I confess.....

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I do not listen to GWAR, though I am familiar with them. I can summon not a single song of theirs to mind, but I can conjure images of their shows; I recall them as being a great show band. I know not what they sing about Ragnarok.

But when I say it? I mean it in its purely traditional sense; the final battle, from Norse "mythology". And, yes, it has many synonyms; Armageddon, Judgment Day, Dooms Day, the end of the world... However one might prefer to refer to it. The END of all things. I have settled upon the notion, name, of Ragnarok for such a thing, event. (Have you looked at my MySpace page? ) And... There are so many ways in which it may happen, supernatural or not. And I care not how. Go to Wikipedia and look up "Doomsday event", if you have not already done so. It matters not to me; "The Final Battle"... Bring it.


Er, relatively speaking, I suppose I'm a noob too... I know her not. But... I love her already. I will look her up, and ask her to marry me; for I seek my match, my equal, my true love, though some part of me doubts she exists, for I am unique. Many fail to understand... I love to write, to weave art with words, as best I can. Whether I do so well or poorly is beside the point; I try, and those who whine about my trying are oblivious to what I try to do. Tell me I write poorly, if one dislikes, or well, if one appreciates... But "too long"? That's like saying to a painter, "You use too many cololurs..." It is a ridiculous, meaningless complaint, and I tire of hearing it.


I confess, this just makes me like you all the more.


NO. I am not new to it... But... It is something that, for reasons that escape me, I struggle with. Humanity as a whole? Should be immediately destroyed, as I said. All of them, including me. But... For some reason I do not understand, I still have some small faith in individual humans. As I mentioned, there are a few individuals that I hold out some hope for... A small few friends, a few family, a few here... I find some value in them, some worth. But, strangely, humanity as a whole continues to be obviously worthless to me. And, my efforts... I try to help, try to heal, try to encourage, try to advise, try to improve... Not humanity as a whole, but individuals. I... Know not why I do this. A feeble explanation is that I have the spirit of a healer, exist to help... But, my efforts to do so have been... Occasionally successful, but so largely they backfire on me, end up with me causing harm when I wish to help, come back to haunt me and cause grief... <sigh> I begin to resign myself to the inevitable.
A bad thing? I know not. "Inevitable" is closer to the truth. Or, rather, misanthropy is closer to the truth.


I confess... I am often there with you too... When someone wrongs me, hurts me, betrays me, backstabs me, lies to me... Some part of me blames the specific person. But, this is very interesting... As I proceed in my life, I'm more and more inclined to react to such things with, "Duh, it's a human? What did I expect? Stupid, stupid me for trusting, letting my defenses down, sharing my heart." For every time I think I find an exception to the rule... This apparent discovery later turns to the inexorable notion that humans have... no redeeming qualities, none that are not false or fleeting...

I confess you fail in comparison to my paranoia.

I confess that the reason that I'm obsessed with Sid, is because I perceive him to be a fat, autistic Punker with a Cockney Accent. In other words, Sid is me in the form of a blue-eyed rat, with a penis.

I confess I am a little sleepy but will shake it off in time for my driving lesson tonight

I confess that I do not see how you make that judgement without meeting me.

Ragnarok is the title of a GWAR album, that's why I asked, I don't listen to them all that much but I did see them live once, they definitely are showmen, and at their shows you don't want to wear anything that you don't mind getting covered in various unknown fluids.

According to what I think is Mayan religion, the world ends in the year 2012, something about that being the close of the final sun cycle. We'll see if they're right, soon.

I confess that I'm addicted to the Internet.

I confess I can't be bothered to go to bed but I have to

I confess I know precisely where you're coming from lol.

I also confess that I've re-found my best ways, and come hell or high water I'm sticking to them.

I confess, about a week ago I started tapering myself off of the Paxil I've been on; I thought I would no longer need it...

Today I started getting... THE ZAPS! Which, I confess, is irony upon irony, as I've been re-modeling myself from the notion of a computer system recently. ZAP! ZAP! Just system shorts after a catastrophic crash... Perfect.

In researching the horror stories involved in getting off of Paxil, I've come to learn that in addition to zaps, one typically experiences drastic mood swings and mental instability. Perfect! PERFECT! The plot thickens like a colloid of Ivory soap flakes placed in a cooler. I am Jack's perfect storm. What's up hindsight? How ya doin'?

I confess, it's all good. I need the zaps right now, a slight nudge of pain coming from somewhere within my brain every few moments or so... They remind me that I'm damaged, but alive. Perfect irony... That which does not kill me makes me stronger. And, this battle is a distraction I can use right now; I will use it to center myself; I was born for battle; I'd like to face off against Achilles just now...

