Originally posted by Ou Be Low hoo
Next, we have a collection of notes that I amassed during my spell in isolation...[B]Notes from a dark, dark hole: Part 1 - The Remedy
On first finding myself surrounded by 4 walls, 1 ceiling and a floor, my intial thoughts were "Where in the wheetabix am I?"...After 4 seconds of precise deduction and logistical reasoning, I came. To the conclusion that where I was was somewhere I hadn't not not been before....This usettled me less than a little, but not as much as nuthin but a G-thang, baby...I knew I had my wits, but what if they were wittled away by the wind? Silly thinking, I know...You don't get wind in a woom. After realising my predicament I spent some time contemplating the answer to "Yes?"...
Notes from a dark, dark hole: Part 2 - The Abyss and The Frog Boy
Moons jumped and suns swept, but still my time of reflection continued. The answer to the 'yes' question became more and more convoluted as it was infected by the moss and the grime of the grim grumbling cage that was my home. 'Does the caged bird sing as sweet as the free feathered friend?' I asked myself...The response was not what it wasn't and certainly didn't not it was. My mind seemed to grow dull at the dinge in solitary, but frequently I would obliterate my worries by roaming in my minds eye-eye. Captain, what course for the island? "I know not the place of our being, yet the North Star shall guide us", said he. A wise, old salt never needed seasoning, that was for sure! The enveloping actual darkness was one day lit by a candle of a croak...A dear friend I came to know and love as 'Frog Boy'! There was I waiting for my drifting, when through the crack in Celia's door hip-hopperty-hopped the ol' winger! "What the biz?', said FB..."The trees are a fine shade this time of year, aren't they not?", continued he. At first glance, I was taken a step back-attack by his barracking brogue, but with crystal vision I understood and talked, he did, about the world out-side, as I grew cold in here...
Notes from a dark, dark hole: Part 3 - Suffoofering-ing
The cold chilled my bones to brittle stalactites drooping in the gloom. The sun shone not for me, but for you and people like you. This was the way of my world. A world without light, only darkness and decay. A world with me, myself and no eye for company, for Frog Boy had long departed in search of adventures new. It was with a sad heart he left me all alone in the grunge, but I understood his stool. He is a child of the light. A bringer of light to dark places, not just for me, but for others who had been banished from where they once called 'Home' and where once home had called them 'Mine'. In this blanket solitude, I confused myself with me and had an argument over a saddle. "A saddle and no horse?", I thought...Yes, no horse...how strange.
Notes from a dark, dark hole: Part 4 - The Spillage
Life became a dreary, drudgery of droning dullness. Not a sound was uttered - neither garbled, not spoke - by anyone, two, three, four, five, once I caugt a fish alive. The day began as it ended - in silence. Old Mother Goose gandered on and on about the goldeness and wot-not-wot of silence, but to me...in that place...well...It wasn't fun, I can tell ya. Occasionally, I would peak through the iron bars of my bondage and catch a glimpse of a ball yet caught. It was like watching a rainbow fall from it's lofty peak into the ether from whence it came. This life was no life, but bark on bark and tooth of tale. It seemed inhuman to cast my being into such a vacuous pit, but such is the need of little people, with big positions..."Assert thy authority! Make an example! Don't delay, what you can do today!" - this is the mantra of that sort. Such a shame that power in the hands of an whisp becomes a sting in the tale of a wasp. Corruption and incompetance walking hand in hand, while stars crawl foot to foot on a dirty floor! The spillage occured during recess. I dropped an egg out of my cup. It broke. The egg that is. The cup was/is fine, thanks for asking come again.
