Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Throat Singing
this guy is damn good at it. It's one of those things that i think would be interesting to learn how to do, but would be absolutely pointless.
http://www.wimp.com/throatsinging/
http://www.wimp.com/throatsinging/
They found the vikings!
check this out. it's pretty awesome. it's like they just opened to a new page of history.
http://www.spiegel.de/international/germany/0,1518,714235,00.html
also
http://wrongcards.com/ecard/occasional-improprieties
http://www.spiegel.de/international/germany/0,1518,714235,00.html
also
http://wrongcards.com/ecard/occasional-improprieties
Friday, August 27, 2010
A Poem From My Dark Mind
The world.
It's denizens.
My mind swallows itself in an anguished cry to be felt.
Pain.
I peer down into the gaping maw that has become my life. Deep in the black abyss i spy myself.
Not my current self.
It's myself as a child. Sitting. Turned away from my view as if disgusted by my distant presence. The clothes are ragged and dirty, chewed by my disturbingly child fanged mouth.
I disgust him.
He sits there, twisting the heads on small animals. Their whimper and cries suddenly silenced by a *pop* when the torque has become too much for their brittle bones.
They wish to run.
Much like I wish to run from myself. From this dark world that has belched me forth. But much like the creatures, i can't move. I can't only feel the pain.
I can only feel... the pain.
As i'm drawn up again and again by my dark, child-like nature.
It's denizens.
My mind swallows itself in an anguished cry to be felt.
Pain.
I peer down into the gaping maw that has become my life. Deep in the black abyss i spy myself.
Not my current self.
It's myself as a child. Sitting. Turned away from my view as if disgusted by my distant presence. The clothes are ragged and dirty, chewed by my disturbingly child fanged mouth.
I disgust him.
He sits there, twisting the heads on small animals. Their whimper and cries suddenly silenced by a *pop* when the torque has become too much for their brittle bones.
They wish to run.
Much like I wish to run from myself. From this dark world that has belched me forth. But much like the creatures, i can't move. I can't only feel the pain.
I can only feel... the pain.
As i'm drawn up again and again by my dark, child-like nature.
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