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Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
.wow, i never thought it would ever be possible,
i'm sorry, i have no empathy for these youtuber "creators",
any idiot can regurgitate the news,
venture into vulture journalism,
  then again: gone are the days of closely associated
with people like Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein...
they are really gone: what the hell was gamer-gate
compared to watergate? gate after gate,
and all i'm hearing is response videos,
it should have never come to this,
whereby journalists are as untrustworthy as politicians,
and of what remains, come the saturday and
the sunday editions, when the petty bourgeoisie
come out of the woodworks of a week,
album reviews, book reviews, t.v. reviews,
restaurant reviews: real, real journalism,
all the grit you'd expect from a warzone...
           journalists forgot they were not kindred spirits
of politicians: but immediacy historians...
the front-line history chroniclers...
i find... these days, esp. these days...
    you know why i like heidegger so much,
and forget the fact that he joined the **** party?
in 1938 he was already disillusioned by it...
so the ad homine fallacy bites the dust...
   even a **** deservers a redemption...
but i find that these days, of all days...
   man, as a historiological creature has to bow
before the unshakeable facets of the biological man,
esp. in the english speaking world...
    in terms of history and biology:
     history has all the fun stories,
and a sensible "concern" for time,
   well... if not "concern" then at least a bearbable
time-frame...
                  after all, i am the one who said:
all the great deserts of the world,
akin to sahara? they were once great
mountain ranges... you already know where
to look between a mountain range akin to the alps
and a desert... bound to h'america...
   monument valley: utah...
  a mountain becomes a rock after a while...
while the desert expands...
    ayers rock (uluru)... but monument valley (utah)
is a transition period between a mountain range
and a desert, if we're going to stand outside
of all space and time, and look back in...
we have plenty of time to catch-up on...
           just like i believe that black holes
are actually 2-dimensional objects:
   that spin really fast, giving an impression
of them being 3-dimensional objects:
as usually represented by a gravity dip associated
with them pulling matter into themselves...
i think that black holes are paradoxes...
since how can a 2-dimensional object
actually exist in a 3-dimensional space?
   that depends on the size of the "3-dimensional"
object / space... the universe is a medium,
it's defined as a "space" but to me...
      it's beyond space... it's only space on the grounds
of isolated time, 365 days,
the time and space it takes for the earth
to orbit the sun... which is an isolated example,
outside? well: there's atmosphere on earth,
outside? vacuum!
who's going to prove my theory wrong?
               not anyone in my lifetime -
besides the point with these youtube content
"creators": where credit is due, credit is due,
but once might have cared for their vulture
journalism... two old farts akin to felix (black pigeon
speaks) and sargon of akaad talking about how:
the youth are congregating to youtube to listen
to music: that's what i've always done...
  i discovered these youtube "creators" by accident,
i just wanted my jukebox back, man,
i wanted my algorithm back, my imprint back,
now that the devil's dozen scenario took hold
of the platform: 1 video playing, 12 back-ups...
and they're all the same, unrelated, *******...
        talk all you want, please, just give back
my algorithm imprint, where i can discover new music...
again... i never thought i'd see another
compilation video, 173 videos bound to one...
and, mind you... after finding about 6 googlewhacks
(googlewhack? when you use the sort of
language that provides you with only one search
result on the behemoth platform of billions
of results, 1 is grand, but 6? it's becoming too
predictable)...
                        so here's what i found
   (band - song):

wooly mammoth - mammoth bones / kyuss - space cadet,
rainbows are free - last supper / grand magus -
                                                mountain of power,
zed - lies / om - cremation chant I & II,
    smoke - hallucination / weird owl - white hidden fire,
orchid - son of misery / witch - seer,
               unida - you wish / black mountain - old fangs,
b.r.m.c. - ain't no easy way /
              jack daniels overdrive - ****** to death,
shrinebuilder - blind for all to see,
                   datura - mantra / the heavy eyes - voytek,
the machine - infinity / clutch - the regulator,
   colour haze - mountain / maligno - son of tlalocan,
dozer - twilight sleep / gomer pyle - albino rattlesnake,
blockback - dead mans blues / greenleaf - witchcraft tonight,
cactus jumper - right way / borracho - bloodsucker,
alabama thunderpussy - motor ready,
                    earthless - sonic power,
my brother the wind - death and beyond,
   zaphire oktalogue - carrion fly / siena root - reverberations,
unida - slaylina / pothead - toxic / sungrazer - mountain dusk,
   rotor - costa verde / blizaro - it's in the lighthouse,
planet of zeus - woke up dead,
     kongh - pushed beyond / ufomammut - smoke,
high on fire - to cross the bridge,
              the secret - bell of urgency,
      unida - wet pussycat / dozer - big sky theory,
cavity - chloride / brutus - swamp city blues,
the grand astoria - something wicked this way comes,
sasquatch - the judge / pharaoh overlord - skyline,
baby woodrose - love comes down / kamni - **** of satan,
lay with me - the flying eyes / cowboys & aliens  -
                                                out of control,
sons of otis - liquid jam / hainloose - recipe,
    ridge - rancho relaxo / bongripper - ****** sutherland,
skraeckoedland - cactus / grails - satori,
    lo-pan - chicken itza / five horse johnson - people's jam,
blind dog - don't ask me where i stand,
     wiht - orderic vitalis / hisko detria - nothing happens,
liquid sound company - leage for spiritual discovery lives,
   goatsnake - black cat bone / gandhi's gunn - rest of the sun,
the egocentrics - wave / propane propane - it's alright,
heliotropes - ribbons / mother mars - price you pay,
che - the knife / annimal machine - condenado,
   earth - tallahassee / the whirlings - delirio,
orchid - heretic / maeth - horse funeral,
siena root - rasayana / graveyard - longing,
           tia carrera - hell / hainloose - recipe,
      burner - five pills (and a bottle of whiskey),
dala sun - guilty for ****** / vulgaari - lie,
        slo burn - muezli / stonehelm - zombie apocalypse,
smallman - evolution / spiders - fraction,
         shakhtyor - e. jaspers / earthmass - lunar dawn,
evoke the lords - dregs / colour haze - silent,
     sutrah - el septimo viaje...

  

who are "these" people,
who: "supposedly" live for the future...
they always cite it,
as the one motivational
momentum of the present -
it's as if they've never seen
a bull itch the ground
with its front hoofs -
   imitating building up momentum
before a charge...
or how a slingshot,
or how a bow works...
   to these people,
the ******* sideways movement
of a bow against a violin...
sometimes...
      you do not retreat into
the past, to hide, to amount
to nostalgia...
     sometimes
the only reason for the reflexive
affirmation, confined to maxims
and aphorism, nay: even poems!
is to look back...
     to reap what was once
sowed, rather than sow blindly,
and reap: what no one wants
to reap...
    drunk? getting there...
       it felt so relaxing paying off
a 100 / 250 part of a debt
i owe her...
            while buying a russian
standard liter,
   asking for a 100 cash-back
of the supermarket cashier,
- the limit is 50,
   but if you buy something else,
i can give you another 50...
- oh... ok...
   so me went to and took a bottle
of shveedish cider...
   rekorderlig...
   mind you? the swedish,
what they perfected fermenting
better than what the the irish claim
to fame is?
    sorry... magners:
               irish? stick to the guinness...
(it's actually the only cerveza
i'd go into an english pub to
drink from the tap... bottled? canned?
not the same)...
     but with such swedish delights
such as the above mentioned,
  ålska and K  ö   nigsberg
                            *œ
?
no competition... the suede(s) just
do one thing grand...
    cider...
- what was i talking about?
  ah... the "dreaded" past...
     the people who say:
  but you can't live out a life,
   holding onto a private past,
a memory...
    so... these other ******* were
allowed to implant a false
past, unrelated to me,
teaching me whether it was
Newton, or Leibniz who first
invented the infinitesimal calculus
method?
                i'm betting on Leibniz...
after all... he took the position
of a ******* librarian...
   and he wasn't buried with pomp
& circumstance at Westminster Abbey...
sometimes...
         one person can't have it all...
but if the education system
is a system that is indicative for
the erosion of memory, esp. private
matters... and juggernauts in
with these selective rubrics of science
and history...
fair enough the basic
implants: numerical arithmetic,
and lettering arithmetic -
    and then... lessons in mental
entertainment... when applied
           to menial labour...
memory is: supreme...
          i can't give my memory up...
that's what: killer proteins
eating the fat tissue of the brain
like starvation in reverse
        of a case of Alzheimer's?
memory is: cameo cinema -
    however distorted it might be,
although i beg to differ on
whether time per se,
  is not the better psychedelic
component
when coupled with memory -
esp. the cinematic aspect of memory...
there was never a "living" in
the past -
      there was a point about memory
to sharpen the edges of
    "dasein"... all speculation and
questions regarding consciousness,
as championed through
a chimpanzee's *** are somehow
pointless:
    given there's a higher tier of
conceptualization -
   working from dasein...
            hierjetzt -
      or in english?             presence...
- because why would i treat
a personal memory,
like some inorganic entity of
a schooling system,
under Catholic measures,
  that made it necessary to include
Pythagoras... but not Horace?
that's inorganic memory...
and unless i turn into some
inorganic entity -
   the organic aspect of my psyche:
my past, my cameo cinema?
   that's going to be a leech,
attached to me...
  and i'm not going to give it up,
just like... when i walk about
my door, and enter the england
that i know on the peripheries...
i'll speak the lingua franca -
     but with my privacy?
    you'd better cut my tongue off
before i stop speaking
my western slavic heritage...
    and it pains me...
when certain groups of immigrants...
don't know the POINT
where immigration becomes
insensible... self-lacerating...
           i once hated their approach...
now i just pity them...
anyone ****** can juggle
     two oranges rather than three...
p.s. old school cure for a cold?
forget the pills...
   glass of warm milk,
  an egg yolk,
     and a good scratch of butter...
  (on the rare occasion,
  milk infused with garlic)

mixed together...
before bedtime...
  if the ****** won't sweat out
the bacteria during the night...
     well... stick to the synthetics...
i'm pretty sure i know why i drink...
certainly not to: PARTY PARTY PARTY...
i always aim for
the one safety net of "pharmacology"...
ssssssssleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

p.s. so much for children loving their
parents...
        in vitro and the whole
m.g.m. debacle:
so, sweet little *******,
       no *******, no chance for your
for a quickie satellite launch date from
Tehran, under all the weight of
monotheism turned secular...
christianity: the only "monotheism"
with overt tinged of polytheism,
lutheran, baptist, catholic, orthodox...
just today i opened my door twice...
once to a confused curry house delivery man:
did you order some food:
i too replied with a confused look
and the word: huh?! no.
then a black woman with a a white ol' granny
came by with a leaflet...
the jehovah's witnesses were on my trail...
lucky of my grandfather,
   the profanity brigade of the hebrew name
i will not dare utter came by...

