"Justice for the Wicked" - take 1
Originally I thought of writing something to that effect after writing 'Righteousness' - for so it seemed
that there yet were "loose ends". And I was filled with a kind of contempt going into this. I did not have
much to say at that point, for I did not understand what the issue was. Well, losely ... but had I not already
written about it?
This morning I woke up, after what would appear as not a lot of sleep, with this weird thing going on. It made
sense at the time, and had I gotten up right then and there, there may have been some smart and witty text coming
from it. Yet the more I investigated the situation, the more I actually woke up, the more I realized that this
thing I was looking at was "the Fang". Though previously I had thought it as the two ends of the whole thing; It
now appeared as a thing of its own. A closed system, screwed deeply into my mind, that would feed off of my
anger and frustration, ... or just negative feelings, whatever, putting pressure on it that would cause even
more negative feelings.
At the time I was there again pondering forgiveness - on and off triggering a surge in stresses that I then could
only try to resist. So I tried to find "the spot", the alignment, the whatever that would put the most pressure
on it, in the hopes that something might give. In the end, what gave might have been me - trying to grab a (mind)
knife and slash the goddamned thing open. It seemed to do the trick. Then I tried to free 'my Brain' from the wires
that would squeeze its ends to some metal frame ... and somehow must have gotten lost in yet another puzzle. One
with Knives, Glass Shards, Iron Shards and Needles.
The Junk of it would fall straight into my heart, and so I'm sitting here, looking at it - seeing what might be
a trashcan full of the aforementioned stuff.
...
And so they are ... "flickers of emotion" that amounted to much heartfelt agony when I thought of acting (even if
just in the mind) on an impulse of vengeance. Or some shit like that. I'm sorry if I can no longer "justly write"
of "the deeper truths" behind this thing, for the knot has been gutted.
It would not have been vengeance per se. My mind wasn't in a place for that. Not at first anyway.
Though sure, perhaps the impulse - an impulse that might eventually amount to as much. I'm sure we all know the
feeling. The end of it anyway.
I have to think of this teacher of mine. A genuinely nice and chill guy, but sometimes ... something - ever so
often - just triggered him so severely ... he stood there apologizing to us on numerous occasions.
And wouldn't that be it? Innocent people eventually losing their shit over ... little things, venting their
anger and frustration into the wrong direction?
Well, it matters not. I mean, it does, but ... if we keep a clear mind, we should be able to handle it.
What matters may be "the feeling itself" (like glass shards passing through my guts) - the feedback loop. To me it's
"stupid questions", 'loaded' questions and stupid smartass comments. Charlie Kirk was an artist when it came to
getting my blood boil; And I swear it wasn't me! I figured something like that might happen, in fact I counted on it;
And it couldn't have hit a better target.
But is that the right way?
Well, I ... . Before I put down any kind of statement, I feel like I should recount that dream I had yesterday. It
was yesterday I think. I don't really recall anything from the dream; It was merely while sitting there, watching
Stargate, that a part of it resurfaced. Something I had dreamed of before. I was in some combat situation, with a
gun, and the more I fired, the more difficult it became to squeeze the trigger. To the point where I had to use
both hands - and eventually even that was getting difficult.
Is it fault of the knot? If so, how could I give a fair statement? How could I even act properly? Well, isn't that
a loaded question? Implying that 'proper' ... . Well, if the dream was about acting in self-defense; And I remember
vaguely being in a perilous situation and I just couldn't pull that fucking trigger ... .
My mind, this morning, went somewhere else.
The thing was there, flipping in and out of my heart. "An active Needle" it would seem. One of them ifs and buts I
presume that are as a door left open for them to continue with their bullshit. I would have preferred for it to
point "down", letting me sleep. But as it was there, some deep discomfort roused me. And so it would flip back up,
prompting me to think of it and the feelings that it caused.
I don't know - but one thing. This idea ... to see injustice occur, the point where forgiveness feels like an insult;
Or even so, a wickedness on its own. And that, taken to its limit. Its world-encompassing, geo-political limit.
The part where we see it happen, and all one might do is chant "The Lord is the Vengeance of the Righteous". To maybe
offload all the anger and frustration to somewhere else, to maybe postpone the heartfelt desire for catharsis.
The knot may be a control valve. Depending on who or what it is we think about, it's either opened or closed - while
glass shards and iron shrapnell screws and needles are stuck into our brain to add some extra "oomph" to it.
