lastmanofgondor's Journal

12:59PM

( Messiah's sermon to the downtrodden. )

"We are warriors in the twilight of man."

"Rage against the dying of a light."
We are certainly trying.We are certainly fighting those demons who would devour us whole. Those of us whose weakness is hopelessness, despair; we face this fading light with worry and trepidation, because we fear weakness of heart and of character. We see the corrosion and infirmity of those who stand beside us or who would lead us. And we flicker.

In the failing days of man, what would we do?

Those of us whose hearts are tied to the hearts of others, we see the pestilent and the parasitic, and they attack us. We are swallowed by the men who have walked in darkness. And we are left as husks, hollowed and consumed. And we ponder if we have souls. Look at the soulless, and we will see that we do.

I try to stand on the frontline of shadow and I try to rage against the onslaught of the soulless. But my heart wavers because I know the hearts of some have already been turned.

2:06AM

( Abijah's monologue )

1:58PM

( My friend and I are doing a comic book. This is a portion of it before anything has been submitted to my friend (who is an artist and takes care of that kind of stuff). It's not edited, and it's a rough draft. The premise is that a man takes on the role of messiah in a temporary capacity, because technically the physical role of messiah is vacant until JC returns. Essentially, it's a story about someone coming into a situation and being completely overwhelmed at the corruption and decay of modern society. Obviously it's set in a ficitonal city, and the effects of modern society are shown kind of in their worst cases, but whatever. As I mentioned, this is a first draft without any editing, so there are some problems with tenses and whatnot at certain points. I hope you can look beyond that. )

2:27PM

( Rambling. )







Interesting, eh?

4:26PM

( Several months of writing. )


Well, that was fun.

10:44PM

( FuckxDying )

1:49PM

Minutes to hours, and hours to days
Our lives have become dominated by a clock.

Work at 3:00
Home at 11:00
Sleep at 1:00
Wake at 10:00

As the clock turns, so do our lives repeat.
As time's wheel spins, we become further mired in this myth of time.
We need not fret over machines, they can be destroyed.
We need not fret over computers, they can be re-programmed.
What we need worry about is Time, Time is our greatest foe.

Time is the enemy.
Smash the hour, destroy the week.

8:51PM

I gave you a shout to see what you were up to, but you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself.
No problem really, because we all have bad days.
but you’ve made it seem like you’ve had a bad life,
writing epics in black ink on black paper about whatever your latest failure might be.

I wondered if you spent too much time by yourself, but you’ve got melodrama to keep you company.
If It wasn’t one thing it was another, and if it wasn’t another, it was something else,
and you always added it in as another chapter in your novel of disappointment.
Too bad there’s nothing novel about your never-ending pit of despair.

Recently though, you’ve made strides. I thought you had anyway.
At first there was a newfound sense of humour. Your jokes might not all have been funny, but hey, whose are?
Then you kind of developed some balls. It was really nice seeing you not let people walk all over you.
But when you’ve been friends as long as we have been, you can tell when something’s legit or not.

The middle ages kind of reminded me of this circumstance:
Spices covering up rancid meat.
You hadn’t addressed the situation at all.
It seems as though Cliche (who else would it be?) Had invaded your life.
Cover up the problem by the problem by being posi.
Yeah, real clever. Another novel and innovative chapter in your intensely original and creative story.

And in the final few chapters you had planned a grand and luxurious exit.
This ending would be different though.
You were determined not to be mired in mediocrity or cliche.
Your magnum opus was almost finished,
Your grave fucking work of lifelong tragedy was at a head:
One part pills, one part booze.
One winning combination, and one you’d be remembered for.

Here’s the epilogue for that particular edition:
In a life that was one mistake after another, and missed opportunity after missed opportunity,
You couldn’t even do this right.
Fuck you.
Fuck you for trying.

But now it looks like you’ve started to turn things around, and this time you really have come up with a novel idea: living and learning.
I can’t wait to read this story through.

8:40PM

From waking moments to fluttering eyes,
what you want from me (for me) is just too much.
As oppressive as staring down the barrel of a shotgun, oppressive as the slaveowner's whip.
My love, my heart,
it feels like you'veb een killing me for years.
It feels like you've butchered me and left me for the vultures.
Brokenhearted? You could only wish that's what I was talking about.
No, my dear, I'm not brokenhearted. I'm no sobbing fool who's been crushed by unrequited love.
My love, my heart,
you and I are two sides of the same coin.
You and I are two halves of the phoenix. You are burned out, broken, and falling from the sky. I am blazing brightly, reborn and soaring to the heavens.
Too bad that we will never see each other.
Too bad that we will never be together, but that might be for the best.