  and if you have lived a good enough life:
memory? memory beats hollywood
technicolour and CGI...
at least in the cinema of memory i always
get to play the cameo (role)...

oh i get the youtube creators:
   living with his parents... still. aged 33...
funny that i don't mind them,
since they're getting older they're settling
into their solispsism,
        annoying as ****, but i stand them,
thank god the protruding caduceus veins
on my phallus protected me from
a circumcision...
  i can ******* like a girl with a web-cam...
no scented candles:
the no. 1, 2 & 3 on the throne of thrones...
the toilet, simultaneously masaging my ****
and prostate...

men were not exactly supposed to derive
pleasure from ***: they were,
supposed to give pleasure,
and in giving pleasure to one outlet,
they were subscribed to finding out what
best pleases them: ergo?
women would always derive more of
the people from *** than men would ever...
*** is not a story of bragging about
a harem... the woman lies flat...
the man pumps her...
after all... she is the one burdened
to carry a child, why wouldn't she be
the one deriving more pleasure from *** than
a man could ever?
72 virgins! ha ha!
   ah ha ha!
             what's the ratio?
   last time i checked... a 3 hole caravan...
of a woman's worth...
   mouth, ******, ****... and man?
only two points of entry, well...
"entry"...
                    seems that the tomatoe,
really is a fruit, but is treated like a vegetable
nontheless!
homosexuality in the 1960s...
william burroughs in Tangiers...
                    when Islam was quiet radical...

well... i cook, i clean...
                what are my other options of continuing
to write and living the ed gein "lifestyle",
i tried getting social housing in england,
but, i'm not a somali with two wives and a dozen
kids...
              rent, in london?
extortion...
                   housing shortage...
                 well there's me hating my parents,
the outside world just needs to see
an ed gein imitation...
               or there's me living off acorns
in the woods, or rummaging on the streets,
making the N25 bus from oxford st. to ilford
my own personal mobile hotel as a homeless
man in london...

   i think it's time to succumb to your
parents prejudices, if only for the jokes,
no point in making ethical high judgements
to fit into a zeitgeist narrative surrounding
yourself with people: you'd never eat a meal with...
that's how i define the highest form of respect:
if i'll eat with you: implies that i respect you...
i drink alone...
a high school fwend once thought he could
bribe me with his company,
that i "had to" drink with him...
      no... not really...
          i much prefer drinking by myself...
these days you're not expected to honour your
mother and your father,
i.e. make them proud...
               honour is a double-edged sword...
just don't be ashamed of having
a mother or a father...
not that hard: given western divorce rates...
i.v.f., frozen eggs... yadda yadda yadda...
lucky me in having went to university...
oh... really? so much cooler in a cosmopolitan
environment with your contemporary
flat-mates?
               get the picture?
                 paying rent while literally living
in a diguised cardboard box?
i can't help the fact that poetry doesn't pay...
that there are economic factors beyond
my control in play...
   maybe if i was the grandson of my parents,
born in england, and not elsewhere,
there would be some sort of + leverage...
for a bricks and mortar start-up...
plus... i hoard...
         books and music...
                     mind you:
neither of my parents spoke english as their
mother tongue...
  neither did i...
they didn't teach me this tongue:
i had to teach this language by myself:
for myself...
           aged 8: thrown into the deep end
of the pool: now swim ******, swim!

i just feel sorry for the immigrant parents
who gave birth to their children into the *****
of the land they immigrated to...

two days ago i found a heartbreak,
a romanian couple, with a child...
the father was stubborn in teach his daughter
his / her native sprechen...
romanian... but she was already speaking
perfect antithesis of accent kindergarten english...
and almost non-responsive to her tongue
alligned to her biology...
    clearly she was born in england,
but her parents were both romanian...
i've had that conundrum in my head
for a long time...
   what if i married an english girl...
and i was unable to teach my offspring
my native language,
what if i had to silence my native tongue,
"forget" it, or only speak it by myself,
via reading a book in western slavic?
what if the woman i married:
wouldn't see the benefits of bilingualism,
outside of the mainstream economic
mantra of ensuring your children
learn either german or mandarin or arabic?
that worried me...
          oh believe me, i enjoy my lapses
into english: since i am providing the groundwork...
but in the case of having offspring...
e.g. teaching them the western slavic tongue
so they could speak to their grandparents
(i.e. my parents)...
       even my grandparents lament
the scenarios when a woman would marry
an austrian... and she wouldn't teach
her children her native tongue,
and when the grandchildren would visit their
grandparents... they'd be speaking
a crude variation of braille, morse,
   sign-language: na migi...
               i know that my mother is alive
in me even under this veil of english...
because she's more than the womb,
the genitals of my conception, the breast fed off...
she's also the Atlas of my vocabulary
of the "hiding" tongue beneath this one...

i already knew the "game" was rigged from
the get-go... i've seen how one hindu woman
suffered being married to a scouser...
she never managed to pass on her language
to her children,
she bought a library, thinking her children
would succumb to learning: however poor
they might end up being...
but she was suffocated by the english
tongue of her husband...
and her children didn't express even the most
vague of desires to learn their mutterzunge...

that's what worried me to begin with,
marrying an english woman i was afraid
of the ignorance that someone bilingualism
was en route toward a psychiatrist disorder
i was diagnosed with: schizophrenia...
this anglophonic ignorance still scares me...
like: everyone is expected to speak the revisionist
globalist lingua franca: this anglo lingua...
if i didn't meet a bilingual / polyglot woman,
i'd return to rearing idiotic children...
anglo lingua was only supposed to be a middle-ground,
a "no man's land"...
             a language of trivial economic transfers...
a language primarily orientated around usage:
rather than an ethno-centric basis for "englishness"...
to **** with: god save the queen...
the british grenadiers' fife & drum...
                 old scot dragoons': auld lang syne...
those where my forever anthems...
see...
        what gave birth to a jihadi john?
his mother "forgot", his father "forgot":
his "mother" forgot, his "father" forgot to speak
the "ancient" tongue...
there's a point to integration of the immigrant,
an immigrant is a forgetful creature,
an ever pleasing creature...
never to mind himself as an ex-pat...
you ****** forget your mutterzunge...
you'll be speaking in cockney accents
with broken affairs of arabic beheading people
for zombified reasons of grandeour!
*******...
          you, you: you are to blame!
you were so ashamed of your parents that you
delved on honoring them to the point
of thinking giving pride unto them was very
much akin as keeping shame away from
their girdle of the wedlock of your own existence!
death has not made your a martyr...
i guess you deserve those 72 mishaps,
those 72 annoying voices...
and i pray to god that you receive your reward!
i hope that among the 72 you will never find
a chance a repose to find your: self!

integration is one thing,
pandering to the "elites": plebs who think they
are kings among the plebs,
is quiet another...
plebs who go places and think english
is a universal tongue: just because
uncle sam says so...
of those i respect:

y cymraeg: pwy dal eu tafod...
an gàidhlig: cò fhathast bruidhinn an cuid teanga...
i nawet moim: co ma mówić
to nawet tyle: co znaczy tak niewiele!

there are boundaries... learn the customs
of the natives, but ensure you retain the customs
you were born with...
a child, born in a foreign land,
ought to ensure his parents teach him
the words to speak to his grand overseers...
complete immersion,
this cultural abortion,
this cutting of the umbilical chord
from: i have never met a people so
content at having been subjugated outside
the indian sub-continent,
cricket... for ****'s sake...
       as to demand other europeans
to treat them as superiors,
when sitting alongside an englishman...
****-bud-bud, the **** are you on about?!
once again: england has become the circus
for the grounding of what began
with engels and marx...
   wasn't communism born from
engels and marx observing english society?
sure... first experimented en masse in
mongolia... but its origins?

   so of course i had problems finding a suitable
mating partner... i was afraid that my nativ-zunge
would die a slow but solemn death...
that an english bridge would not consider
the worth of a bilingual child, or a polyglot,
or that she would repress the chance of my
"biological continuum nuance" to respond outside
of the anglo lingua refrain of: beside the english language?
there are quiet a few one might want to learn...

