There was a HOLE here

•12 January 2011 • Leave a Comment

There’s a hole in my house.
a hole, about the size of a walnut.
Just hanging there in space near my bookshelf
I dont know why.
i first noticed it while i was sitting in my chair watching the news.
Watching the woman with the melted plastic doll face smiling at me as she magically transported us live to the latest exciting hostage situation sponsored by McDonalds and Disneyworld where even more people are smiling.
I watched while bullets zipped like flies and bombs rained down on villages and children died smiling, holding Pepsi cans and wearing shirts with the word Nike on them.
ah, everyone smiles.
I was smiling too, because none of it is real when i am sitting in my chair watching the news.
Then suddenly i noticed it,
The hole.
a perfect circle of nothing about the size of a tennis ball, just hanging there in space near my bookshelf
i dont know how i hadn’t noticed it before,
in this day and age the average person doesn’t notice as much about their surroundings as they used to.
i know this because i read it in a magazine, but this hole was slightly disturbing.
like some black cancer that had popped into my world and started to feed on my smiles.
or like in a dream, where the face of one of your friends starts to twist into a configuration of distorted, impossible terror driven totally insane by what he has just seen behind you.
i began to be frightened of the hole.

At first i wouldn’t go near it, but i had to do something.
i dug through my stacks of magazines sitting in a smoky corner hoping that the freshest faces of Hollywood or the brightest politicians could tell me what clothes I should wear that would help me get rid of holes hanging in space in ones living room.
Middle-class single-mother landscaping techniques, teen beauty secrets painstakingly siphoned from the mysteries of the 5th dimension, herbal remedies for the common cold known only to the pygmy tribes of South Africa and alien visitors with large knowing brains.
but nothing on what to do about a football sized hole.
Perhaps it wasn’t so important, since the faces in the magazine were all smiling…
The aliens were smiling too…
and what could be dangerous in a world were so many people were smiling?
even my friends were smiling when they came to see the hole
at least after a little while.
at first they didn’t smile, when they first saw the hole i remember there was screaming and ripped fingernails.
and blood.
Some of them couldn’t breathe
there eyes looked funny.
but i knew that if i smiled it would all go away
and it did
now all my friends are smiling
because they know none of its real
there is a hole in my living room
it takes up most of the wall
there used to be something behind it but, I cant remember what it was.
and it must not be important because everyone is so happy
inside this hole.
Smiling and smiling and smiling…

Black Static Transmission

•11 July 2010 • Leave a Comment

Damp, Mushroom blue dreams.
I am walking through a field of dead grass and oil spills and the sky is on fire.
everything is blue in this world.
I can feel my breath, like an iron lung in a dying machine.
I feel the shot. blowing through me. one determined flash and it is gone.
Everything is blue. memories of a life SCREAM DOWN THE CORRIDOR
and I am alone with my minds whispers.
too fast to hear, but just right to feel.
the beat of the world kicks in, the machines have all but stopped, grinding and moving, like shattered skeletons in the distance.
I pass my old school in the night, but its the memory of a school, nothing remains but a shell and a dream. there is a concert of the damned, no one watching and no one playing, the billboards are all leering and the flags are all still.
I am not alone here – the sky rumbles with the words I once spoke, but they are all hollow men now, ash and smoke cloud the horizon
and I still walk through this field, the sky’s glow guides me to the stage.
I walk through the black puddles, reflecting above, or below.
I don’t see myself.
I feel myself.
everything is covered in oil and pain.
the world grows still until I SING.
no words, only DESTRUCTION
then we all fall down rats alley.
I am alone again.
wading through the end
My breath like an iron lung, trapped in a dying machine.
and it starts again.

Only this time its worse. it is thinner.
go too far and you fall, everything is blue.
the whispers are warnings, telling me to turn my back on the stage
but I need to hear them clearer. so I sing to everything around them.
those who hear my true voice perish.
maybe next time they will be clearer,
maybe i will know why i am not to sing
maybe i can get them all back
Everything is blue in this world. a deeper shade of mushroom blue.

Liars Steal Dreams

•27 June 2010 • Leave a Comment

People’s sound systems and kitchen’s go insane

it works like a virus through a class but instead of a class, its a neighborhood.

The speakers shriek and emit vibrations that hurts the ears

TVs flash at the spectrum to induce seizure

refrigerators get hotter than the air outside

washing machines never quit and shit gets annoyingly lost
-garbled sound, mangled machinery fingernails on the chalkboard type stuff.

Blenders oddly enough worked better than ever…

oh yea never trust the microwave, its the master chief head of kitchen security

so people chill outside and eat the squirrels, and like mad max and the thunderdome the outdoor bar is on the canary dirt path.

