and this will be my first blog.

*I know however, that you most likely don’t give a shit, and I hate to sound trite with the “big step” nonsense, but I personally don’t give a fuck. At the moment, it seems to be the most ready device to introspectively elicit this steaming tangle of turd.)

Now, I would like to assert that my reluctance to take part in such a phenomenon is in no way, shape, or form a protest against the medium as a whole. Being able to communicate freely and openly, en masse on a world-wide scale is in my opinion, one of the most powerful and beautiful advancements made in recent human history. It’s brought people, feelings, and ideas together, and it’s given them a means by which to flourish and evolve, be it through the discovery of new cognitive patterns, introspection, criticism, etcetera. It’s given the little guys a global megaphone, and the big guys a more communicative opposition. It’s made an aggressive attempt to level the playing field in many aspects.

But I’m merely recycling turds (as referenced above). You’ve already heard this shit before.

Unfortunately, I can also never consider the positive effects of a technological advancement without considering the possibilities of cultural regression that could plausibly manifest themselves post-advancement induction. “ Insert banal maxim on history’s repetition, blah, blah, blah, here”. For instance, in a poor example: a generation of obese, liver-crippled Johnny Does, who instead of burning calories on the playground, stay glued to the internet, and their WOW games inside.

*Other examples include:

• The ability to eradicate a faceless population from 10,000 miles away with the push of a button.
• An advancement’s impact on the environment. Ex. > The Industrial Revolution, Global Warming, The Agricultural Revolution (on a broader scale).
• A new drug that simply covers the ailment rather than curing it, or does more damage than the ailment itself.
• Being able to digitally connect while simultaneously emotionally disconnecting (this includes breaking-up, or firing through the use of a text or an e-mail).
• Glenn Beck
• The Disney Channel
• Barbara Streisand
• Etc.

Now, I fully understand that it’s the people using these advancements that account for detriment, and not the advancements themselves. I also understand that knowing this, my hesitance to participate should have receded, but my own cynicism had left me believing that I would merely end up fighting Fire with Firewood (I’ll explain below). I know it’s fucked up, but that’s just how I am. Thus, the birth of my reluctance, and back to the topic at hand.

So, while the medium has done much to give those little guys a voice (consumers voicing their opinion on faulty products for example), and all of the aforementioned benefits, it’s also provided a platform for amplified idiocy. A platform for jerk-offs to expel illogical sentiments without engaging in a conversation with another human being, and thus avoid any real feedback or confrontation. A platform for cowards too afraid to voice their opinions to the faces of humanity to hide behind closed doors and an alias. And most of all, a platform for self-righteous fuck-wads to stand on a virtual soapbox and saturate their audience in absurd amounts of ignorant, irrelevant, and uneducated bullshit, without the slightest regard for fact, truth, or rationality. I speak primarily of those who formally and informally assume themselves savants in the realms of politics, religion, ethics--and more inclusively--culture, with little education on the topics as a whole, and complete disregard for the topics’s subjective nature. Individuals who objectively insist that their perception and execution of daily life is the correct one. Those and their agendas who and which, I have monikered The Fire, in the context of the analogy I have created for this dilemma. And much like fire itself, which will undoubtedly attempt consume and destroy all that is thrown in it’s path without conscience or reason, the Cross-eyed Crusaders who so blinded and bedazzled by the glory of their beliefs, give no thought to conscience or reason on either side of the conflagration. And as part of the process, are able to pretty much cover any opposing fact, truth, or rationale in petrol, and engulf it as part of the blaze as it’s turned into Firewood. “Insert banal maxim on the power of ignorance here”.

But I’m merely recycling turds. I’ve already told myself this shit before

In fact, I’ve done it a few times.

And I’d be the complete fucking epitome of what I loathe, if I were not to admit that I’ve known such a praxis of illogic, cowardice, and ignorance to have been already well established. Its nothing new. In fact, aside from movement towards increasingly accessible mediums, little has changed in this regard. The jerk-offs, the cowards, and the fuck-wads have been spewing nonsensical bullshit for thousands of years. It’s a practice that’s been exercised and maintained by religious institutions, monarchs, governments, dictators, presidents, imperialists, corporations, Adolf Hitler, Pol Pot, Jerry Falwell, and an incessant list of others. It’s a practice that has been so well infused into a number of textbooks, tabloids, songs, and TV shows, that it’s instilled in their audience unquestioned tendencies towards coprophagia that sometimes leave me catching myself choking on a spoonful of deuce that’s already halfway down my throat.

There is definitely a doodie theme here.

So fuck, back to square one. Where muster merit in all of this?

First off, while it may come as a surprise to many of those around me (it’s something I’m trying to work on), over the years, I feel like my pessimism has developed as merely the more exposed component of a duality. I guess that while observing the malicious nature of some has left me feeling nauseous and abhorrent, it has also left me to find hope and faith in the the compassionate tendencies of others. Suffice it to say, there is a contrasting optimism. An optimism that knows that amongst the deleterious motivations of the fuck-wads, cowards, Hitlers, and Pol Pots, there are the Ghandis, the Gibrans, the Mandelas, the Martin Luther King Jrs., the Bill Hicks, the Lennons, the Thomas Paines, and that one guy who ended up nailed to that cross. Individuals who consistently keep us questioning the bullshit and reminding us of how beautiful life can be. I see some of them everyday.