it's not easy being a first generation immigrant,
esp. if you moved aged 8, mute as a wolf
to a domesticated dog's barking...
but hey, no jihadi john in me...
           jihadi john should have been raised
bilingual... i wouldn't be the one speaking broken
tourist arabic while beheading someone...
jihadi john spoke tourist arabic...
the dichotomy of the mind to the biological
reality, beside the current, western,
"biological relativism" debate...
      clearly darwinism was "wrong"...
man is, these days, left with neither a biological
reality, nor a historical reality...
              but there is a historical reality:
but it's so knit-&-picky...
come on... philip augustus of the capetian
dynasty?
                 casimir III...
                        jeremi wiśniowiecki...
konrad I of masovia...
                           kuno von lichtenstein...
alles ist gott: und gott ist alles -
  gott mit, uns!

              mit eine leben wert leben:
    erinnerung ist die nur kino
             wert sehen eine film beim;

hell... could be worse:
   i might have translated some latin
of horace into pig-trough comfort food.
Tiana Marie Apr 2018
The life of a Youtuber
new and just trying
hardly any subscribers
and barely surviving

She pulls out her camera
and then everyone stares
she's vlogging publically
and suddenly everyone cares

had she have no camera
she'd be just a normal girl
no one would even look her way
and judge her like an ungodly pearl

yet she still talks to the screen
for they are her only friends
the 19 subscribers
she talks to without end

she smiles as she watches
her view count go up to 40
and dreams of the day
it'll turn into 60

She posts and posts
but what no one really sees
is the girl behind the camera
in real life, she'd freeze

she's now in the store
and talking to her screen
people look at her like she's crazy
and she wishes she couldn't be seen

But someday she'll earn
ten millions of subscribers
and those very same people
will love her with each one of their fibers

So she just keeps on going
hoping and wishing
that someday she'll make it
so she just keeps on keeping.
I JUST STARTED A VLOGGING CHANNEL! You guys should subscribe! I'd love you FOREVERRRRR. I'm barely starting out so any feedback on my channel is accepted and encouraged! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTUVqEPpQV2q_qNvfs3Q1bA
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.perhaps it's a good thing,
that i don't succumb to witty
rhyming poetry...
i hate rhyming poetry as much
as Bukowski hated disney...
Homer didn't rhyme...
  and all the better for it...
this rhyming fetish,
whereby, when you start
rhyming, succumbing to
some quasi orthodoxy?
   getting caged?
       better than rhyme...
   noticeable signs of impromptu,
and absolutely no, so
signs of editing...


      if god is dead in philosophical
discussions...
then rhyme is dead
in poetic composition...
    we, really don't need curriculum
poetics for GCSE students...
cages, entrapment,
   not bothering Stendhal from
the brink of a post-existentialist
despair sitting in
that other graveyard,
  the library shelf...
    and seriously?
    why Jane Austen on the 5 quid
banknote, and not Mary Shelley?

and there's a reason why i will
not make a single youtube video...
why?
       on a certain level of the popularity
stratum,
   it's become this,
  american nostalgia for high school,
the gossiping, the undermining,
the atypical Brutus confidant circle
of "content" creators...
   net-novellas -
   a bunch of people my age...
******* up to the tele-novella
       ergonomics that Polish grandmothers
watch, imported from Turkey...
or the English 1985 Eastenders
soap opera...
   ******* have to be different,
through and through,
drive on the "wrong" side of the road,
then they have to start calling
tele-novellas, soap-operas!

short attention span, sure sure...
no problem...
          do your ******* homework
during the week, watch the omnibus
on the weekend...

what's this one youtuber, who said
something about the advertisement blockers?
by the way...
   Samsung?
     all videos have been demonetized...
perhaps on the odd occasion
a vevo ad... but that's about it...

       advertisement blockers?
  seriously?
   are these people so ******* impatient
that they can't locate the mute button?!
i see an advert: MUTE...
   i think of something,
   to craft an anti-zombie
   pause, moment, anything...
    why block advertisement -
when you can merely mute it...
and listen to the vacuous sound
of celestial orbits?

        within a certain tier of content creators,
it's already the ****-smearing,
soap opera, back in a high school
playground "nostalgia"...
  sorry... not for me...
but thank you, for taking the effort,
to take a reed, dive into a lake,
and breath through it,
while remaining covert, hidden...

         again... numbers numbers numbers...
i'm still exercising a freedom of
"speech", but i rather prefer the
practice of writing, as the appropriate
res extensa of the vector origin
for this cascade, the res cogitans
as it were...

   and there really are only two forms
of nuanced language:
a study of philosophy,
   or the study of: law...
      but this youtube **** show...
   this: back in high school,
no revenge time...

                 i only tuned in for the music,
but then these youtubers started
propping up in the recommendation
list for the music i was listening to...

die krupps postscript suggestions
came up with x,
   wooden shjips came up with y...
lao che came up with z recommendations...

on a side note...
   ha ha!
    mark manson's book...
  the art of not giving a ****...
it mentions Bukowski...
  only read the sample...
        that he was a, loser...
and loser is specifically derogatory
term in American society...
to which i reply?
   and what the **** did
mark manson, actually win?
Bukowski at least won
a childhood where his father beat
him silly in the ******* bathroom...

you haven't exactly won anything,
mr. manson...
   if you didn't lose anything
to begin with;

and if you have?
   let's see the follow-up of
to your bestseller,
         of "not giving a ****";
but we won't, will we?
      - hardly brown-nosing,
the guy's dead,
1997... i have to keep
the integrity of the dead
on my bookshelf...
      
      who reads this
reverse masochism of the self-help
literature genre, anyway?
you can't even use these books
as a counter to a decent roll
of toilet paper!
   unless you want to scratch,
ahem, sorry, wipe your *** with
the pages, and start an **** bleeding!
Nathan Alexander Aug 2018
I wake up, it’s a beautiful day!
Changing clothes, putting my stuff away,
Nothing to ruin it today,
Hey!
Gonna make the most out of today!
Yeah!

Going to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and-
(80% of the happiness you feel, comes from genetics.)
...Uh...
(And life is ultimately meaningless.)

Okay, going on the bus!
It’s a little tight, but it’s not that much of a fuss,
No reason to go nuts,
Yeah!
(69,000 bus accidents occurred in Europe, in 2014 alone.)
...What?
(Not to mention that the carbon emission is killing the atmosphere.)
...Jesus...
(Oh, and at least you’re lessening it by using public transit.)

...Well, alright, it’s time enter the school!
Gonna learn, till I pass everything!
My grades are screaming in my face; “it’s all cool!”
(You know what’s not cool?)
Bring it on, tell me anything!
(98% of what you study is a waste.)
...I mean...

...Nevermind that,
I get to hang out with some of my friends!
My friends are the bestest of friends!
Can't think of a better way to spend my time!
(Your brain is flawed, you’re bound to drift, and in any case all your friends will die.)
...Uh... Then...

I can live in the moment, use up every second!
(At any moment, you could get clinical depression.)
You’re wrong, I'll just be happy, no matter what's in store!
(It's quite genetic and we have no cure.)
...Uh, at least...

We are young!
(Not for long.)
Life is great!
(It only goes downhill.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(You’re likely to regret it.)
We are young!
(For now.)
Life is fun!
(For some people.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(Good luck.)

I got a brand new job today!
Doin stuff that'll help the economy!
I'll save money, and buy things at the store-
(Banks can crash and capitalism is flawed.)
...I... uh...

Um... and it's all because of my hard work!
(And the thousands of advantages you were lucky to get at birth.)
I put loads of effort in my resume!
(Good thing you don't have a black person's name.)

I've at least got a nice stable job!
(Until it's outsourced to China or replaced by a bot or robot.)
...Well then I could relax a bit!
(You'll be empty, with nothing to distract from it.)

But man, I'm a passionate teen!
I can be different, and I have career paths to pick from!
I could be a programmer, or a game maker, or even a YouTuber, if I'm lucky!
(Even if you really could be any of those, neither would make you happy, trust me.)

At this age, I’m still able to choose what I pursue!
(That’s a lie, and you're always a slave to people born richer than you.)
Then ***** it, I'll keep going,
And I'll party on the weekend, and sing!
(You’ll either get laughed at, or receive applaud, thanks to autotune.)

We are young!
(Not for long.)
Life is great!
(It only goes downhill.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(You’re likely to regret it.)
We are young!
(We still die.)
Life is fun!
(Until you’ll die.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(Because you'll die.)

Life is a wonder!
(You'll never know the answer.)
Nature is a miracle!
(Natural disasters.)
It's great to be alive!
(You could wake up with cancer.)
But I'm healthy...
(No matter how healthy, even healthy people get cancer.)

I love this show!
(It's probably the last episode there’ll ever be, or you have to wait weeks or months for the next episode.)
The sun is shining!
(It's going to explode.)
Every species is beautiful, and unique though!
(Children have malaria thanks to mosquitoes.)

I met a cute girl, with a ponytail!
(Statistically speaking, even if you two get into a relationship, it’s going to fail.)
I have a wonderful family, it's like no other!
(Considering your luck, your thinking is not special, and one day you'll bury your mother.)
No matter what happens, I can find a home!
(We will all die alone.)
Sketcher Dec 2018
Why can't I remember simple words and phrases for tests and quizzes, yet I can remember almost every conversation we have had in the last four months. I have unintentionally memorized all of your hobbies and favorites. This was a surprising, yet amazing perk to getting to know you and fall in love with you.

