rahmin-n8dle

[rahmin-n8dle]

I swear to god, being that narcissistic asshole in your head all day coupled with having bad bosses will always be better than any writing prompt in the world.

What you are is a shark, right? An apex predator that laughs cancer in the face, that conceals it’s eyes with third eyelids when it goes in for the kill. You’re sleek and grayish and deadly, and that’s fine.

Just know that I am also a shark. I am immense, in size and ego and intellect, and yet I am lazier; I move so slow in the water, but mass often does. By the good graces of nature, I am given an evolutionary gift of tricking other sharks into believing my open maw looks, smells and acts precisely like blood in open water.

Look into my murky eyes. What do you smell?

[rahmin-n8dle]

I will seep soft oily sap over my soulskin, pierced and broken, until that salve softens the surface and emboldens me to be struck yet again. The scar will be searing and I swear that my years in solitude will show my blossom has grown green in virtue and strength. My rage of youth will be my implement of drive; and that which is a tool will no longer be making use of me, so that I can plow my field and plant the seed without fear that they lay fallow. I will walk in snow and rain to the edge of the stone-riddled path and sit on a rock and stare. I will stand and walk once more. I will stay when I must, and go when I can, and eventually I will leave everything when the trail I blaze has been explored to my best ability. When I grow weary that my discoveries will lead to nothing, I will look forward and see those before me finally laying in the grass, breathing last. I will look behind to those making new connections, having branched away from the path I tirelessly tread. Hopefully, at that time I will be able to smile. I will eat and drink and fight the lull and navigate the frenzy like so many scattered torrents on the sea; mist that covers my vision will only bring more vigilance and experience to my eyes. I am captain, I am that force that threatens to stay despite struggle, and my Jihad will be inside me. I will not try to defeat it, as I had tried and failed so many times. It will live within me and it, too, will become an impetus for my forward momentum. I will swing, forth and through, jump and land in gravel or fall and find myself dusted and scraped at the knees. In both cases, I will stand. Demons are not friends, and I have no power to deter them except for want of goodness and completion. Contented with a past, confronted with what may or may not come into fruition; I climb up and through and over, and up again. Around the bend, I will stop and lay down in the tall grass besides my many trails and i, too, will breathe last.

[rahmin-n8dle]

On the hot seat,

melting thin ice,

Tithing the ferryman,

Fiend, name the price,

Pitch black ground,

Hotter than peat,

Dancing merrimen,

They circle ‘round,

they will suffice,

Now we must bury man,

Make use of the meat

[rahmin-n8dle]

Inexperienced vampires give me a rush, sucking away the blush in my cheeks but not the pink of my lips, nor my rosy fingertips. They try all they like but they have yet to know how to puncture with finality; I await the day. I’ll teach them how to tie their ties, because watching them try is wounding in its own way. We wash their hands, scrub the tears from their eyes and brush viscera from their beautiful teeth. Go have fun, little ones. Watching them practice is incredible. Struggling to grasp, to clasp, to entrap and enthrall and seduce, and they all lose patience and temper all at once and skulk away. But I still await the day they learn better. Then, they can finally absorb us, unflinchingly, and send us all to hell where we belong.

[rahmin-n8dle]

Imperfections make us beautiful. It’s true. I once fell deeply in love with a girl. She was intelligent and empathetic and she was broken, just like me. I loved everything about her. Even her teeth, which were as they were, naturally hers, albeit not the typical set of teeth when you see a celebrity’s glistening chompers. Fact: except in rare cases, our obsession with having our teeth straightened is purely cosmetic; we do it because we want symmetry, we want perfection, just like everyone else. This girl, however, whether by choice or by circumstance, had the teeth she was given and she bared them to the world, and nothing was more beautiful to me than her smile. That’s what imperfections were made for. My teeth were messed up too, even though I had braces. I was hit in the face with a basketball once and it chipped my teeth so badly that I had to have my teeth ground down so they didn’t cause more chipping. It’s not perfect, and I’m perfectly fine with that. That’s what imperfections exist for. They were made for us to bare to one another, to share the stories of our scars, as well as our vices. If we hide behind manufactured smiles forever, we will eventually forget how frail we really are, and how pertinent it is to be ourselves. If all we work toward is the false perfection we want others see us as, when they discover the truth about what we really are, both ourselves and our society have nothing to compare us too but feigned perfection. So embrace yours and others’ imperfections, they’re the reason we all stand out, and they tell the stories of us, one smile at a time.

