My Guilty Pleasures

I have two legal, guilty pleasures: pickels and Gummie Bars. Both are fatal if injested by me due to the fact that I usually eat the entire bag or the entire bottle, then drink the brine. I am sick and I like pain.

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I Have Found My Gift!!!

I know my gift! Every piece of technology I touch I brake! And when I say brake, I mean shit unlike anything you, or the people who have designed and built the technology, has ever seen!
I am awesome gifted!
/wrist.

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Curse=Blessing?

I have just wondered something to myself.  Do you believe that every curse also comes with a blessing?  For example, The Curse of the Mayan Treasure from Pirates of The Caribbean cursed those who stole from the Mayan's an eternal pain.  Though they may be immortal and invulnerable, they could never slate their lust for food or for the pleasures of the flesh.  They could do what ever they wanted with no penalty, only the eternal pain.

That is what I mean when I say I believe every curse has a blessing laying somewhere within it.  So my question is, what is my blessing?

I have everything I care about taken from me and decimated before my broken, fractured mind.  I thought I could be a writer and I was wrong, I thought I could be a Photographer and I was wrong... and I thought I could be a lover, a soulmate... and I was WRONG.

I destroy everything I care about, that is my curse, so what is my blessing?  Do I even have one? Or is the nature of my curse enough to destroy that ever so precious gift?  Or perhaps I am not meant to know what it is, for if I were ever to know, I would destroy it.  But then, the question is, will I ever be allowed to have this gift?  Will I ever be allowed to use it, or is it so subtle that it really does not matter and thus, I will never know what it is?

Perhaps I am wrong, perhaps there are some curses so fiendish that they cannot offer any blessing, any gifts... They are simply so evil or so simple, they destroy and decimate.

Or perhaps my curse is, in fact, my gift and blessing.  Maybe my purpose on this planet is to be the chaos and the wrench that fujunks up the entire system.

Perhaps I am Chaos and Calamity.  I am Death and Undeath.  I am The End and The Final.  I am never a Beginning and I am never a Hope.  I am the Faith That Dies In Your Soul and The Pain That Lives In Your Hart.  I am Burning and I am Burying.  I Rape Happy and Murder Joy.  I Destroy Normality and I Create Unease.

I am The Fear of Truth

I am The Proof of Reality

I am The Honesty of Shadows

And I am forever The Chaos of Order and Law.

I am That Nothing.

Just A Test To See If It Works.

Just trying a new app on my iPhone to post mobile to my blog.

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a quote from my brain!

"Soon is forever to an eternity."

This is my Beginning for The End.

Here within... or perhaps, here... above... below?  Oh wait! I know!

Here with-on this blog I shall rant on all aspects of my life... from the processes of being a writer... or rather "creative suggestive engineer" to the aspects of being a photographer with little to no talent, but more within my head then the world could ever hold.  I shall rant of the joys of being a screen writer and in time, hopefully, a director. That is, when I am not cutting myself deep in the abdomen, in a desperate attempt at realizing that though I bleed, I can not die, for my co-writer would steal my soul and entomb it within a pickle bottle.

I have bipolar syndrome, split personality, and I am pretty sure I am part crazy, at least one of the personalities is a nut job.  So at any moment I may snap and write something completely uncharacteristic, however I see a problem with that statement... If I have split persona, then is it still uncharacteristic to write something that still comes from my mind?  Which character is the normal and which is the false?  Keep reading and who knows, we both might find out.

So I suppose, in summery, I am living proof that all great artists hate themselves and are absolutely bat-shit, nuts in a basket, jump off a bridge, play in traffic, crazy, and apparently self-centered and narcissistic.

"And, here... we... go."

      ---Joker---