I wanted to be a better artist, so I posted this wish on a few social media platforms. I was just getting it out in the open thinking that nobody would respond. You responded. You told me that we could meet up some time and practice your preferred art style, which is drawing animals. We made plans and set a date. I texted you on the chosen date and got a response the next morning saying that you were sorry for not responding sooner. You didn't have internet. We tried making plans a second time and the exact same thing happened. Yet again, you didn't have internet. At this point, I just thought that you didn't want to see me and I accepted that. One day, me and my ex-friend Gavin were walking around, going from neighborhood to neighborhood, just talking about life. Reminiscing in the good memories and troubles of the past. Eventually, we got bored of talking and he suggested that we go somewhere. This somewhere was your house. I didn't realize that we were walking towards your house at the time. Once we got to your house, I noticed you sitting in the back of your fathers truck while you had a few friends inside and your entire family eating dinner together at the dinner table. You seemed like a lonely teenager. You confirmed this thought after telling me multiple times in the future that you wanted me to come over and hang out, because of that dreadful loneliness. I came over at least twice every week and that lasted for a good two and a half months. From the first glance, I noticed your beauty. From your first words, I noticed your refined charm. You gave me a sort of cancer every time I came over. Ever time you touched me, the cancer would diminish and there would only be an elegant light radiating from the both of us. Then, when I would leave, the cancer would grow and pain me. This was only the beginning of my painful, yet joyous love for you.

I fell in love with you, because you drew me in. You, at one point literally, took me by the wrist to a place that nobody would find us and showed me the love you were capable of giving. Just not being able to see you and enjoy your presence was an extreme pain. I didn't think that this pain could get any worse. But of course, I was wrong and the pain grew immensely. You found someone else to give your love to. I was old news. Onto the next. You still had a bit of human in you. There was a small part of you that didn't want me to parish. You didn't want to completely stop avoiding me. So, you just started hanging out with me before school like I wouldn't notice the decline in how much time we were spending together.

I'm not mad. I'm not even sad. These emotions want to be set free and rile up a storm, but I would rather stay numb. When you're feeling lonely and don't have your boyfriend there to eradicate the loneliness present, I will be there in a snap. When you're hungry and I have stocked snacks in my bag for Wednesdays, because I can't order school lunches on Wednesdays, because Wednesday's are half-days and everybody has the same lunch on half-days, meaning that I would have to sit down and eat in the presence of you and your boyfriend... which I'm not going to do... I'll give you my Wednesday meal because your comfort is more important than my livelihood. When I buy two hundred dollar tickets for me and my friend Gavin to see a YouTuber we really like, and I find out you like the YouTuber too, I'll tell my friend Gavin that I'm taking a girl with me and take you instead even though I told him half a year ago that he was going with me. That's why I put an 'ex-' before friend while mentioning him earlier, because in the process of doing this, he said that I was a ******* ***** and he didn't want to hang out with me anymore. I don't mind, because your smile during the concert was more than enough to light up my days for weeks after the event. When you're wanting to walk with me and you're walking slow because gym class made you sore, and I'm walking fast because I have crippling anxiety and all I want to do is get the **** out of this highly populated school... I'll slow down and walk at your pace. When Satan comes knocking at your ******* bedroom door and asks you to **** one and save one, one being me and the other being your boyfriend, I will gladly run to your house and jump on Satan's blade so you don't have to make any decisions.

No matter what the circumstance, realistic or not, I desire your happiness above everything else.

I love you...
I don't expect you to read my story. Just getting it out there helps, so that's what I'm doing. Thanks for any likes, loves, or responses.
shiftingclouds Jun 2014
Let's get one thing clear: When people say "You're all I've ever wanted", they're lying.

I want many things. I want a pizza. I want to get an A for a paper I hardly studied for. I want a room with wooden floors. I want a house facing the sea. I want to walk into Forever 21 and take home anything I like. I want to travel around the world. I want to be better at sports. I want my ulcer gone immediately. I want longer eyelashes. I want to finish an entire season of a tv show without anyone bothering me. I want more followers on Twitter. I want to be friends with my favorite Youtuber. I want a pair of twin boys. I want Hogwarts to be real. I want to be good at archery like Katniss-freaking-Everdeen, cause it's so ******* cool. I want a new phone. I want to sleep late watching chick flicks without having to worry about sleep deprivation. I want three hamsters. I want superpowers. I want to fly.

But you see, here's the catch: What I want most, is you.
What about you?
Indeed May 2020
I never fell nor my towers of expectations ever fell,
but they always fell who tried to make me fall.


__unknown

#carryminati
#carryminati
IN CHRISTMAS IN 1997, MY NANNA DIED, AND THE MESSAGE SHE SENT, TEASE BRIAN, CAUSE HE IS STILL

LIKE US, BECAUSE, IF BRIAN WAS REALLY THAT SMART, HE WOULD REALISE, THAT EVEN NOW WE ARE

PROTECTING HIM, YOU SEE MY NANNA, WANTED BRIAN TO FIND HER NEXT LIFE, BUT I AM SURE I HAVE FOUND HER

HERE, YOU SEE, BRIAN REALLY LIKED CHRIS PLAYING THE GUITAR, SO MY NANNA LEFT HER LIFE, TO TRY

AND FIND A WAY OFF THE OLD LADY IMAGE AND INTO THE YOUNG DUDE GUY IMAGE, IN HER CREATIVITY

YOU SEE MY NANNA, YA KNOW, WAS LOOKING OVER ME, YOU SEE, SHE USED TO KNIT, AND ****

AND AFTERWARDS, SHE MADE A CUP OF TEA, WELL MY NANNA IS NOW FROM THE YEAR 2000, NANNA

BECAME JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, YA KNOW HE PUT HIS STUFF ON YOU TUBE, YOU SEE MY NANNA IS

A YOUTUBE PARTNER, I KNOW HE IS MY NANNA’S REINCARNATION, BECAUSE, HE HAS THE SPITTING

IMAGE OF WHAT SHE VIEWED IN ME, OR WHAT SHE SAW IN MY DECEASED DAD, JOHN ROBERT RIMEL,

WHO WANTED TO **** THE OLD FOGIE THAT NANNY’S WORRYING CAUSED, AND MY NANNA GOT INTO

MY HEAD, SAYING, IT’S ABOUT TIME YOU TOLD YOUR FAMILY YOUR BELIEFS, LIKE YOU BELIEVE IN REINCARNATIOB

BUDDY, AND DON’T WORRY ABOUT WHAT YOUR VOICES SAY, OK, I DIED, TO GET OUT OF THAT, NANNA SAID

AND NANNA, SAID, IF YOU WANNA DO MY LEGACY OF CREATIVE GENES, DON’T **** PEOPLE OFF, YOU

SEE MY NANNA JEAN ALLAN SAID, I AM JEAN ALLAN NO MORE, AND I PREFER TO BE YOUTUBE PARTNERS WITH

YOU BRIAN, AS MY NANNA SAID, THAT SHE IS JOHN ROBERT RINEL, A YOUTUBER LIKE BRIAN, AND MY NANNA

STILL WANTS THE VOICE OF PAT, ONLY BECAUSE, IF YOU REALLY CARED FOR THE POOR, EVEN FOR KIDS

IT’S EASY TO CARE, BUT MY NANNA GETS WEIRD VIBES FROM THAT, YOU SEE MY NANNA WAS SORT OF DOING THIS

TO GET CLOSER TO HER GRANDSON CHRIS, CAUSE, MY NANNA GIVES HER NEXT REINCARNTATION JOHN ROBERT RINEL

TO JAM WITH MY BROTHER OR HIS KIDS, BUT, HE LIKES TO BE IN THE HERE AND NOW, BUT NANNA RESPECTS THAT, BUT

THAT IS WHAT BUDDHA DOES, IS RESPECT, YOU SEE MY NANNA LIKE IS NOW A MUSICIAN, BUT NANNA HAS BEEN TEASING ME

SAYING, SHE ISN’T THE BOY IN ADELAIDE WHO SAVED THAT LADY, OR THAT RUNNER AT THE BELCONNEN GAME, NO, MY NANNA WAS

TEASING, TO SAY, OH NO, SHE WOULD DO THIS, LIKE BE RUNNER AT SPORTS EVENTS OR SAVE ADULTS, BUT MY NANNA, AND

IS JOHN ROBERT RINEL, SO SHE CAN MOVE ON, RATHER THAN BE A LITTLE OLD LADY WITH FLOPPY ARMS, SO MY NANNA SAID

YOU SIT THERE DOING YOUR TAPESTRY, BUT DON’T EXPECT ANYONE TO SMILE AT YOU, OR BETTER STILL, DON’T MUCK WITH YOU

IF YOU, FIND OUR REINCARNATIONS, OK, BRIAN ALLAN KNOWS PAUL BERENYI IS JACK VIDGEON, VIBE AT THAT CAROLS IN THE DOMAIN

AND DAD IS ELIZABETH ANN CAMPBELL, AND JEAN ALLAN IS JOHN ROBERT RINEL, BRETT EGGINS TOOK KIDNAP VICTIM, ADAM WALSH

UP TO REINCARNATE AS THE OLSEN TWINS, MARK JONES WAS STEVEN BRADLEY, WITH VOICES OF REINCARNATIION BOTHERING HIM

MARK DRANK COKE, BUT DID NOTHING ELSE, SO HE IS SUPER 3 YEAR OLD LIAM, FROM THE COKE, I DRINK COKE, BUT I WRITE STORIES

ABOUT MY REINCARNTIONS I WAS GREAME THORNE, PATRICK DUNBAR, A CAT AND A DOG, ALBERT WALDRON, A HOTEL PORTER AND CLEANER

GEORGE WASHINGTON BLACKBEARD THE PIRATE, ISABELLA OF FRANCE, THE 323 YEAR OLD MAN CRONUS HANSEL AND ST NICK, AND DANIEL MESSIAH

