Unauthorised Suicide Harms Others

Mock authoritarian anti-suicide poster

This one is tagged as Personal “Artwork”. It came up on my FB memories. It didn’t get a very good reception when I first posted it 5 years ago so I decided not to re-post. It’s a mock anti-suicide poster from an authoritarian dystopian state. It’s cheap and nasty, and it would be affixed to every window of every crummy apartment in a building over a few stories high. Now that I know Photoshop better I could perfect the crumminess, but I don’t care. It’s staying exactly how it is.

InspiroBot

I’m kinda tired. I was going to do another music blog, but instead I’m going to spam my hundreds of thousands of readers with some of the most absurd inspirational do-dads the internet has generated in the last hour. InspiroBot splices strings of text and images to create amusing nonsense, sometimes bordering on the philosophical.

Bacon, death, and industrial-metal

Today I woke up feeling like doing anything was stupid. Instead of doing stuff I lay in bed thinking about dying. Eventually I decided to make scrambled eggs. I cut a  finger while dicing onion. There were no bandaids, so I was trying to stem the bleeding with tissue. It wouldn’t stop bleeding, but I was set on getting the meal done. I’d chop a bit and then wipe blood away. Occasionally a drop would drip into the food. What do I care. Food just gets turned into blood and shit anyway.

Some people will always succeed but I don’t care

Eventually, still bleeding, I returned to bed with the my booty of scrambled goods and coffee.  It was pretty good eats. Instead of doing anything important, I got back to reading the gonzo account of rockstar, Al Jourgensen (Ministry, Revolting Cocks, Lard etc). I would laugh here and there but I couldn’t concentrate, and most of the time was spent reading the same pages over and over. I also found it a little depressing (but maybe a little bit inspirational too) that this crazy character could be so fucked up on drugs and booze (and be depressed), yet still do like a thousand albums. I don’t even care about waking up in the morning.

Chicken coop massacre

Around 1 pm I mustered all the rock-star inspired OMPH! I could pull together to go check the animals. I discovered the poor chickens had been massacred – probably a dog jumping the fence in the wee hours of the morning. No bodies, but lots of feathers. That was kinda depressing.

Then I managed to use the phone (something I have a near phobia of) to book an appointment I’d been putting off for weeks. Then I showered and now I’m fucking exhausted.

 

 

 

I want wine

 

 

My favourite Ministry album

 

Jim Is Ep10. My Friend Darkness

This episode of Jim Is was meant to be another short and blunt installment, but then I was having fun stretching it out, and adding extra cheese.

To read the first episode
To brows all episodes

webcomic Jim Is Episode 10. My Friend Darkness. Tragedy cuts down blue depressed guy as he recovers a taste for living.

Here’s to you the happy ones

Life is so sad. Time passing, faces and experiences fading, the relentlessness of nothingness leaning down hard. Usually there is a bright side of the melancholy, but today is all sad face. You happy people are lucky. …
… Hang on…
… Ok, I have a drink now. Here’s to you, the happy ones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You’re still all going to die.

Jim Is Ep7 pt2. The Void

Finally back from the future to deliver the second installment of Jim Is Ep7. The project has been a little more ambitious than most of the other strips, so I wanted to procrastinate a bit more. There is a part 3 still to come.
To see pt1 first
To see the first episode

Jim Is_webcomic_ep7pt2. The Void

Fragments

Late-night emo sessions coming at ya! This was written several months back. Not much has changed.

It’s just me and the dark. Laying here, sprawled among the wasted shards. There’s nothing left to give me that little warm feeling. I have failed and I’m pushed right to the jagged edge of this little reality.

I’ve never been so close to absolute night. There’s nothing out there. Nothing for me. Pinpricks of light sail the silence. Little bubbles of light and life. Could I swim that far? Would they have me even if I did? I’m trapped in this vacuum tube and I’m running out of time. Once the glass brakes it’ll be drowning time.

I can feel the pressure rising, and it’s already imploding. I can already feel the shards tearing flesh. This life, my world, cutting me to pieces. Love and hope and little moments of condensed light, all tearing me apart in a slow inevitable concussion a lifetime long.

All I can do is close my eyes as the world I’ve known shatters, leaving me to the crushing depths. I know I’m drowning. And I know it’s my fault. I know I should have been bold. I should have been shrewd. I should have sold my little life whole-sale and went out to fight in that big bad void. I should have fought and killed. I should have kicked and stabbed and taken everything that could be torn free.

