|Nothing in particular.|
Nietzsche Contemplates the Meaning of ChristmasNietzsche eyed the gaudy Christmas decorations. The pressure of providing all the people he knew with gifts weighed heavily and he once more wondered what the point of it all was.Nietzsche Contemplates the Meaning of Christmas by Vocable
Around him were people like him, shopping for Christmas gifts to show the people they knew they cared about them. But unlike him, they were constantly in motion, shoving against each other, searching and purchasing. The shopping mall was filled and Nietzsche felt he was the only one not caught in the fervor of Christmas.
He stepped outside to the parking lot to properly monologue.
"What is the point?" Nietzsche wondered to himself out loud. "What is the meaning of all this? Surely, Christmas is more than about its presents?"
"You're right," a voice behind Nietzsche said.
Nietzsche whirled around in surprise. "Jesus Christ!"
"That's right," Jesus Christ said, wearing a resplendent white robe. "Christmas is more than presents. Look at the word 'Christmas'. It has 'Christ' in it. Christmas is about me."
Thus Spake NietzscheWhen Nietzsche was fifty-five years old, he died and went into the afterlife where he was filed into the Literary Realm. There he enjoyed his contemplations and spent time outside of time in the profound ecstasy of his own mind. But at last, someone stumbled upon him in his thoughts, and he went before the stranger, knew him despite not knowing him, and spoke to him thus:Thus Spake Nietzsche by Vocable
You, Hunter S. Thompson! You have wrapped truth with your gaudy own! You make it new for yourself. Would you have wearied of truth if not for the loud finery you veil it in.
Behold. One must have tasted iron to take solace in the outrageous, but one must be hard to take solace in iron. You can be made harder still!
Much of your words remain but pale imitations, a shallow mask of Truth's profound spirit! Cast off your fear! Loudness is dangerous when one becomes incapable of saying subtle things.
What is truth? Truth — that is: continually peeling away that which covers up the barest essence; Truth — that i
Slaughter SaloonThe saloon doors opened and the new sheriff walked through. Nobody quieted down because nobody was there. Nobody except Tony.Slaughter Saloon by Vocable
"We're closed, sheriff," Tony said, swiping a dirty rag over a table. "We always close at sundown. Unless you've got business with me, we've got no business at all."
"Yeah, I got business with you," Sheriff Sam said. The doors swung closed behind him, blocking the light of the setting sun. "Need your help. Three guys came here earlier today. Remember 'em?"
"I dunno, sheriff. Lots of people come here. Can't expect me to remember them all."
"Yeah, well, you'll remember these guys. Real mean types. Troublemakers. New in town so you wouldn't have seen them before."
Tony remembered them, real cocky upstarts who were itching for a fight. It was rare for someone to make trouble in Tony's saloon, with it being so close to the sheriff's office. They tested his patience, made his hands itch for the guns he kept hidden beneath the counter.
"Yeah, I remember them. What abou
Looking Down On MeThe first thing I remember is the taste of vomit. Always. This is my life story, the title of every chapter, that taste. If I believed in god I would thank him for leaving it at that. A quick dip, a few wordsthe treatment of Christ by John. I would thank him for sparing me the fate of Noahs people or of Pharaoh.Looking Down On Me by Jon-Law
In my earliest memory Ive half fallen from my red plastic chair. My throat burns sour, my arm is splattered and warm, my hand is clenched like a thousand year old mummys around a fork. A fat black spider dances impaled on the tines. I can still feel the tickle of its pinprick feet on my tongue.
Id call that my prologue. The first proper chapter of my life began in school. To be perfectly accurate, Id been in school three years by then. Mom home-schooled me until she concluded that I didnt have a social disorder, I was just anxious about meeting other kids. What she called anxiety I call terror that locks every muscle but the sphincter.
anorexia nervosa. _part one a.anorexia nervosa. _part one by livingcomforteagle
There is something you should know about me, before we begin:
I have anorexia nervosa.
The denial was thick.
Anorexics, I believed, were skinny girls with even skinnier bones, combing their falling-out hair against mirrors where they appear as a sliver of a profiled coin, dying as the air beats them and hating their folded-paper bodies. Anorexics, I thought, had to be girls who achieve your standard perfect grades and are incredibly athletically-gifted, all the while going on zero calories for days at a time. Anorexics were built of disgusted strength, sickened determination, and a muddied line between self-preservation and -sacrifice. Anorexics were withered girls on billboards, stealing the sun from the beads of the sky laid before them, pressing it into their arms, and yet somehow taking no pigment with them.
I was notand am, I am not, I am not I am not I am notone of theseone of t
anorexia nervosa. _part two o.anorexia nervosa. _part two by livingcomforteagle
I lean back against the rim of my bed and dig my feet as far into the floor as the carpet will allow. The panic leaves me like an ocean wave, scraping up against the sand of my head and leaving me breathless. I want to hurt something. My arms settle neatly around the other, touching on my wrists, rubbing down my forearms, clenching my hands together.
Someone should have shot me as soon as I made it out of the womb, I think, and my hands settle around my neck.
Sometimes, I broke.
There were two months where, every Saturday and Sunday, I had Poptarts for breakfast, which is about two hundred calories per individual Poptart. There was an entire month where I ate ice cream every night. The second month after I had started, late September-ish, I found that I couldn't take the hunger for very long, and I would eat a snack before dinner. This ended in mid-October, thankfully, and some of the shame subsided. I