AND MY NANNA NOW IS REACHING ME FROM THE TOP, SAYING, NOW, MY NANNA IS JOHN ROBERT RINEL, THE REASON WHY I KNOW IT’S MY NANNA

BECAUSE I GET VIBES, YA SEE, MY NANNA WANTED TO BE MORE LIKE MY BROTHER, CAUSE SHE KNEW I DRINK, AND SHE WANTED ME TO OUT LIVE DAD

BUT I KNOW THE TRUTH, BUT I WANT TO KEEP IT ON THE INTERNET

JOHN ROBERT RINEL, YOU WERE MY NANNA WHO DIED IN 1997

BUT PLEASE. LET MY NANNA’S CREATIVE SPIRIT FLY OVER YOU, SHE KNITTED, YOU DO MUSIC ALL CREATIVE

YOU ARE THE NEXT GEN UP FROM MY NANNA, JUST THE REINCARNATION CREATIVITY
Lucy Bryant May 2014
I was born in Lynchburg, Virginia
~
My family had lived in Virginia for about 10 years before I was born
~
We moved exactly 1 month later
~
I was extremely rambunctious due to my own father's genes
~
When I was 3 years old I had gotten this old antique piano
out of our new house's closet and began to play O' Christmas tree
with out any help
~
I was enrolled in ballet classes at about 4 years old
~
I had then gone to school for the first time at 6 years old
~
Nobody liked me in kindergarten. In fact I brought in a sign language book and all the teachers laughed at me. (I just thought it would be something cool to bring)
~
In 2007, my father had been diagnosed with a liver disease and the doctors had told him that they couldn't do anything about it. He was going to die
~
But, he went to a different doctor and they told him he would survive
~
He just wouldn't be able to do a lot of things like go to work or family vacations
~
In 6th grade I realized that I wanted to be an actress and get more in to singing.
~
I also wanted to be a singer. And a dancer. And an interior designer. And a youtuber. And a poet. And a musician.
~
So I decided to try out for show choir. Where I belong.
apollota Aug 2015
Let's talk about that dreaded subject that students hate and probably wish wasn't real. Let's talk about School.

I don't understand it.
We sit in a boring room for six or more hours and 'learn' about stuff that most of us won't use when we're finished. Then, to make it all worse; they decide to test us. A couple letters to define us. They split us off into A's and F's, like it's a label. Like it matters, but it doesn't. Oh, **** it doesn't.
I know what you're thinking; "Oh, you're just a teenager. You're just lazy and don't understand." Yeah, I may be a teenager, but I still have the ability to realize when my time is being wasted. I don't want my time to be wasted. I've spent more of my life in a crumby, stuffy school room than with my family.
The education system is flawed and I'm not the only one who sees it.
I want to direct you to a video on Youtube titled "Don't Stay In School." uploaded by a Youtuber by the name of BoyInABand.
Listen to it. Listen to the whole thing and then tell me if you think the education system is perfectly fine because news flash, it's not.
Now I'll direct you to another video; "I Will Not Let An Exam Result Decide My Fate" by Suli Breaks. Listen to it.

School isn't about learning anymore. It's about passing.
What about the kids who can't memorize formulas and specific dates? Should we just sit there and fail? No, because we're not learning. And, sure, teachers will tell you to get a tutor or go to them for extra help, but most of the time it never works. At least not for me.

I can't memorize for ****, so I suffer.
You don't need to go to school to get an education.
The way I see it? School is school. If you want to go to school then that's cool, but don't **** on the people who dropout of school.

You know that little, interesting yet surprisingly weird website called Tumblr and the founder; David Karp. He dropped out of high school and look where he is now.

Don't knock down the players just because they don't understand the game.
2015-08-20
Gerard M May 2021
I found them cause of music or YouTube

Some of them I knew who they were

But didn't care about them when I was younger

They're the ones who I say "Top Of The Morning To Ya Laddies" or "Where's The Black Smith" with

Or instead sing Oh Miss Believer or Thnks Fr Th Mmrs with

Most of them I consider my best friends

Some of them are Patrick, Pete, Joe, and Andy

Others are Jimmy, Chris, Chandler, and Karl

They're there for me when any actual people aren't

They're the ones who don't care about the fact that I'm LGBTQ+

They just see me as another human being that's a fan of their music or channel

I try to remind myself about the Fall Out Boy lyric "You Are What You Love Not Who Loves You"

And tell myself that I'll be like Frank Iero and JackSepticEye

Some of them are the reason why I'm going to be a youtuber

I ask myself all the time how in the world did they somehow wind up being someone I consider friends
HI DUDES

I JUST UPLOADED THIS WEEKS VERSION OF MY CHART SHOW, WHERE MY MOTTO IS

PLAY THE OLD MUSIC, COUNTDOWN THE NEW, AND I UPLOADED TWO SONGS FROM

ANGRY ANDERSON FROM YESTERDAYS CONVOY FESTIVAL AT GUNGAHLIN

PRETTY RAD ISN’T IT, I USE MY CHARACTER, BERNETTE PETERS, WHO IS MY LITTLE GIRL IN ME

THE ORANGE HAIR WANNA BE, THIS ISN’T STRANGE BEHAVIOUR, THIS IS COOL BEHAVIOUR

PERFORMING ON YOUTUBE, AND THANKS FOR GIVING ME A FEW VIEWS, I LOOK AT ESTIMATED TIME WATCHED

AND I THANK YOU THERE TOO, DON’T STOP BEING ENTERTAINED BY ME, I WILL BE A YOUTUBER TILL THE END

WHICH I HOPE ISN’T FOR A LONG TIME

WELL DONE TO THE NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS, BEATING SEATTLE, 4TH WIN THIS CENTURY

I AM BOPPING BERNETTE PETERSON, AND I SHAKE MY HEAD TO TOE, I SHAKE ALL OVER TILL I ROCK ‘EM ALL OVER YEAH

I PARTY RIGHT, YEAH, I PARTY RIGHT

YEAH, IF YA LIKE ANGRY ANDERSON, CHECK OUT MY VIDS OF ROCK AND ROLL OUTLAW AND WE CAN’T BE BEATEN

I WILL UPLOAD MORE IN THE FUTURE, ESPECIALLY THE PARADE

SORRY FOR MY ONES THAT DIDN’T MAKE IT, MY COMPUTER ONLY ALLOWS A FEW QUICKIES A DAY, OK

AAA YOUTUBE TV, IS WHERE THE NEW UPLOADS ARE OK

THANKS TO TWITTER FOR FAVOURITING MY WE CAN’T BE BEATEN UPLOAD, OK DUDES
lotus lord Apr 2016
I watch you everyday

From random videos to watching YouTube's

You give people hobbies and jobs

You give the a chance to creative and show the world who they are

Sometimes to question runs though my mind
Do I have what it takes to be a youtuber to

I just push it aside and continue watching
AaliyahGisele Mar 2017
My stomach is weak, my stomach is cramping,
I'm on my monthly, that's why I'm crabby,
I've been feeling so grumpy and ******,
The only way I'll be calm and relaxed, is if I watch the pretty YouTuber, Bambi,
I need something to laugh at, so I go to vine and I looked up, "Young Papi".
Gerard M May 2021
Some people came to the SAVANT's home for a dinner party at his new house
But what they didn't know is that night would be a night of LIFE or DEATH
All but the SAVANT, the JOURNALIST, and the BIG GAME HUNTER died

Then the SORCERESS possesses the SAVANT and has him write more invites
But this time to a Victorian Era ball that the SAVANT didn't know of
Just like last time the night was a night of LIFE or DEATH
This time everyone but the THESPIAN and the MYSTIC died
Even the SAVANT too but was brought back to life

This time the SAVANT asked a bunch of his youtuber friends
To help him save the town of Everlock that's stuck in the 1970s
Once again it was a night of LIFE or DEATH
This time the SAVANT is alive and made it out of the town
So is the DETECTIVE and the TROUBLEMAKER who's now part of the SOCIETY AGAINST EVIL
But the DETECTIVE was RESURRECTED by a magical harp

Now the SAVANT has to save his friends who have fallen in past eras
This was the final night of LIFE or DEATH
Most of his friends died a second time but all except one died before
Just like with the DETECTIVE being RESURRECTED so was the DUCHESS
The one that didn't die before but escaped the night was the P L A Y B O Y
But this time the SAVANT didn't make it out alive but was trapped in n Pandora's Box

The only guest to ESCAPE THE NIGHT were the JOURNALIST and the BIG GAME HUNTER the first time
The second time it was the THESPIAN and the MYSTIC only
The third time it was the DETECTIVE and the TROUBLEMAKER
The forth and final time it was the DUCHESS and the P L A Y B O Y
a poem about the YouTube show Escape The Night
Gerard M Aug 2021
If Doctor Who wasn't around when I was 6
I wouldn't have ever said "BOWTIES ARE COOL"

If Edgar Allan Poe wasn't a poet that I found when I was 16
I wouldn't have ever read and said "QUOTE THE RAVEN NEVERMORE"