[rahmin-n8dle]

The only reason that I am alone and free, in the corner of my room, is because I thought off and fought of my last fiendish demon.

[rahmin-n8dle]

Coca Colas: meh!

Pepsis: no, bleh!

Me, a Dr. Pepper: You fools. You absolute imbeciles. How could you have fallen for this ridiculous false dichotomy? In choosing a “side” you neglected the clear and obvious victor!

Also me, actually a Dr. Thunder/generic brand:

*silence* *everyone leaves, just me and my troubles stooped over in the abandoned, cold room*

(I hide my shame! I thirst for the halcyon days of the greatest Doctor, that divine spice I crave, the 23 flavors! I can almost taste them now, but for naught; they are but a mirage in a desert full of Dr. Shasta! The Pibb looks at me, malice in its eyes. Woe is me, a high-fructose king, torn from that carbonated throne from which I once sat! Doctor, my Doctor, why hast thou forsaken your truest acolyte?! What cruel world must I live in, that you be that of an effervescent spectre, sneaking-nay, haunting-my taste buds in each gulp yet! Six, Seven, Eight flavors; these imposters be damned! Where are the sacred Twenty-Three once promised to me?! Agh! I am become Tantalus himself! I slurp but my thirst is never sated, I reach for the shining, amber hand of my Doctor, always just barely out of reach! His arm is forever outstretched, all twenty-three blessed fingers splayed, ready to take my cold, bubbly hand! I brush them, only to be forced back into the brackish, fizzing river of falsehood! Oh, the agony I must bear! For shame! For Shame!!!)

Mtn Dew, rising up from behind my shoulder, lips pursed and cartoonishly jutting, and drawing near the corners of my vision:

I have a deal for you, boy... I can offer you comfort in your strife! I can take you far away, to an oasis free of the pain! Beaches filled with aquamarine sea foam! The nectar of the gods themselves! All you have to do, is pull up to your nearest Taco Bell 😈

[rahmin-n8dle]

Tape

I found myself very seriously contemplating tape the other day.

In fact, I thought of an idea. Glow in the dark duct tape. Don’t know why, I just did. It could serve so many wonderful uses!

Then I thought, maybe there’s some potentiality for pun there.

As of right now, I’m in the dark. I guess we’ll see if something sticks.

[rahmin-n8dle]

Frankly my feeling is frenzied, I am enexorably engaged in the elongated eldritch eyewells, while whitening wanderers give great gifts of overturning obelisks, and all I can recall is a small and thin wire entrapped in my own skin, connected like circuitry, firing into the inner origin, the fleshy filaments spanning out and spilling out and slipping salmon meanwhile make monumental movement from shore to stream and all I do is dream of such progress.

[rahmin-n8dle]

I hate seafood

I need to find a truer scent of rain, the pungent kind without a human stain,

primordial wisps of smoke is my desire, and what’s more, no steel, flint, or hint of man made fire,

Prometheus be damned, you curse the wicked beast, the thing that you call man takes land on which he starts to feast,

To speak it is one thing, to do it yet another, but will we leave food at the fire for our starving brother?

Cain is just a man, but his pebble had enAbled, now future generations think that murder is a fable,

you think I think I’m clever, but i know I’m just a tongue, no leverage, they’ll sever it, the Word escapes the lung,

My brain feels like a puzzle, the pieces have gone missing, I’ll fake it lay my stakes upon the hind of life I’m kissing,

“wow that’s so deep, who knew you’d have it in you?”

I’m just a stupid carnivore, and fish is on the menu,

I hate seafood

[rahmin-n8dle]

I am an animal in the zoo. Most animals in the zoo are completely comfortable with their exhibits, and those that aren’t are sedated and made docile. I am looking at my chicken wire and cement walls and told to think of it less as a trap and more as a “cage-ortunity”

[rahmin-n8dle]

Tonight's lesson in restraint is proving to be a difficult one, and I desperately want to fail