And for me there's also this thing with the face. I mean, I have this - I suppose by now it is a really deep seated
issue with "Orici". It's complicated. But on the one hand I feel her leeching off of my femininity, while in the same
time making me feel like I'm leeching off of hers. And so, I kind of don't know who I am anymore. Or "what" I am. All
the femininity I ever had throughout these years was that of the moment; And dressing in ways that suited me.
And through the puzzles and stupid shit of the past, I saw it there. Her face as pinned onto an iron frame that would
act as a mask. Think of an iron ring with spikes coming from its sides, and the face is wired onto those spikes. Yet
at the same time thos spikes felt like they were screws into my brain. Something however discomforting.
And so, what are we to make of it? Whatever evil is done - well. Do we know it? Sure, there's Bombs raining down on
Palestine - but that's really just the tip of the iceberg. But what do we know of it? My fun little story of screws
and identity theft ... is as good as any other suspcion that we might have. No matter how well founded it is ... .
And woe unto us for musing on justice, like we want to murder people for some slight difference in opinion, or for
not believing in the same God or some such bullcrap.
And what can we do but laugh about it? Shouldn't it infuriate us? But true ... we have no proof. And thus, so I
reckon, we're better of turning our backs on them and putting our minds to something more productive. And if so at
long last it would flush them out, they might be afraid of it - thus pressing the issue before it might turn into
one; Thus perhaps revleaing themselves - for how dare we not at all do the thing that they would accuse us of doing;
Which might however inevitably have us do at least something to that effect?
But do I have anything but ... philosophical questions and non-sequiturs? I mean, the way is right there ... and I
still wonder why we can't just be on it. Why do I even have to contend with this nonsense?
I dare not ask the Lord about this. I worry of my own biases, or that maybe I might not like the answer; That it
might speak againt my Bloodlust, or even worse, support and demand for it.
There is a way. And I keep wondering why it is, that it seems like all we can do is look at them. For me this is
certainly true. I can barely think of anything else.
But to what end?
So, there was this room situation that I started to write about a while back. And it has evolved since then. Now I'm
there in that Hotel where we've started doing our thing, and eventually "he" shows up, bulging in or having somehow
else infiltrated our endeavor. And so he'd be there, swinging his dick around, trying to establish dominance. And on
the other end of the story, a Nuke. So it's either this or that.
And I sure would take the Nuke.
So I was about to say that we need bouncers, security and snipers on the roof. That way we can trigger the Nuke early
and be done with it.
And here I was, slightly annoyed about some screws still tugging on my mind. I had to take a break ... it was a lot
... and there's still some shit left. The more that comes off, the better it feels, but the more stress keeps mounting.
And so again, what do we make of it? What 'we' could we even speak of? Logic would indicate that we can't just let this
sit, like ... forever. What's even the point? ... Sigh ... I'm moving in circles ...
I mean, from where I'm at ... I'm stressed the fuck out. And I assume it wouldn't take much, to push me over the edge.
For as long as I could just walk out, I'd do that. If I had to sit there and endure the nonsense ... assuming we're just
talking, I might listen, but with the kind of shit I'm thinking about I'd tell them to shut the fuck up and escalation
would be inevitable.
And I keep thinking that this can't be it! This can't be LIFE! This is fucked up!
But here I am with like half a skull and wires and screws dangling from my head and what must be 3 androids worth of spare
parts pulled through my mouth ... a chain of fetuses, a Krang thingy and I start to realize why the left side of my head
feels the way it does.
I like ... really want to punch myself in the face ... . Maybe this is all the anger I projected onto others.
Oh ... good point. There it was, Orici speaking in my head, they just so happen to not believe in the Holy Spirit's guidance
and have their own way of punishing transgressions. Or dealing with "what they perceive to be injustice" or whatever.
But then again, why do I have to listen to this bullshit?
Oh the unspeakable things I would do to them to get satisfying answers from their mouths.
Something tells me I'd be talking to experts on the matter.
I'm stressed out. I think I need my emotional support fluff ...
So, if I had to guess ... they want You/us to give up and have things their way. And they're going to make it as
slow and painfull as somehow possible. They'll whine about not being given the Light of day for repentance, and we'll be
stressed out to the point where we want to defenstrate ourselves.
And what am I to say? Given the stresses I've endured, my lashing out, my being done with things - I've found myself
there often enough. Alone in the dark, ready to sit there alone and forever, because the mere idea of socializing with
anyone ever again wouldn't sit well with me. Whether it was my fault or not didn't matter. I just wanted it to be over.
So, to me, there is no "Buhu I wanted to repent but they were mean to me" bullcrap. Either You do or You don't. And that's
my five cents on the matter.