If MrBeast wasn't a youtuber that I became a fan of when I was 17
I wouldn't have a group of people I consider friends
Mateuš Conrad May 2017
i don't think there's a disparity between men being
more prone to painting,
        and women being more prone to writing...
you ever seen a make-up tutorial?
        you see how much "painting" a woman
makes comprehensible, to affix herself the status
of a mona lisa / madonna...
                   no amount of poetry goes into her
make-up routine...
                  as a man, you really do get a chance
to paint a mona lisa...
     given that women spend so much time pampering
themselves;
most of the time i'm repeating words from
hotel transylvania...
where frank farts behind murray's (the mummy's)
back while talking...
        just the words: you're kidding me, right?
             this is in relation to a youtuber: chloe arden...
oh believe me, i have a godmother that has a deep voice...
and she didn't shave her legs...
     being a doctor and all...
                 this is a teenager's prank of, what can't
be a "transgender" motif...
                        no man, however "trans" gender prone they
are, can compete with a woman's skill
  for applying make-up...
             they might, say... tell you something about
painting on a blank canvas... say...
                picasso's the three dancers....
  but make-up?
                         that's what i'm referencing...
                                          you're kidding me, right?
western society, has, really, become,
                                         a, synonym, for, an, asylum;
prescribing children a.d.h.d. medication...
                      is, as sadistic, as, giving a cat some l.s.d.;
the ******* won't even drink milk these days!
not like in the classic cartoons...
                          the've become lactose intolerant.
ES Oct 2017
I'd compare you to every youtuber I've subscribed with
The ads are all worth it
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
i might have riddled my fractions wrong,
the whole youtuber status
closure of
subscribers contra views,
and vice versus...

                but then i remember...
the brothel... and Turks bringing in
an array of Bulgarian prostitutes onto these
isles...

     you ever talk with criminals?!
   black sabbath('s) song...
solitude...
the dead end f night...
falling face-first into a cauldron
of autumn leaves...
to experience more of a sigh
than a breath...

i fall to my knees in praise,
O Lord...
                  govern my in my faults,
as i am to celebrate you
in your virtues...

ever talk your worth with criminals?!
the rim barons?!
  no, not once, not ever?!
shame... a real shame, to
exact a passing of judgement...

so no talk with criminals?!
               i'm this close |   |
to feeling eager stooping...
but?
i'm not...
           prostitutes
are not cheap meat...
    comes at a price...
      you want to buy that sort of flesh...
you buy from,
the ssort of vendors...
you never want to meet again...
savvy?!

    i said: savvy?!
           you want to tickle at this
underworld... **** me...
be my guest...
all you want! al you can fathom!
take your pick and periwinkle china
brigade
to "mind" manners...
      
no... you don't give your say
among these people...
you serve me your extra
and i'll cut your ***** off...
and that's me playing, nice!
******...
not here, not now...
you savvy?

you don't talk to criminals
with the way you want to talk
to them... o.k.?!
savvy?!
i said, savvy?!
you **** around here your
***** are
Brussels pâté, you *******
****!
this **** isn't even
ordinance of joining
the army...

             you join the *******
army when joining the
army...
when you enter a brothel?
you're clinging toward
a basis for... Ronin...

              want to experience
the dialectical "enterprise"?
want to talk it over with
criminals?

                   no.... you still don't get it...
mouth-off all you want...
keep talking...
           just keep talking...
i was shy...
ready to head-**** one of the Turkish
brothel Janissary....
  
since i'm of the awareness:
give me a bulls-eye,
and i'll give you a head-but!

for someone who's never
experienced genuine criminality...
the current, moral, "genuineness"....
what a,
lackluster.
The current day is May 1st, 2024. I believe I might have found Brianna. And she’s gone. . .

About eight years ago from this date, I would have my first encounter with this mysterious girl. With all of this having taken course over such a long amount of time, a lot of the details are blurry compared to how solidified they used to be to me. But, back to the first encounter, although encounter sounds more like a passive aggressive frightening experience, I’m not sure what other word I might use to describe it. Maybe it was a chance meeting or divine intervention, but encounter gets the meaning across a bit more fluently, as every time I would find this girl I would be in total shock, utter disarray, and my heart would beat so fast I’d feel as though a heart attack was right around the corner.

The first time I ever met her was through a dream. . .

I can’t remember what this particular dream was. I’m not exactly sure what happened in it, why I found it so profound, or how it even got me to begin thinking about this girl. All I know was that it got my attention and I began to pay attention to this idea, this one night miracle where I first met this mysterious woman.

The night I had that dream, I’m pretty sure I thought nothing of it. Who doesn’t have a dream every so often where they’ve met their true love, their other half, their once in a lifetime love of their life? I’ve always been a bit of a hopeless romantic and I’ve always known that this was one of my deeply ingrained character traits. From my first ever year in school in first grade, I had a very large crush on this girl, Ashley Amaya, and I remember wanting so badly to be her crush as well. I even remember a moment from school when I saw a spider crawling towards her and me while walking across a paved walkway to get to our next class, and I leapt towards it and crushed it, despite having a massive fear of the little demons at the time. But, I did it to impress her!

All that to say, the first dream wasn’t extraordinary, and instead it was just another more than usual somber morning when I woke up only to realize the beautiful woman I had just met was probably a mixture of something I ate and some tv show I’d probably seen the afternoon before. Time would go by, the memory of that first dream fading to the farthest recess of my mind with only a hint of any remote recognition still reminiscing in the deepest abyss of my head.

But, this is when what started out as a dream began to become a bit more substantial. This is when Brianna began to plague my mind.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I began to have recurring dreams of being in love with this mysterious woman. She began to become more familiar in a very inconvenient and unreliable way which was of course through the remembering of my dreams. In the beginning stages, I’d only ever catch glimpses of her face and the reset was usually a silhouette or a very rushed moment. The rushed moments were hard to describe but they were full of light, always this wonderful warm yellow light and though they were rushed, time also slowed down significantly in a perplexing way that I still can’t really understand to this day.

I’d see her dark brown hair flowing and filtering the light into these tiny and magnificent rays making a twinkling in what was usually a dark atmosphere. I’d catch the corner of her mouth turning ever so slightly into a warm beautiful smile as she looked away, something else in the vicinity stealing her attention for the moment. There were intense feelings of joy and tranquility and there was a warmth about the situation I could only hope to ever feel in the true cold and lightless world we all collectively call home. Something about her was so intensely special, and the fact that I even got to share a dream with her was the highest privilege I could’ve ever received.

As time would go on, I’d continue to have these dreams. She always stayed the same, with her long dark brownish red hair flowing ever so gracefully. It got to the point that when I would have these dreams, I would’ve preferred to not wake up, just so I could spend more time with her.

Over a year would go by. At this point in life I was still just in high school and still brand new to learning life in the real world compared to the sheltered view I used to have. I had just gotten a job at the local Home Depot as a cashier, literally a few weeks after I got my license since my parents were unwilling to pay for gas for me (as good parents should do!) I was still figuring out life with my friend groups and trying to balance the reality of starting to become more mature and take on more responsibilities while still trying to cling to my childhood of digging holes and bashing legos against the wall with my brothers! It was an odd time, which I guess many can easily familiarize themselves with the timeframe as we’ve all at one point been teenagers.

One of the biggest things in my life I remember being a bit troublesome though, was all my friends I had made and my groups of people I had become so entangled with. With going through these changes, I had some friends that were still absolute children at heart and some friends who were practically ready for college! I had loads of moments through those years where these friends I had grown up with would start to feel like strangers and I’d begin to not really feel as though I had a social place to call my own.

Work was a new outlet, and I actually used to love talking to people as a cashier, ringing up their items, and learning the social norm of small talk that would amount to nothing less than an afterthought. I made a lot of friends with people who were retired and with college kids who seemed to be the coolest bunch around, who knew how to live life and have fun doing it. It was such a variety of friends where I’d talk to Tina about her granddaughter or Jim about his retirement and stock options and then I’d go up to Isaiah and he’d tell me about all the dates he’d been on or all the party stories of him and his friends living life to the fullest. It was a pretty great time in my life though, because one thing especially it taught me was how to be social, though this process would still take years and years to fully develop until I was in my early 20’s to be fully confident in my ability to put it on and be charismatic if need be. The reason I mention so much about this job though, was there was still a deep  and unrecognized subconsciously aware desire in me to meet the one.

Home Depot of all places was the first time I saw her. In person. . .

I remember it was a day much like the rest of them. After having struck up some conversation with our customers and being a little groggy from waking up at the crack of dawn for the early shift, it was time for me to finally get some lunch. While taking my usually route from the front of the hardware store I stopped at my usual coworkers stations to say hi or make a passive joke as I strolled happily on my way.

I can’t exactly remember why, but I had the need to talk to one of my managers, and it was something I needed a response for by the end of the day, so I figured before I clocked out for lunch, I’d get that little task out of the way. But, on the way back to my manager’s office, which was this little 10 foot hallway with doors on either side, one leading to a bank of sorts, and the other side hosting two doorways to offices, I was stopped in my tracks. Right next to the old clock-in machine were two seats where you’d usually sit and wait if the manager’s doors were closed so you could catch them as they walked out. They were also the seats I had sat in when waiting to get an interview for this first job of mine, where I nervously and anxiously awaited the outcome so many years ago.

In one of those broken down, flat cushioned little seats was a girl so beautiful, I literally lost my breath at the sight of her. I knew immediately who she was. She was the girl from my dreams I had been having over the course of that past year or so. Recently through my dreams, I had learned a very crucial detail about her and that was that her name was Brianna, and there sitting right before me within a few steps walk was the girl.

I froze. I made eye contact. And I immediately turned around and walked away. How I wish beyond wishing I would’ve said hi now. . .

Seeing that my manager was currently in the process of onboarding her as a new employee, I decided to take up my little question with my manager a bit later and I went to lunch. While walking into our break room, I ran into one of my new co-workers who I had become pretty good friends with. His name was Brad Brad.

At this point in time, I had more of an idea and more of a recognition of the fact that these recurring dreams of mine were something special, though I hardly let anyone know because of how embarrassing and odd it was. I mean, who would go around blindly telling people about some chick that they’d been dreaming of that they were totally in love with?? (Definitely not me eight years late. . . ) But with Brad Brad, I trusted him and had told him about the story a few days prior to running into her.

