chp 1

"An inner crumbling. Your structure is weak, unstable pieces tumble down into the darkness. Its like you're trying to grab onto something you know won't hold your weight. You're frustrated and waiting for it all to collapse onto you, so frantically, you begin to think of a way out, but all the answers seem like your typical impossible fantasy; flight, turning into a ghost, Spider Man. The task is daunting, and the thoughts are draining. It seems like the only option left is defeat."

"That is... quite troubling to hear, Clark," his doctor decided mechanically, "but when I asked about what you're feeling I meant in your rectum."

Clark disappointingly remembered the finger in his ass.

"Oh... um... just some tension, nothing irregular," he murmured uncomfortably.

"Right, well, I regret to inform you that you have a completely healthy colon and I'm not sure why you've been experiencing rectal bleeding," the doctor said to the wall clock. "Just try and eat healthier and if it persists then just give me a call."

The doctor left promptly, leaving Clark to deal with what was now a strange sense of abandonment.


On his way home, Clark pieced together the tatters of his life, trying desperately to fit them together to find the missing piece. Lately, life had felt grey and slow. A giant ticking clock constantly followed him, its noise drowning out all conversation, all music, all ambiance. The color red was no longer a bold and impassioned representation of the human life blood splattered across a canvas, it was the color fucking red. The warm nights no longer had thoughtful paces, but quick glances and ready hands. Home was hot rotting in a wet cave.  People were gentle ghosts.

And to top it all off rectal bleeding was now on the list of ever-growing troubles already plaguing his sickly mind.

Clark drove without music nowadays. It cluttered his thoughts. Buildings all felt the same rolling by without a tune, but when the car settled things felt more open. At stoplights his gaze would linger on the horizon of the trees, the shapes in the clouds, the people... that woman on the bench in the green dress.

Suddenly, Clark was attentive to his posture. The woman had smooth, flowing red hair.

"Like... like burning hot lava," he thought passionately.

Slender, pale skinned arms, shapely legs, an inviting bosom.; he imagined a blanketed hearth and warm melted chocolate.

Green eyes flashed up at him, from behind a small black book. She pointed lightly.

Clark turned to the now green stoplight, and merely blinked.

"Did I just hallucinate? Did the light just speak to me?" he wondered.

Moving down the road, he took one last glance in the rear view mirror.

"Anyway, she's probably a slut," Clark snapped at himself as he turned on the radio, "fuck girls like that."

♪Come and smile your cares away
In a far off land in the sun
Your mind won't have time to worry
You'll be having too much fun♪

The song reminded him of simpler times.

That night Clark searched the internet for answers.

Meditation can often be key to achieving a healthier mental state! Relaxing the mind and body has been shown to improve moods, stress levels, and overall function.

He scrolled down.

An easy way to begin the meditation process is to simply find a calm and quiet place, and begin to take deep, controlled breaths. Imagine your thoughts floating away from your mind and into the infinite universe. Erase the border between you and your environment.

He sat down in a position he had seen before on television, and began to count his breaths.

One, two, three, four. His doctor visit floated away.

One, two, three, four. His family, his work, they evaporated.

One, two, three, four. His breathing slowed, his began to forget his body.

One, two, three, four. The woman stared at him from the back of his brain.

One, two, three, four. The shining green eyes would not look away.

♪Come and smile your cares away

In a far off land in the sun

Your mind won't have time to worry

You'll be having too much fun♪

He gave up and receded into a shower.

I started to write again. Whether or not this is a short burst of inspiration or not I'm not quite sure yet. Maybe I just had a good idea and I wanted to put it into words. Anyway, I wrote it down and hopefully I can finish it. I've been spending a lot of time thinking. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. For those not familiar with the happenings in my life I worked in Columbia for a bit and then when I came back to Springfield I found myself in a bit of a rut. Just as I was getting things started in Columbia it all came to a halt and I was thrust back into the arena that is the skullduggery of Springfield, Missouri. When I was younger I didn't get it. I thought it would be easy to escape a prison like this. But contrary to a recent movie with Sylvester Stalone and Ahnold Schwarzenegger might lead me to believe, escaping a prison is no easy matter. When I came back here I thought long and hard about what my next move would be. I decided I wanted to do something that meant a lot to me. I didn't just wanna conform to the normal nine to five that everyone else seemed to be doing, whether that be school, or a shitty ass fucking job. What I wanted to do was find a life that I could be happy with, even if it was less than ideal, at least I could justify it to myself and others. And the more I've thought about it the more I've come to realize that doesn't exist. Why doesn't it exist? I guess that's the question. I've just been a whirlwind of thinking and no action. I'm stuck inside my head. I can't escape this. Either way, I hope I'll continue my writing because until recently I didn't think anyone cared about it. I think people appreciate the post but hopefully nobody minds the ranting and whatever nonsense I typically spread.