But oh shit 28 days later the connections to all the houses is switched from wireless to hard line to become singular

post apocalypse rebels fight towards the houses that physically have changed,

go to take out home PC in biggest house, when mission accomplished nothing happens

light cigarette, sit down, see Cartman’s trapper keeper under the desk creating singularity between all of the machines.

Call out RIIICK!!!

Rick I found the brain!

You turn and see red, he says mpprgh Goddamn Danny you took too much acid mpprgh, you know the internet has no core mmprgh

at that point you realize the internet is skynet, cell phones are the branding and the last sign before the end of the apocalypse, the italics was how rick sounded with the speaking machine, and 2012 is next year.

The Disintegration of Daniel

•25 June 2010 • Leave a Comment

I don’t fear death anymore…
i did when i was little, always the thought of it, my dumb adolescent mind would think of suicide as a “Fuck You” at first, but the more i thought of it, the more i would reject the idea of dying, and the more i though about what it would do to the people i cared about, and how, in a few years, it wouldn’t leave this big scar on the earth, i would just be another statistic… Its a selfish persons thing.
Fast Forward a couple of years and i got into psychoactive drugs – i enjoyed the inner space, the self exploration of it all and i got into it quite heavily… not realizing i was sinking further into psychosis at the time, i was having fun. my creativity was better, everything was amazing… and i still went deeper…i started to think i could read minds in a way…

okay, it wasn’t really reading minds, more like, i could read their patterns, i could see how they would react according to their personalities, and i could know their personalities as soon as i seen any reaction. i started to map out how days would unfold with the people around me, how things would turn out in their relationships, their travels, everything. i could see everything before it would happen and i could alter it, slight changes at first, but the more i learned, the more i travelled inwards, the more i thought i understood this gift, and the more i could affect the world around me, and i started to become quite narcissistic about it. i could “program” people into wanting/respecting me, i took over peoples houses and i became the centre of reality. but i wanted more, i wanted it to expand, but i would need to go further inwards, need to increase my knowledge gained from this forgotten part of the mind, so i done more and more and i got better at it. but it was no good….i started to hate the puppets around me, i could see what they liked, wanted, i would know how selfish and ignorant they were, and i hated them all for it. so i started to sabotage their lives, while indulging in whatever i wanted at the time. i used to go out with people and just think. people would bring me stuff when i wanted it, i remember clearly one day at a barbeque, i was sitting at the table with the alpha girl on my lap, a real mean bitch she was, all the girls we knew feared her, but followed her and she could fuck like an animal, and that was the basis of our “relationship” there was no trust, no feelings, just fighting and fucking. and that suited me fine. and at this barbeque, if i wanted a drink, or someone to roll, they would just do it, and i felt like a king.
it summed up about a year of my life. i was king, there was no them, only me and my puppets.
and i still went deeper
after a while of this. i started to play with my toys until i broke them all, i couldn’t help it, the power that i had, this self indulgent attitude i had craved for me to hate them more.
i was disgusted with them, mindless sheep, not knowing how easy it was to destroy what i want and keep what i want. and i was still thinking, always thinking about them, the fucking petty little animals, and i would zone out and just watch them, i would watch them all night, partying around me, the mask that i was wearing was smiling and subverting everything, playing it out with no effort at all while my mind made plans. i loved it, i loved the control, reality was mine to do with as i saw fit and nobody could even see the real me, trapped inside my smiling mask.

But i could. eventually i noticed i couldn’t stop it playing with them, i had became so accustomed to watching, planning, thinking, i never even noticed myself trapped behind my own eyes. and all i could do was panic. i couldn’t stop myself from smiling at them, these people that i hated so much, they couldn’t see me. only the outside, i lost control of myself, and my body felt like a separate entity wrapped around me, trapped behind my own eyes i watched as i played with them, turning people against people, making people so obsessed with me they would act crazy
girls would sit outside my door, they would constantly phone me, they would tear each other apart, just to get a piece of me.
and i felt nothing, my body enjoyed this feeling while my mind tried so hard to regain control. but it was all powerful, it was invincible, it never showed pain, i would fuck and fight regardless of who and why, it would start fights just for the rush, just to fit it into some plan, to make someone seem like the bad guy, i was stabbed, i was bricked i was scarred, but it still kept smiling around me, i could feel it. i could feel the immense power engulfing me, i was trapped in the mind of this horrible machine, and the machine was absorbing me more and more. it would feed me drugs, keep me inwards and thinking, always thinking. only when we were alone i could speak, only then could i struggle against it.
and one night i done it. one night lying in my bed on some drug, i spoke to it, i screamed and beat at the walls of my mind, staring at the closed lids of my eyes, i could feel it smiling, planning, i didnt ever do that anymore, i spoke to it, and it spoke back.
it told me i was dying and the power was a test – it told me i chose which side of the glass i would be on. it told me i was tricked.