Not knowing her name and only having seen her face, I walked up to my friend and asked him about the new possible employee. He immediately knew who I was referring to her as he had seen her just a bit ago and apparently gotten to know her slightly! I asked him if her name was Brianna, being almost definitively sure that that was her name, and just wanting to check to see if I was either certifiably insane, or possibly blessed with this odder than life knowledge.

Brad immediately confirmed her name was Brianna and asked if I had spoken with her, and this immediately had me out of breath, terrified of how the girl from my dreams was truly true and realer than life. I don’t remember exactly how the rest of the conversation went down, though I can safely assume I was blabbering like a lunatic and telling him every single detail of every single dream I had had of her before. I walked out to get lunch knowing that I’d finally become acquainted with Brianna over time in the work atmosphere which was a relief to me, knowing how social I was at work while in comparison to how introverted and quiet I was at school. Life was looking to good to be true.

Brianna, didn’t get the job.

A few days would go by and my excitement to go to work was through the roof. Never before had I had so eagerly gotten in my car, driven to work, and immediately clocked in in hopes of seeing this new girl around the work place. A week would go by and my thoughts of her were still as excited as ever, but I began to realize that there was still training, a full on hiring process, and that it would most likely take time for things to get in motion. A few weeks would go by and then a month and an unsettling worry began to haunt me as I started to wonder if she didn’t actually get the job.

I started going around asking all of my fellow co-workers if they knew her or if they had any ideas of if we were hiring anyone new. I became obsessed with what we called the, “war board,” which was a schedule of all cashiers’ schedules for the day, what departments they would work in and so forth so on. But, I never saw Brianna’s name pop up, and I began to realize that I might have missed my one and only chance of getting to talk to Brianna.

As time progressed I finally decided it was time to talk to Brad about this new girl since he had been the only one I had talked to about her, and this is when the strangest thing ever happened. Brad had absolutely no idea who I was talking about. He could tell I was obsessed with the idea though and he saw how persistent I was that I had had the conversation with him before, and he even sympathetically lied to me about knowing her just to appease my insanity by saying,

“Ohhhh yeahhhhhhhhh! I remember who you’re talking about!”

I was crushed that the only person who knew her didn’t remember her and at the time I’m unsure of why I didn’t ask my manager to see if they knew who I was talking about. Maybe it was embarrassment or the thought of not being able to see other potential employee’s information that scared me. Either way, I wish I had asked more and been more determined in finding information on what had happened to Brianna.

Months and months on end would go by and the fascination with work would disappear as I got older. I’d check the war board on a pretty consistent basis always hoping that by some miracle, Brianna would show up to work for the day! And even though we eventually would go on to hire an incredible Brianna that I’d become such dear friends with, she wasn’t the same one.

I remember how I used to day dream about Brianna walking into the store and how I would recognize her and how we’d instantly fall in love. Especially on those hot hot Summer days when I was stuck in the garden department with nothing but my thoughts and a dream. As life began to progress though, I realized I didn’t want to only dream about Brianna. . . but I wanted to find her! What good was all my wallowing around if I didn’t make any active attempts to find her!

Thus began, the searching for Brianna. What might just be an everlasting one. . .

I began to take a reality check on this recurring girl who haunted my every thought and when wondering on how I would find a girl from my literal dreams, I thought maybe the first best place to look would be there! Literally in my dreams. I took on an idea I had borrowed from the movie Inception where first thing in the morning, if you try to remember your dreams you’d have a better chance of seeing more details.

Doing more research into this line of thought, I read about dream journals and how some people keep entries of their nightly subconscious activities in order to become better at what’s called lucid dreaming, where basically, you have full and utter control of the dream and realize that you’re in it while still sleeping. My dream journal over time would start to slowly fill and fill with some pretty crazy stories and hilarious dreams. Actually, I wonder if I still have it. If I can find it, I’ll drought down one of my entries here for you to read. . . whoever “you” might be.

I won’t lie when I say I found it in about one minute. It was sitting on my desk right next to me. Oddly enough, my first journal entry is far further in this story than I thought as it was written on October 9th, 2022 (thank God I wrote down dates!) Here goes my first entry.

10-09-22 (#1)

My first dream, I remember being at Home Depot, working while pushing carts. I was very sick and delusional and the atmosphere was rainy and dark. All I could feel was gloom and sadness. There was no one to help me which added to the exhaustion. A customer managed to break 3 carts in half and I had to try and fix them, but I couldn’t. The feeling of wanting to go home was very strong.

10-09-22 (#2)

This time I was in a small class with two other men. It was our first day and our professor was already making us write books worth of homework. But, she soon assigned us Minecraft assignments and the rest of the class was devoted to playing Minecraft. A mixture of falling while playing the game repeatedly occurred and was frightening, yet exhilarating and fun.

Though my timeline of the dream journal and me beginning to write it might be skewed in this story I’ve been telling, as you can see from October 9th’s dreams of the year 2022, it was in fact something I started to do. There were quite a few pages from this journal missing and I can’t recall if they were pages of old homework from school and the notebook was one I self-recycled or not. But, I thought I had started writing these way earlier in my life. Maybe one day, I’ll write up all of these dreams into some sort of official funny document, but as of right now, they’ll all stay in that book. It might honestly be for the better!

Either way, it’s obviously apparent that I became obsessed with this idea of Brianna and I began to play my life events in my head over and over again, and this might have been harmful to me later on, but at the early stages of these occurrences, I was very much into reading. Being the introvert that I was in school, and having no access to a smart device, I used to read so so so many books all the time! My best friend in high school wasn’t any other student really but the faculty and staff, specifically our school librarian Mrs. Hogue.

Every time I’d walk into that library which was probably like twice a week, she’d see me and know it was time for me to become obsessed with a new story or spend the next however many months of my life engrossed in a series. I absolutely loved Mrs. Hogue and while she was very strict with all the other obnoxious kids, she loved me too. We used to talk about life and such and the day I graduated, she was one of the people I made sure of to talk to her and wish her a goodbye to.

Anyways, this obsession with writing and reading of mine was one that really flourished during high school due to these circumstances. It feels rather odd writing now when I haven’t gone about it aside from formal essays and school work since specifically 2018.

2018 was the year that I decided to run with a lot of these creative concepts my mind had created over Brianna and turn them into an actual book with full on character development, a family for Brianna, a place to live and friendships and occupations of all sorts! This is why I mentioned just earlier that this might’ve been more harmful to me, because, sometimes I can’t remember with Brianna what’s memories and what’s a figment of my imagination developed by a creative and passionate former younger writer of myself.

Either way, at this point in my life you could tell I was so devoted to the idea of Brianna being a real person, and this one specific idea plagued me like no other.

The idea was that Brianna was also dreaming of me and that we could only communicate through our collective dreams.

This idea for a young hopeless romantic was intensely alluring and from this idea became the now published and only book of mine, “The Fracture of Reality.” In this book, there’s two main characters named Ian and Brianna. Ian oddly enough matches almost identically all my physical and intellectual traits, some of the only differences being him having a place of his own, a pretty successful job and a bit more muscle, almost as though he were a version of myself I hope to one day be.

Brianna, well, she was and is the Brianna that I know.

The premise of this book was, well how should I put it? Better yet, I’ll just plug in the summary from the back of the book I wrote many years ago!

“Dreams and reality are relatively similar terms. Dreams describe and amplify events that occur in reality whereas reality can capture what little glimpses of the dreams remain. But, it never occurred to me that the two could blur together. Only when it was too late did I start to realize that reality was fracturing…”

Although this summary doesn’t really expound on what the book was about, only now do I find it so profound that I established this saying, this line of thought while I was still younger. I’ll write to you now that the basic premise of the story was a bit of a thriller! Ian begins to have these dreams where he meets and speaks to this mysterious tranquil and beautiful girl. He starts to fall in love with her as he slowly begins to realize that she is in fact real and having dreams of him also. But, with his dreams comes the slow beginning of his down fall where his dreams start to predict horrific events that will occur relatively soon. Along with the dreams comes the mental breaking down of his sanity with a deadly progression exponentially on it’s way to happen far too soon. Through the connecting of his dreams, he needs to find Brianna who he hopes when finding her, will stop the terrifying decline of his conscious nature.

In the end, and [insert spoiler warning here hehe], Ian finally meets up with Brianna only to have one of his dreams predict a horrible event of him and her being hunted by some men that Brianna had gotten in bad with during her youthfully naïve years. The story ends with Brianna and Ian in a cottage after Ian in real life has been shot. The story ends with Ian being unsure as to whether or not his dream reality is real life, or if his reality with the pain of the bullet in him is the truth. Brianna tells him that it doesn’t matter, and tries to convince him that the current peaceful reality that they’re currently in? That that moment and that present feeling is real, and that’s what really truly matters.

Look at me, doing a synopsis of my own books six years later! Writing this book and creating my dream journal and doing research was really the first phase of my obsession with Brianna. The older I’d get though, the more it’d become real to me. I’m unsure as to whether the past eight years of my life has made this idea so authentically real to me, but now I see this all as fact rather than speculation and a possible decline in my sanity that I used to be subconsciously aware of.

More years would progress in my life and would lead to the graduation of my high school and the starting up of college at my community college. There, I’d me one of my best friends which will most likely be my best friend for life KJ, but it was also a time of maturing and shying away from the ideas of Brianna as much. Rather than focusing on the idea of her, instead I got so busy with work at Home Depot, balancing friendships at community college, and still trying to socialize with my family that I hardly thought of her.