2:36AM

( Unfinished and random pieces )

2:24AM - Storms

We act so surprised, like this snuck up on us.
So shocked and so stunned that things could actually be this bad.
I wish I could say that I had an idea, an inkling about this, but I'm through with lying.
I had no clue we were this far along.
"Let's turn around."
Turn around? It's too late to turn around.
Too fucking little and too fucking late.
We've all shown up here a day late and a dollar short,
and for the longest time we've steaded ourselves upon myth and steeled our minds with cliches.
No, there's no turning back. We can't kiss and make up.
Look ahead, you can see it coming, there's not much gas left in the tank. We've come out for for wear and on the wrong end of this deal.
Heaven for Hell.
Even the worst gambler is laughing.
Even Judas wouldn't have made that trade.
Heaven for Hell.

2:05AM - Landmark

I saw you.
I was ankle deep in water, bailing for my life.
You never really understand how heavy water is until you're fighting it.
But you were there. You never faltered, you never wavered. You were my rock, my north star.
"The ebb and flow of tides is just as constant."
It feels like I'm swimming against the current.
"Don't worry, not too much longer."
Oh my dear, my love. If only I could make some headway. If only I could keep this water from rising.
You're there, so that in itself is a consolation of sorts, but I can't tell if that is a coy smile on your face or if it is a smirk on the verge of laughter.
"You can't fight Newton and really expect to win, can you?"
That's the sort of question that makes me wish you were here instead of there.
That's the sort of question that makes me wish we were both here bailing out water.
You had to go and bring in physics to show me just how futile my situation really is.
Despite all your flaws, you were right about one thing; at this rate it won't be too much longer.

12:48PM

"I love you," she says.
"My heart is yours," she says.
Gritting teeth and clenching fists.
"This ring signifies our bond," she said.
"This oath binds us till the end," she said.
Deadset eyes and whispered words.
"I'm sorry," she'll say.
"I didn't mean this to happen," she'll say.
Pallid features, ice cold skin.

12:45PM

Your jaws snap like the hungry wolf's.
Your eyes gleam like the rabid dog's.
Bark, dog, bark.
Make us tremble in fear,
gnash your jaws
bare your fangs.
You are a dime a dozen.
Wild animals like you are forgotten,
your bite easily cured.
A bullet between your fucking eyes.
My bite is no bark. My bite is death.
Bark, dog.
Fucking bark.

1:48AM

My tongue has grown sharp as of late.
My words have cut like scythes.
The keener my tongue becomes, the duller my heart grows.
What I say is right.
What I say is true.
What I say is just.
You deserve this. The one who took my heart.
You deserve this. The harlot who stole my soul.
You deserve this. The whore who spurs me on.
My words are swords and they cry out for blood.

9:21PM

I've seen it in your eyes
You're wlaking to the narrow path, the Golden Path.
Yours is the path of the humble, the path of the saintly.
You follow in the footsteps of the divine.
Yours is the road of self-sacrifice
The road of the Righteous, of hte sacrosanct.

You walk the path of irony.
You sing your own praises and declare yourself a martyr for your choices
Your songs cloud your ears, your vanity blinds your eyes.
Many have walked your path before
Many will walk your path after
Many share it with you
Continue on your golden way
March to Pandaemonium.

4:02PM

( Fuck Dying/Our Struggle Shared )

3:58PM

Repent. Come clean.
The end is nigh.
We're seeing dark days and darker nights
We're seeing black hearts and blacker souls.
The naive and innocent are gone. We lost them first
It's only us left; the crude, the godless.
We can smell that stench.
Fire. Ash.
The False Prophet is here, and he sings to us.
Let our hearts beat with what little strength they have left.
Our days are few, the end times have begun.

3:36AM - Better, I guess.

I won the silent war you waged
I emerged victorious from these fires.
I hardbour no ill will because I know my decisions were just. I do not need facts or figures to stuff my shirt. I do not need tales of heroes or songs of glory. Praise need not be given because none is wanted.
I will not cross that bridge again. It may not be burned but the land on the other side is barren. I have no desire to return.
Now leave me be while I bury my fallen heroes.

3:31AM

( Not very good... )