- Marcus <3

Day 84 - The Skeleton

Finger bones grasped my ankles.

"You'll die a child lost to time," the skeleton explained to me.

I began to pace the dark cave.

"I could fix that. Somehow, couldn't I?"

"Perhaps, but you never will."

"Are people organized in a pyramid? There must be some way to ascend."

"It's not likely. Not in these times. Besides, you'll rot alone and afraid all the same."

"What do you mean? Death is natural, I am not afraid," I convinced myself.

"Why do you think the old are so willing to die once they are there? Everything has rotten away, people and all, and the future is not as beautiful as it would seem. After a life of getting through each day hoping for a better future, it does not seem as enticing when you finally get there. Old bones wish for a happy ending, and in the end that is Death," the skeleton explained.

His bones clattered along the rocks as I walked around, constantly interrupting my thoughts.

"How can you be so sure? You were never even alive," I retorted angrily.

"That's true, but I am inside you all the time aren't I? The only time I truly get to shine is once you are gone, never forget," the skeleton reminded me.

I sighed, he had a point.

"Well I don't care about when I'm gone, I'm not going to be here after all! What can you tell me about my time I spend here?"

"How should I know? You're the one that should tell me," the skeleton explained once again.

"Well how can I know if I'm not done yet?!" I began to get frustrated with the skeleton.

"I suppose I could say the same."

day 83 - overdue rants

I apologize for not posting anything recently. I've been chasing a dream of mine and that's been consuming a great deal of my time. I've also spent a lot of my time running away. I wish everyone could grow up having an asian parent so they know what I've been going through. I genuinely think that growing up in this country with one asian parent is a tragedy, and two is just a nightmare. In asian culture everyone basically strives to be a small business owner or something of the like, something with a minor amount of respect and something that is totally boring and shitty. If any of you know me, you know that is not me. So you can see how my mom and I butt heads to the extreme nearly every day. She's at a point in her life where she's getting too old to work. She is getting arthritis really bad in her hands and since her job involves her hands she has been forced to resign to teaching others and trying to make money that way. However, that means in her home life she needs somebody to help around the house. Lord knows my brother and sister won't do shit, they're just like me, they think that school and instrument lessons are already too much (which to be fair, with the way my mom treats those things, they are), and my shitty ass step dad obviously doesn't do fucking anything at all except be a dick to my siblings, so that generally leaves things up to me.


Now this wouldn't normally be that big of a deal except for the fact that I'm under constant pressure to either go back to school or get a job, both of which not only feel like a waste of time to me, but also feel like giving up. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure I'll still get a job just because I really, REALLY, need the money right now, but my last job left me with a bit of a salty taste in my mouth and again, if any of you know me, you know I'm not the kind of guy to give up TIME for MONEY, especially when it involves sucking someone else's dick for 10 hours a day doing something monotonous. But of course, my mom doesn't understand these things, and why should she? That's all she's done her entire life, and I appreciate that, but things are different for me. She worked her entire life for me to be able to chase my dreams so WHY ISN'T SHE FUCKING LETTING ME!!?


Ugh, I have so many frustrations right now. I need to get out of here. Living in my mom's basement is a living hell, and as soon as I get a job I can move out, so I guess that's what I have to do. But it feels so bad. It feels like resigning to a life of shit. And I feel like there's not one single person who relates to what I want, how I feel, or what I want from life.


And don't even get me started on girls. Do you know how hard it is to scrape together the courage to ask a girl out when you have no money and still live with your mom? It's impossible.


Maybe this was too much information but I've always been one for transparency.

- Marcus <3

day 82 - absolution

"Write drunk; edit sober." - Ernest Hemingway

i crave that absolution
i desire that instituion
i feel like resolution
is just a substitution

infinity is not everything
a fool can be a king
in our deepest fears will ring
a dead and withered wing

melodies heard
and emotions stirred
a life in the end
is all you can tend









I have something I'm writing but I wanted to take a little bit of time with it, so while I'm still writing every day I might not be posting for a few. To make up for it, here's a playlist of a few songs that I like.

day 81 - ticking

From dusk till dawn
through every yawn
a ticking noise is ticking

a man wakes up
his life is gone
he felt it much too quickly

and never seen
his realized dreams
but this is all there could be

day 81 - boat

A young boy recently told me a riddle. One of those riddles you hear as a child that makes you feel all the wiser from just being able to parrot it back.