But, circumstances would change and even though I went a while without thinking about her, she was always there. When I began my first semester at Columbia State and accidentally sat next to this absolutely beautiful girl named, you guessed it, “Brianna,” I thought that she was her! Only to find out like literally two days into the semesters that she was married, whoops! But I still became friends with her and weird stuff like that would occur every so often, but at this point in time, life was changing so rapidly and my mind was always so distracted that Brianna began to fade.

I’d still have my occasional dreams and when those hit, it’d be more difficult than it used to be. The feeling of wanting to stay in those dreams was so strong and so hard to swallow when I woke up and realized it’d only been in my head.

With school starting though, my priorities changed a lot in life! My job was the least of my concerns at Home Depot and I’d more often than not skip all of my shifts as it always drained me of all my energy having to socialize with a bunch of people I didn’t care for or care about. All the small talk became irritating and whenever I was there, I guess I had come to associate that little hardware store with the idea of loss and gloom. I mean, if my dream journal didn’t speak enough for itself, I think it’s because I missed out on my one and only chance to actually talk to Brianna.

My new priorities were to make as many friends as possible and to turn this new page in life and that’s exactly what I did! I was incredibly social and went out of my way to introduce myself to total strangers just to try and escape the old Mike and pursue a new version of him.

It wouldn’t take long for Brianna to come back to me though.

Nobody that tells you how quickly life goes by can truly explain the depths of what that means and you sort of need to experience it yourself, and with the pandemic of Covid-19 happening around 2020, those two years at community school and the two years at MTSU would go by like a wisp of air. Like a breath, **** the time went by. Sure there was quite a bit of stuff that happened throughout that time, like me beginning to fall in love with creating content through YouTube about Minecraft, getting internships and freelance work for my degree as a Graphic Designer where I won competitions and published my art in many places and had the opportunities to be in a crazy high end internship.

But the amount of time, was just literally gone. I was too busy. Brianna became an afterthought.

That is, until fairly recently. To drop some dates for you, I created my first official youtube channel on September 18th, 2019 and published my first video four years ago a day after I made the channel. At first, my channel of Minecraft specific content was created both to prove to my brothers that I could create content as incredible as the youtubers we watched, but it was also just in hopes of turning it into an actual career since it was something I genuinely was okay at. Having had architecture for for years in high school Minecraft felt like a more creative and liberating way to express those abilities and live them out in an actual environment I had created. But also, Minecraft was an excuse for me to turn off my mind.

Covid and the pandemic was sort of the greatest thing to ever happen to me, because it gave me so much time to think and play this wonderful game. I know I mentioned above how I didn’t think about Brianna that much, and that part is true, but when I had those dry moments of playing Minecraft and grinding out some simple tasks of literally just breaking and placing blocks, my mind would wander to her. I used to choose the most essentially mind numbing tasks of mining for hours upon hours which only consisted of holding down a button and occasionally moving your character around to mine some more. But though the task was completely and utterly boring, my mind was active as ever thinking and wondering about Brianna.

Finding these quiet moments in life were far and few between, but I began to cherish them. All the moments from day dreaming while mowing the lawn and sweating to death in the 100 degree sun, to sitting in my car after a long first four hours at Home Depot while staring at a semi-vacant parking lot, to even just the long walks across my enormous campus at MTSU or the long walk from parking spots I chose purposefully to be super far away from my campus at Columbia State. These moments while rare, gave me a chance to keep Brianna at least in the back light of all the real life moments I was constantly distracted and thrown around with.

But, going back to Minecraft when I got into youtube, this changed everything.

I went from having at least some spare moments to having literally no moments at all. The only time I would rest was when I had experienced such bad burn out from trying to do everything everywhere all at once, and between that and the occasional sleep I would get, my mind had no time to think. I still can easily get into that workaholic mind set sometimes and it’s a dangerous one to be in, but I’ve gotten better as I’ve figured out why I believe I fell into that mindset in the first place.

The reason was to escape Brianna’s grasp.

As I went through school hanging out with friends and making new one’s internationally through the development of an ever expanding youtube channel, I had just about no time for anything. The only time I had to stop and think was my 10 minute drive to get food and even in those moments, I had no time to think, because I was too busy driving trying not to get killed by crazy drivers.

Three years of school went by before I finally said that enough was enough. With school being as difficult as it was, I decided to “retire” from my newfound love of youtube because in all honesty, it was driving me mad. My retirement video from Minecraft came out on December 5th, 2022. I stepped away from the never ending grind and set out to enjoy life and the little moments that life offered.

The only problem with this was that my mind began to ponder Brianna once again.

At this time in my life, after retiring I was actually working for a famous youtuber named PrestonPlayz. It was a random freelance job and for the past year or so I had been jumping from freelance to freelance work with little regards to cost and payments real life had always waiting around the corner for me.

This would make me end up ultimately getting a job back at Home Depot for a few months to pay off debts I had incurred from being financially stupid and buying stuff I didn’t really need. But, between all the financial problems and weird life situations I had so much more time to think about Brianna. The dreams of her still occurred every so often but the frequency at which they had started to occur was less and less. Maybe this was all due to me reaching a new level of maturity, but I’m still not entirely sure what caused it. Maybe it was the distraction of a busy workaholic life or the hopes to find someone, really anyone that was a girl that would love me that I could love back.

But, like I said my mind began to think about her more and more. I began to see her in my thoughts like I had years ago previously and it almost felt like I was back sliding into some weird territory I had just grown oblivious to with the amount of time that had passed. Either way, that was my life. A jumbled mess of thoughts and ideas all scattered in a brain far too busy to stop and breathe coming to the new age of silence and habit.

With my mind able to breathe, I thought of her again. . . and then I saw her again. . .

I can’t remember the exact day or time of year, but on one of these days of my “retirement” I was driving home after having just gotten some taco bell. (I was obsessed with the place back then) Driving up my street, I saw a girl with long dark curly hair and bright pink clothes, what might have even been pajama pants on her, walking up my street! I didn’t think much of it until I looked into my sider mirror and saw her face and saw that it was the one and only, Brianna.

Brianna was walking up my street right next to my house. In person. Alive and breathing.

I panicked and jumped out of my car with my taco bell nearly crashing to the ground as I roared into park in my driveway with my car. With bare feet, since I used to drive with no shoes when I went to fast food place, I dove onto an aggregate driveway and started running down it, knowing that there was no way on earth I was missing my chance to finally talk to her. I had nothing but time that day, and I was overly excited to finally introduce myself in person

But when I turned around, Brianna was gone. She’d simply vanished into thin air? I still don’t know how or why, but she was gone. . . possibly gone forever. . .

This experience drove my efforts to find her to another level of passion as I began to research through many google forums and sites and social media platforms praying to God that I’d be able to find her. It didn’t matter if I had to cross the entire ocean to get to her, I was going to find Brianna, no matter what.

I started to revisit old ground and went to the Home Depot I had worked at, asking the new manager there if he could search records and being able to find her that way. I found old coworkers I used to work with and asked around trying to find any trail or any lead and couldn’t find a single thing. I even managed to find Brad Brad’s Instagram and messaged him only for him to have literally no idea what I was talking about, go figure.

With nothing working and having literally no idea on what else I could do, I began to passionately work on a project called, “The Bri of My Dreams.” What this basically was was an ARG or alternate reality game which was a puzzle game I setup for my prior youtube community to solve and have fun with. But, it was more than that. It was the telling of the story of Brianna in a way that I could hopefully publicize and gain some popularity on so that maybe instead of me finding Brianna, she’d be able to rather find me! So, I started working on it behind the scenes unbeknownst to anyone in my community that I was going to use this new found passion project to hopefully find her, but also to bring me back to youtube content creation.

To this day, I’m still not sure why I wanted to go back to youtube. Well I know some underlying reasons, that being tied loosely to Brianna, but now many months later still being at it, I’m unsure as to the real reason why I still create stuff on there.

Either way, after creating an entire animated short film with a script and what I consider to be one of my greatest projects of all time, “The Bri of My Dreams” project was finalized and ready to publish. I put it out there hoping that it was only a matter of time before I finally heard from her.

Hardly anyone noticed I’d returned to youtube, let alone my project failing horribly as only close friends I knew even attempted the puzzles.

My final efforts produced literally no results, and well, this brings me to about right now, this moment that I’m actually writing this all down on May 1st 2024 at 4:21 p.m CDT. For the past few hours I’ve written down all of this while listening to The Caretaker album on youtube, a depressing soundtrack meant to represent the stages of alzheimer's.

This morning while sitting around doing nothing really, I looked up Brianna one last time, despite me telling myself I would be done with her after my ARG project. I found a girl, about the same age as me that matched the name and the description. Her father’s name was funnily enough the same as my own, Michael.

What I found about her and her father were obituary statements.

I’m unsure if it’s okay or morally right to even think that might’ve been her, but something I noticed when doing research about Brianna in my earlier days. . . For some odd reason there’s a lot of young beautiful Briannas who unfortunately die in their early 20’s. It’s an odd and horrifying fact I’ve come to know over the past few years through my odder than odd research.

But, this case I found today? Well the exact date this Brianna died on correlated almost exactly when my dreams stopped of her.

I don’t dream of Brianna anymore. I haven’t for years. . .

I think the reason I’m writing this, is my own way of finally saying goodbye. Wherever she is, I hope she’s okay. I hope she’s well. But as for me, life continues to go on and it’s finally time after these past eight years to finally say. . .

Goodbye Brianna. I’ll miss you. . .

— The End —