at the far edge of town where the grickle grass grows
and the wind smells slow and sour when it blows
and no birds ever sing excepting old crows
is the street of the lifted lorax

and deep in the grickle grass some people say
if you look deep enough you can still see today
where the lorax once stood
just as long as he could
before someone lifted the lorax away


something powerful, ominous, imaginative, and inspiring in those words. hard to believe they were written by a simple author named Theodore Geisel...which the world more commonly refers to as Dr. Seuss.

yes, that prose is actually the first 2 pages to the children's storybook The Lorax. but i always find myself reciting that prose, especially in dour times when i find myself staring out a car window and witnessing the utter ruin and blank, careless devastation of my hometown, solely for the purpose of building another unwanted set of ugly housing developments.

Evil Orange. that is what the scurge of my roadways is now labeled by me. their sole purpose in life: to make you wait and make you late, for whatever destination it was that you tried to get to peacefully. nope, they will not have any of it; their mission is specifically to wreck your roadways and destroy your patience with minimal effort and a big fucking red stop sign as their weapon of choice.

they are also in cahoots with the incessant, rumbling steel beasts that i've been forced to follow in their wake down the highways. their 2nd line of attack: trucks! the single greatest hazard of my freeways, and quite impervious to all forms of avoidance since they multiply rapidly and cause incredible irritations across the entire landscape of mild-mannered drivers, like me.


~1,000 curses to the Evil Orange~
may their tools rot into rust piles
and their coffee turn cold as ice
i pray that their cigarettes burn up in their face!

this entry is merely an added thought; if by chance there is somebody reading my journal here, then i wish to convey this notion:

i'm actually feeling fine.

so i've experienced another week of turbulent motions....no different than a lot of weeks preceding it. i'm not sad or too melancholy right now; don't have the energy for it i guess.

just tired of living a lonely life, that's all.


anyway not important; my horoscope says friday should be a good day. i'll take advantage of that if i can. perhaps hidden treasures await...

alright! i was bestowed the honor of receiving another item to nicely decorate my badge list! a humble reward that i gratefully give thanks; however i will probably never win any of the colored badges due to the proliferated use of photoshop for all artwork submitted to ET contests. perhaps it is a conspiracy on the part of those who are following the Adobe bandwagon...or perhaps i'm merely paranoid while being subject to self-persecution with regards to the veritable crappiness of my own art work. hell, can it really be called artwork anyhow?
contrarywise, that has given me a strange idea in recent weeks about submitting a new contest regarding art done using ONLY MS PAINT--take that, photoshop philanderers!!
well, actually that idea is not too farfetched...apparently, someone had created that very thing awhile back. i found it in the elftown archives under contests which are now closed.
me thinks a reopening is in order....hehe

---

well, i got excited. so sue me.
i thought i had a wonderful opportunity to meet and greet with a rather pretty and nice japanese girl. how fortunate that i would have been! how wonderful that the gods of good luck would have spared the evil karma that so permeated my life, to deliver a girl like that into my midst!

sadly, it was not to be....
after repeated attempts to meet with her and engage in light conversation, i now get the feeling she is not interested in any kind of friendship. so i wasn't being spared after all. the gods of fortune it seems were not there to offer me this gift: instead they were only dangling a carrot, and with persistence like that of the candiru i did follow that path.

ruin to my self-esteem? ha! there is no ruin. you cannot ruin something any more than it already is.

seems like i keep having the same dream, repeatedly each night. or other times it is the same dream and yet not the same, similar points and attractions or interests or familiar places that seem to spring up out of the ground of my subconscious. and then again, it is not a dream at all, but a simple thought, a mere glance or mental image, a wish not yet granted or the whimsy of personal desire or fantasy. it is either a series of dreams, or perhaps just one grand scheme of images and landscapes all conjured up out of a necessity in my life to pursue some inconceivable yet physically attainable goal that i can't quite put my finger on.

oh well, whatever... 

I close my eyes and see the white sands of a vacant beach
in front is an indescribable ocean, waves blundering to and fro, moving with a perpetual energy that is blissful as it is active
behind me is the tree line of tropical palms
and I think to myself what delights lay in the sampling of fresh coconut milk under a mild sunny sky
then there is the image of grassy meadows, of a cool breeze moving slowly through the cattails
I see shards of bamboo growing in the fields
then stakes of the same plant with their tops cut open and I can see the hollow emptiness of such a simple plant
then there is the sight of a kiosk rising in the midst of a forest grove
a table spread with bare items but soon occupied by the implements of something familiar
there is a teapot brewing hot water, the steam gently lifting from the spout
I can smell the tannin fruity tones of green tea, and something else much sweeter
then there is darkness, but not the melancholy aura of dusk nor the dense cold black of a solid night
faint light emanates from the soft glow of tissue lanterns
I stand in an austere room, no persons other than myself as I wait for an event to follow, peering out beyond a windowsill at some flow of a stream in the distance
I'm wearing nothing more than the light burden of thin clothing, and barefoot upon a wooden floor
and then I see what I might have been waiting for; a lonely girl slowly strides near a doorway that led into this room
she is dressed in the most beautiful of kimono, waving a tissue fan decorated with the subtle strokes of ukiyo-ei
I am still attentive at the window with my stream in the distance, and this girl walks behind me to an adjacent table where she sits very carefully upon the tatami floor
then, there is only flashes of white and of blue, of the morning cloud and the evening shade, of a red that caresses and a green that brings comfort
and somehow, all I feel during such moment is a sensation of peace and pleasure...

darkest day and the darest hour
against this scourge I have no power
my name attached is all they need
to set this beast that wanders freed
¤
the suffering a thousand fold
upon my soul this stranglehold
my curse this demon now created
towards the grave has not abated
¤
I simply cannot kill the beast
of greed that will commence their feast
such evil I have never seen
injustice is their core of being
¤
forced am I to battle day and night
like spirits held in grievous plight
the system failed and now this path
has only driven me to wrath
¤
against a law that does no good
thus guilty now where i stood


well, i'm not sure where this was going exactly...simply trying to express a family nightmare using poetry. somehow, even the prose itself seems hollow...was this supposed to be a part of something larger in scope maybe?

a pull of the rope...
a twist of the knob...

and weary spectators witness the diary being kick-started into gear once more.

---

to any of those members who are really that insatiable in their curiosity of these words spewing forth from my mind's mandibles...i have decided that i will henceforth pick up from this day forward the act of jotting down whatever mental ramblings i have in store.

ergo, i'll have some use for this sector of my house.


for those who stumble upon this area, you will discover very little in the way of anything stupendous. i don't know whether i'll be writing something down here because i'm sad, glad, insightful, or spiteful....but whatever it is, i'll make sure that it deserves to be said here in these entries.

dreams, thoughts, feelings, ponderings, ideas, plans, strategies...perhaps all of the above will be laid to rest here, or simply cataloged in these entries so that i can resuscitate them later for some kind of mad project or dark scheme...or just maybe a sketch or writing of some kind. either way, productivity is the aim i suppose. a means to an end, as well as the end itself.


and so it begins. again.