"How far can a dog run into a forest?"

"Um... you know, I'm not sure. How far?"

I decided to play along for his sake, remembering how I had hated know-it-all no fun adults, and sure enough he snapped right back.

"Half way! After that it's running out of the forest!"

At the time I hadn't the heart to tell him that I never liked that one in particular either. Maybe it was because I thought about it too much, but I always imagined the dog getting ten feet into the forest only to get caught in a bear trap or to drown in a lake.

The salty ocean air reprimanded me for thinking about it a second time with a graze across the cheek, and I supposed it was right. Retiring to the warmth of my cabin was anything but reassuring. A relaxing journey into the great beyond! - the advertisement had promised. Surely an oxymoron, I had thought at the time, but I did my best to prove myself wrong in the spirit of my journey. I emptied my pack onto the luxurious stained sheets.

"First thing's first," I felt it necessary to say aloud.

I grabbed the old bottle of wine I had saved for just such boredom.

"And of course, no need for formalities."

I drank with the thirst of a dying man, it only felt right.

As the sun sank under the water and the boat began to quiet, I retrieved the candle and matches I had so romantically decided to bring. I struck the first match but finished with that. The flame became my mistress of the night. I found it rather interesting, the concept of a match, at the time. Simply a small stick made to be burned up. I wished dearly for someone to strike me, to start my fire and let it consume me until I was nothing but a pile of hot ash. The match burnt my fingers and I lit another, bidding my first mistress adieu and lighting my candle with the second.

I laid on my bed staring at the candle, thinking back to the old riddle. That night I dreamed of the boat catching on fire, not quite making it half way across the ocean.

day 80 - new adventures

day 79 - basically thursday

day 78 - tiny pony

One day there was a tiny pony. Tiny Pony was not like other ponies, however. Tiny Pony was more like a human. Tiny Pony could stand on his hind two legs and talk just like a person might. For this reason, Tiny Pony was very different. Tiny Pony tried to find his place in the world, just as you might.

"I know! I'll be a baker!" thought Tiny Pony.

Tiny Pony worked hard to get his baker's license. He opened up a modest bakery in his mountainside hometown and called it 'The You Can Do It! Bakery'.

Tiny Pony wanted to inspire others to follow their passions and find their place in the world, just as Tiny Pony had done.

However, Tiny Pony's success was short lived.

The FDA shut down Tiny Pony's bakery saying it was unsanitary for a horse to prepare baked goods with the same hooves he used to walk around on. Tiny Pony had nothing left. As a pony he did not have many of the same rights as people might have, and so Tiny Pony was left to the streets. With nothing left to lose, and a desire for a place in the world, Tiny Pony set out to climb the enormous mountain that provided the town with its beautiful backdrop.

As Tiny Pony began his ascent, he began to think about his life. Nobody had taught Tiny Pony how to talk and think. He had learned those things on his own. And nobody had helped Tiny Pony when he was going to baking school! Nobody had even helped him after he opened up The You Can Do It! Bakery. The only thing anyone had ever done for him was cast him aside because he was a tiny pony. But that was okay because Tiny Pony didn't need anyone else. Tiny Pony had started that bakery and Tiny Pony was the one who was going to climb this mountain!

Tiny Pony took these thoughts with him all the way up the mountain. Through the rocky paths, the mysterious forests, and the icy peril of the mountains peak. When Tiny Pony finally reached the mountain's top, he felt victory as he had never felt it before. The peak was wide and clear, with plenty of room for Tiny Pony to frolic. And frolic he did. Tiny Pony had never felt so happy, so alive. He looked down the mountain at the town below, and cursed them for ever doubting Tiny Pony. He even looked up, right into the heavens and cursed the face of God for trying to stop him by making him a tiny pony.

When Tiny Pony's tears of anger and joy had finally run out, Tiny Pony sat down and opened his pack. He heaved a great sigh out of his pony lungs and into the frigid air. Tiny Pony's favorite symphony rang in his ears as he unsheathed his samurai sword, and after a lifetime of challenges, Tiny Pony did the most challenging thing of all at the mountain's peak. Tiny Pony ended his life with seppuku. In his dying moments Tiny Pony thought of home, and a quote from Kurt Cobain. 'It is better to burn out than to fade away.'