Secondly, it’s free fucking speech, which in itself is one of the most precious rights an individual can possess (provided that they are also free-thinking). And while I'm reticent to divulge it, and may completely disagree with their message, it is an important thing that the ignorant are able to spew ignorance. It’s important for an open platform to exist, as it’s the only type of platform that allows for the MLK Jrs., the Paines, the Ghandis, the humanitarians, the brilliant, the rational, etcetera, to expose the world to progressive and compassionate ideas, void of the ridiculous persecution that they all endured in doing so. It’s important for such a platform to exist as it levels the playing field in opposing the ignorant and the oppressive. Throughout history, it’s been the institutions without such a platform in which the perpetuation of ignorance has been so detrimental both internally and externally, i.e. The Third Reich, The Roman Catholic Church, Al Qaeda, Stalin’s SU, and Zedong’s China, just to name a few.

Thirdly, I’m forced to place all of this bullshit into perspective. Yeah, the world is flooded with fucked-up vibes. Each day I step into it is another day I’m subjected to an incessant deluge of idiocy, malice, and fear. It’s in the airwaves, it’s in the TV, it’s in print, and it’s expelled from the mouths of people I hear from day to day (primarily jerk-offs, cowards, and fuck-wads). So I suppose my real dilemma lays in becoming disconcerted over the fact that in the midsts of all the nonsense forced down our throat everyday, another medium that could easily be used to assert the truth once and for all in the name of humanity could easily succumb to becoming another tool used in the perpetuation of falsification. But the fact of the matter is, the bullshit will perpetually exist in the air as long as the ignorant continue to put it there for eyes and ears to receive. And in the process of wallowing in a bitch-fit of defeat, and choosing to do nothing about it, I become just as much part of the problem as those slinging the shit showers in the first place. In my unsettled silence, I become a coward, a bit of a jerk-off, and somewhat of a fuck-wad.

So what am I left with? Two choices I can see clearly at the moment.

ONE: In the last couple of years, I have managed to assuage a bit of my frustration through the exercise of apathy and distraction. However, I say “a bit”, because I feel that as much as I’ve tried, it’s been fairly impossible for me to completely atrophy my feelings of dismay when I hear a “Pundit/Entertainer” on FOX News lauding the final outcome of California’s legislation regarding gay marriage, or some blogger lambasting the denizens of a local suburb because their choice of dress, music, or nonthreatening lifestyle is different than theirs.

Now, in no way am I condemning their expression of opinion. I think it’s a pretty awesome that they can exercise their right to free speech, and part of me finds solace in the fact that it is just “their opinion”, and can consequentially garner a degree of apathy towards the effects of their opinion. However, opinion becomes a far more dangerous thing when it begins to affect legislation that limits the natural born rights of others in “the land of the free”, as in the case regarding prop 8. It also becomes dangerous when it propagates fear and malice merely on a social level, as in the case of the blogger lambasting individuals for their innate, or chosen differences. Keeping in mind of course, that some oppressive legislation has come to fruition as the result of the propagation of hate.

Well, it seems like total apathy is out of the question.

TWO: If I’m to clearly dissect and evaluate all the information that I’ve laid out for myself, it seems pretty evident that my other option is to do what I do best in even the most tense of social situations, sans filter or tact. Open my big fucking mouth.

Yes, it’s a bit baffling for me to consider that I’ll openly embrace candor in any social scene inclusive of lips to ear discourse, but have remained so afraid to take part in the digital pen to pupil medium. Better late than never, I suppose. Perhaps it’s the immediacy of reaction, and the fact that it involves the people closest to me that grants gratification and participation in the former. Maybe I just feel more merit in the argument in the more intimate situation.

In doing so, I realize that I might not directly put out any of The Fires. I’m not looking to change the minds of those incapable of changing. I’ve come to understand that you can’t teach an old dog not ready to learn, new tricks. I merely aim to illustrate the arguments on the screen as part of my own cognitive , cathartic, and sometimes socratic process, and hope that the more open and receptive minds can take what they can from it and build bridges with the wood that the others would burn. Much like the bridges that the Ghandis, the Gibrans, the Mandelas, the Martin Luther King Jrs., the Bill Hicks, and the Lennons advocated that we build between each other.

And no, I am in absolutely in no way trying to align myself with these individuals in regards to their quality of character, or the gifts that they’ve given to the world. I am just grateful for what they’ve done, and feel very much obliged to give back what I can, however small.

It should also be noted that the heavy tone of the entry above is not an exemplification of all the entries to follow. A platform for me to voice my opinion on primarily humanitarian issues that matter to me is also a platform for me to make boner jokes every now and then. Mostly because boner jokes are hilarious, and if you can’t laugh at a boner joke every now and then, it’s possible that you might have become very bored with life.

-”Save our lives and yours. Be honorable.”

-Kurt Vonnegut

A Man Without a Country

I am Preston Roeschlein, and this is my blog.

-Boner...