I confess, I taught myself to fence/sword fight using my left hand as the primary (I'm ambidextrous), so that I could have a slight advantage over most people, who would be used to fighting right-handers. But my left hand is damaged just now, so I revert to my right for sword play... It's all good; to battle then...

And as I express myself so often with lines from songs or books or plays or movies, what comes to my mind just now is this:

"LET'S ROCK!! !" - Vasqez, Aliens

I confess I do read a post of yours when ever I see them, detailed and nothing missed. It's like a window into somebody else's thoughts.

Don't worry about being angry with me back then. You did what nobody else had the guts to do. My actions then seemed harsh and I was being out of line, I was half-joking but I was also paranoid and angry. However later I learned that what I feared was not the case. Quite the opposite.

I'm considering your invitation. Perhaps we can meet someday. Though for now I am at a confused hazy moment and my life needs to be as simple as possible. My mind is choatic, I'm sure you will understand.


I confess that you are right. Sorry.

Last edited by Jimbogf on 17 Oct 2007, 9:28 pm, edited 2 times in total.

I confess that after I wrote my previous confession, I did go and get one of my swords, a heavy bastard sword designed for full impact stage combat; tempered carbon steel, but no edge (well, a “safety” edge); it is a sword I use to spar with my autistic son sometimes (he as a similar but smaller one). And after spending several minutes practicing sword forms in my office (man did that make me feel better), I decided to step out onto my front deck and look at the mountain across from me, which often inspires me…

Lo and behold, the mountain was sheathed entirely in a thick mist; all I could see was a sea of grey... And a memory from my early years suddenly came to me, about a book that an author/artist friend of mine had published called “Mountains In the Mist”; it was about the Smoky Mountains, but I thought of it just then, nonetheless. And I felt… inspired. I thought of the old (possibly fictionalized) Viking practice of sounding for the shore in thick fog by calling out "Odin!" and listening for the echo... And in that moment of inspiration, I did so, three times...

"ODIN!!" And slammed the flat of my sword into a nearby support post for my deck (they are like telephone poles), to make a loud clang, and feel the sword reverberating in my hand...

I heard no echo, for the opposing mountain is too far away. But as I did it for the third time, and stopped to ponder my existence, I heard a smaller voice next to me call out, "Odin!" and heard a little clang... And I looked over, and my young autistic son was over by the other support post, with his sword, imitating me.

And as he did his little battle cry, off in the distance, I swear I heard the yip and yowl of one of the coyotes that live on the mountain behind me... And I thought about how when I wrote the little poem I this morning for my latest signature, the "paws" I were thinking of were coyote paws... The coyote spirit, one of my gods, was calling to me... And the coyote spirit is an alternate incarnation of the raven sprit; and the raven is the familiar and standard for none other than... Odin. Amazing; a moment of perfect clarity.

I confess, I'm feeling very good. I am free now, and will use my freedom to do great things. Humans should pray to be so lucky...

Last edited by Icarus_Falling on 17 Oct 2007, 8:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.

It is an open invitation; I'm just over the mountain from you (basically).

I confess, I do know what it is to be confused by hazy moments, and most especially what it is to be troubled by a chaotic mind. My best wishes to you with that

EDIT:

BTW, one of life's most recent lessons is that the spirit within me that gives me "guts" and inspires me to be fierce in my protectiveness... Is also that within me that might seem threatening and menacing to those I may care about; and the line between the seeming of the two is something that I still search for. I confess that I am a double edged sword, and very rare is the soul with the skill and heart to wield me properly. I confess, I do believe that there never comes a blessing that is not also partly a curse... And that which enables us to identify both and distinguish between the two is that thing which humans name "wisdom".

I confess that I'm ready to set up a budget.

I’m [literally] afraid of my own shadow. I jump every time.

I confess that I think I'm really 4 people in one.

There is Major Pawnage, the raging, sadistic psychopath.
Darth Sidious, the evil genius.
Predator, the quiet, misanthropic recluse, and the only sane one.
Those are just their nicknames, they are all really named Dracul and they are all the same guy, but from different times, and Dracul is a mentally unstable ape-man demon spawn with a mystical sword, formerly possessed and now a vampire.
But there is another presence too, its not officially part of the group, but I feel it. I think it's just me, who I really am. I call that one Psykotto. That is the name I use for almost everything except this board, and he is the father of Dracul. Psykotto is the supreme lord of the Under-realm and master of the Demon Lords.
Did any of that make any sense to any of you?

I confess that I have so many personalities that I've lost count.