"Yes..." Tiny Pony thought as his innards lay strewn about him.

"Yes, it is..."


Little did he know, however, that his adventures had not gone unnoticed. The townspeople had noticed their not-so-beloved tiny pony was missing, and followed his hoof prints to the base of the mountain. The townspeople thought that, surely, no pony could climb the mountain, not even a giant pony! And Tiny Pony was certainly not of any large stature. So the townspeople decided to call upon the greatest mountain climber among them, Bjorgen, to solve their mystery. Bjorgen took on the task with great zeal.

"I will find Tiny Pony and save him from the perils of the mountain!" he proclaimed to the townspeople.

"I will bring him back to the town where he can live happily among the other ponies!"

Bjorgen climbed. He thought of his own place in the world, a mountain climbing hero. "What glory I will have!" he thought. His excitement took him to the mountain's peak in half as much time as it normally would have taken him. There he found the frozen remains of Tiny Pony. Bjorgen did not know what to make of the scene. It seemed as if someone had gutted Tiny Pony with a samurai sword! He opened Tiny Pony's pack to see what laid within.

All he pulled out was a single note.

To whom it may concern,

     My name is Tiny Pony. My name is thusly because that is what I am. I have performed the act of seppuku upon myself on this very mountaintop. Not so much because I feel dishonored, but more because it is dramatic and I felt it fitting for a mountaintop suicide. Please know that my death did not come from grief, or anger, or any form of negativity at all. Know that my death came from joy. The indescribable joy that I felt when I reached this peak, overcame all my weakness, and conquered what felt like not just this one peak, but the entire world. It was in this feeling of triumph that I wanted to remain forever. If the supernatural realm dictates that any part of my spirit is allowed to linger here, it will, for I can imagine no greater feeling than the one I have on this mountaintop, alone, and happy.

Tiny Pony

Bjorgen found himself shedding many tears. Never had Bjorgen cried in his entire life.

"Only blood and sweat has my body given forth," whispered Bjorgen to the frozen corpse of Tiny Pony, "and now tears. I will make sure the town knows what you did, Tiny Pony. I will tell them, for it is my place."

When Bjorgen returned to the base of the mountain the townspeople were waiting for him.

"Where is the small horse?" an anxious and annoying old woman asked.

"He has reached the peak, as none of you thought he could, but now he has moved to where he belongs." Bjorgen told them.

"Where is that tiny pony moving that he can feel belonged?" cried an even more annoying old woman.

Bjorgen sat down next to a campfire and stared into the burning embers.

"On."

day 77 - im a shitty writer

So this has been on my mind lately. I've spoken about this a couple times and I don't think people ever understand what I'm getting at so I'm going to explain it now. Sometimes I talk about how I wish I was born a woman or that I could somehow magically turn into one, not because of any sexual reason or anything like that, but because of societal pressures. I know that women have their fair share of it. They have the pressure to look good, cook, you know, do "women things". The thing is, that issue is very out there at this point, and if a woman wants to deviate from that most people who are worth a damn will be completely fine with that. Bouncing over to men, however, presents a slightly different dynamic. Let me try and put it like this. When you're a man you have the pressures to be a "Man". To be the breadwinner, the support that a family leans on and the head of a household. To be strong, bold, y'know... "manly". The pressure for success on women is a lot less than it is for men. I hate that. Anyway, I'm not explaining this the way I wanted to at all. What I'm trying to say is society punishes a man for wanting to do something other than work and support a family whereas its more lenient towards women and passivity and submissiveness is more acceptable for a woman. I also think that each gender needs to embrace their differences. I really hate that a popular idea is "Women = Men so we should act as such". NO. NO. NO. Women and men are not the same, they are different, thats the idea. If men and women were really equal they'd have the same genitals the same societal positions and it WOULD HAVE JUST HAPPENED THAT WAY. Men and women are different, and I think the sooner we embrace those differences the quicker everyone learns to fucking get along. I'm pretty sure this all just sounds really sexist and not eloquent at all which is what I was going for.

Anyway, gonna be trying to write every day or at least more often. Been thinking about a lot of stuff and been wanting to start writing again so here it is.

- Marcus

day 76 - return of the music

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLR3esp_hg0cip8pIHEwhGnl-Hs_ZNf-hV

and an extra song that i listened to a long time ago and still really like

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7mZkt4bP5I


feel free to listen to these somewhere other than youtube, or if you watch on youtube make sure the quality is the best it can be