Notes from a dark, dark hole: Part 5 - The Quaffle
"Stootin' Tuesdays when all is went-up and blimped"...This was the kind of thought that would pervade the crevices of my mind. It was like a drunken drill infatuated with the sound of it's own monotony as it bore away into the duldrums divine. Such utter consistency made my monkey sore and my fingers even more starched. I needed escape, but here I was slapped and bound between an idiot and a renegade! What life is this, that binds the beauty of being with the bell of bucolically? Prevarication was never an option in the face of their blight. They wanted nothing from me, but my silence and my movement. They had both for a while, but in the end I am free and they are still slaves to their laws and patrons to their 'peace'. Some hopes rise and fall with the tides, but theirs is a nothingness that can not be broken by sun, sea or saviour. Life like that is undeserving of the word. Trill me, fish me, fillet me - you will never fully berate me.
Notes from a dark, dark hole: Part 6 - Margarita Time!
With such slow suddenness that it would have confused the hare and the tortise, my life in the box of my revery became brighter and altogether more illuminated. The reason for such a sequence of diffusion can be attributed to the arbitrary nature of my nurture: I was one of the few born inside a martini glass that was close to over-flowing with margarita and all things Tequila. Gold, naturally...From this liquid birth, to my liquid rebirth during 'Margarita Time', I became less ensconced with my previous surroundings and delved deeper into the truculent circle that I found myself a victim of...Such bouts of self-discovery rewarded me with merriment and a severe case of the wibble-wobbles. Such is life, thought I..."Trick-truck!
Notes from a dark, dark hole: Part 7 - The Bacchanalian Frenzy
Twisted tops and twinned towns of tomorrow didn't head the horn of hope calling through the blustery winds of the valley's vibrating rhythm. It was with Dionysian delight I delected to divulge my duty to those despotic dullards who confirmed their cruelty by the contradiction of the claims! Oh and how! Such drivel delighted the drones who drove on and downwards to their deity's dungeon. "Follow the filth!" thought one and all with the mighty conviction of corruption and the ceasing of civility...The tide ebbed and flowed in the cauldron of their vacuous minds as I, your heretic hero, hobbled half-harmed and hopeless. The barrage of their brainless brutality bruised and bludgeoned the believers whilst demonstrating even more distaste for the deserters...Amid the atrocities of the doomed, I, alone stood...The summoning of their tumultuous torment neither blackened my beauty nor dissolved my desire. Who am I to question the moronic nature of 'man', when all I hold in my possession is the perception of their ridicule? Oh well, I'll take a melon and proscuitto salad, thanks.
Notes from a dark, dark hole: Part 8 - The Golden Ratio
"Trig, Trig, Trig...BOOOOOM!", Said The Pyramid. The Pyramid, through a course of self-deprecation, had acquiesced with my attractive attributes to the point of a mutual affinity. "All is as was and forever will be" was one of his favorite sayings. Many times he would couple it with a slight in-take of breath through his teeth which sounded like a rabbit blowing bubbles through a blade of freshly plucked grass...Ahhhh, those were the sounds sent from Mana! From within, to without...Much of my mind's eye was trained to focus on the far as it flirted with the fear of all thigns too near. At a distance it could discern, whilst a close proximity left it feeling rather deflated by the piercing nature of my current palpability...I knew that in time, my real reverie would return...But still...I waited for that time. Waiting was all that I could do while I wallowed in that well of impoundment. Slip me a fish and I'll make us a BBQ to broil it on.
The final part goes something like this...
Notes from a dark, dark hole: Part 9 - The Fin
Fin-fin-fin, fin fin-fin fin. Fin? Fin-fin. Fin!
Fin. [/B]
Woah. That shit is the shit. It's the shit. The shit. That's it.
It always amazes me how people are able to start arguments wherever they can and they always seem to get out of control. Whether it's in real life by yelling or shouting in some ones face or throwing fists or sitting comfortably hidden away in secrecy and anonymity behind a computer screen, it just always amazes me how people are able to find a way to hate and argue with each other instead of having healthy discussions or differences of opinions. And then the so called 'police' steps in just like in real life and punishes you. Ridiculous!
If you can't have healthy discussions and express differences of opinions, whatever they might be, on a message board then where the hell else are you suppose to do it?
It's pretty sad 🙁 and somewhat pathetic and It boggles the mind, really!
Why can't we be more progressive about these things as human beings?
Why does everything always have to go to hell?