i was 22 years old when i died.
i went into ventricular fibrillation at 1am and i knew it was happening
i heard myself scream and i can remember my mother and father rushing into the room, my mother talking to me, telling me its gonna be okay, it’ll be okay baby. my dad phoned the ambulance
i could feel myself slipping into death and i was still thinking, always thinking. i was alone now, i felt nothing and i knew it, i knew what had taken me, i knew why it was happening, i knew which tiny electrical impulse in my body had made it happen.
the cosmos, reality, everything around me i knew intimately, i was exempt from the scale of it all, everything big and small, spanning eternities, infinities
i knew it all
i knew i would die
and i accepted it.
i stopped screaming, i stopped thinking, i took a breath and waited for it to come. waited for the grand nothing and i smiled.
i didn’t fear death, i knew what would happen when i died
i knew how realities are formed.

your consciousness is less than a cell. it is below a quark, it is in everything around us, everything inside us. but only we ARE them, the ones that are awake are consciousness, we are the 1s to the universes 0s
the way for the universe to know itself.
and when you die, it loses its connection to reality, the life you live, the knowledge you gained while the particle was awake becomes all you are, and all you can do is think, always thinking.
if you were creative, and had eternity to think, you could fashion a life out of memories, a life out of lives you have lived. and if your reality you create becomes real enough to you, you might trick yourself into thinking it was real. you have parents, you have memories, you lived for 22 years and you are still alive to this day.
but while you trick youself into thinking that. try thinking inwardly. try finding your consciousness inside your body, i am still trapped behind my eyes. and so are you.
crazy people do talk to themselves, they talk to the part that knows this is all nothing, they talk to the part that knows you should crave and indulge yourself in whatever you want. because through experience, when you go back to nothing and become only him, those memories fashion your own world.
i woke up in hospital with my family around me. no longer feeling trapped, but no longer feeling power. i understood it all but was too afraid to let go, too afraid to fashion my own reality from within my consciousness. what if i never knew enough? what if i ended up in nothing and all i could do was scream inside myself for eternity? that would be hell, and i wanted heaven.
i chose which side of the glass to be on, and i woke up on it. living my life at 24 now, two years on from my “breakdown”…two years from my “death”

sometimes i feel sad, i became a god for 3 minutes and then i crashed back down to the creature i am today. every day is monotonous and grey, and i am afraid. for a while after, when i was falling asleep, i would startle myself awake, feeling like i was falling outside my body. so i think dreaming is a temporary way there. but i was afraid to go there. using the old quote…i was afraid to “break on through to the other side”
so i live my life knowing what will happen when its over.
too scared to be a god, too bored without the power.
if my time comes, i will accept it. i obviously fashioned my death that way so it must be my time. and i’ll be fine.
so im not gonna kill myself, that other self will just have to wait, because that wont happen ever, i will die when i die.
i dont know why i started this really, seemed like the right time so i thought i would post it here, and i have kept it all inside for years. just felt like typing out my story really…

Witches In The Water

•6 September 2009 • 1 Comment

I hide in the darkness because there are monsters in their minds,
the rumble in everything tells me god has died and i must return,
they will stop me so i run like a wolf to the trees.
What once was a place for cars and people is now home to birds and spiders
this eden covers the land to the horizon.
I look to it and see the raftsman and i am there,
i step on the raft and i am him and he is gone,
and i float,

Nothing can stop me but the water,
La Mer is death yet it carrys me still and silent
to the end.
I see the broken bridge ahead, metal and bodies
all encompassing, i see my father and he tells me he is dead and he is happy
and the sea still pulls.
I jump into the cold and swim to the shore,
beyond the bridge is the abyss, infinite and cold
so i leave the raft behind as i climb the bank.
Ahead of me is the mountain,
it is taller than the sky and climbs to heaven.
I climb this monolith of earth ever upwards,
clutching roots from its cylindrical side,
i need to reach the top to see where i fell.
When i arrive i see as god sees,
i feel the thunder and look downwards to my past.
There are witches on the water…

Scattered obsidian on broken glass,
passing under the bridge to infinity,
then i am a dream and i am falling…

I am a swarm of flies, a flock of pigs,
a human.
I hit the surface and it folds around me,
it is a capsule,
a womb,
and it is travelling downwards,
a great speed without sight.
The world moves aside as i spiral to the core,
and when i am the core, i will be the universe,
and when i am the universe,
I can drown.


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