Now all I can do is sell this life a shard at a time. Pull theses frozen spikes from my flesh. Sell them at a bargain. Sell them to live another day, washed up on some alien stretch of void. Dream of the vacuum tube. No, instead dream of the glories that could have been – maybe what can still be achieved, if only I can hang onto enough of these burning fragments long enough to make it to the day. Dream of the day I can use what I still hold to make a fresh reality to burn away the dark and the pain.

Why A Perfect Circle’s “Passive” Describes My Relationship With Miss X


A dark and broody song, this was a favourite of this angsty teenager, and it was one of the first songs that conveyed the feelings I had about the apocalyptic breakup of my last relationship. As with any symbolism or metaphor, this song does not perfectly represent the situation, but it is as close as any song has been. Miss X, and many others in my life, would say that said relationship is so far gone and dead that there’s nothing to even be angry about now – nothing left to discuss or fight about, or for. But here I am, still just as and angry; still just as thirsty for answers.

Miss X is the woman I love and hate with equal strength. She is someone I always want to see, but if I came upon her a hundred-thousand years from now, it would still be too soon. Compound this issue with the fact we have a child together – yep she’s in my life for now and ever. She’s someone I would feel very conflicted about knowing they were having a bad and horrible life.

In this way she is a prime candidate to become my perfect enemy, but she has never faced me, never given me any answers – just walks away – just plays dead. This lack of closure is very disappointing. There is no conflict to pour the immensity of my deeply conflicted emotions into. I am now walking away in disgust. She is obviously better off keeping her reasons to herself, too afraid to face me and admit the truth. At the best, I can expect passive aggressive bullshit. So deeply unsatisfying from someone I care/d for so much.

I will certainly be better off for moving so far away, where she can’t rely on me to be there for her needs, while completely ignoring my own. You fucking disappoint me.

Now, regale me with your comments telling me to get over it.

Dead as dead can be
The doctor tells me
But I just can’t believe him
Ever the optimistic one
I’m sure of your ability
To become my perfect enemy

Wake up and face me
Don’t play dead ’cause maybe
Someday, I’ll walk away and say
You disappoint me
Maybe you’re better off this way

(The only answers I ever got amounted to nothing. The breakup is still a raw and bitter deal for me. To me it could have always been salvaged. Now I can’t even

Leanin’ over you here
Cold and catatonic
I catch a brief reflection
Of what you could and might have been
It’s your right and your ability
To become my perfect enemy

Wake up and face me
Don’t play dead ’cause maybe
Someday I’ll walk away and say
You disappoint me
Maybe you’re better off this way

Maybe you’re better off this way
Maybe you’re better off this way
Maybe you’re better off this way
You’re better off this
You’re better off this
Maybe you’re better off

Wake up and face me
Don’t play dead ’cause maybe
Someday I’ll walk away and say
You fuckin’ disappoint me
Maybe you’re better off this way

Go ahead and play dead
I know that you can hear this
Go ahead and play dead
Why can’t you turn and face me?
Why can’t you turn and face me?
Why can’t you turn and face me?
Why can’t you turn and face me?
You fuckin’ disappoint me

Passive, aggressive bullshit
Passive, aggressive bullshit
Passive, aggressive bullshit

The Lament of Doom

Something I wrote back in 2010 about a certain person. I think younger me did better writing than current old me. Not sure why it is titled “The Lament of Doom”.

You probably have no idea why I lost my temper and abruptly ended the conversation. Instead you will invent a theory from the omnipotent maelstrom you call reason. The effigy has already been constructed and the pyre assembled. You will divine my malign intent from failure to submit to the inquisition. Yet again I will burn. It is not only me; there are more for your righteous hate to consume. Though the world is dark, and evil, and ignorance reign supreme, there is hope. You are the Flame and The Guardian of the Bastion of Truth.

You, just and supreme, stand alone against the retarded tide of humanity that would drag us beneath the waves. You stand against greed and corruption and lies, imagining yourself up high, passing judgement on all the filth of the world – the perfect candidate for ruler of heaven and earth. Your myopic vision cleansed of the faintest hint of empathy, nothing would go uncorrected to fit the image you hold dear above all.

You have no idea of the suffering you represent. A martyr, a lord, a hypocrite. No compassion or love, only need and want – the manifestation of the blood drinking demon.

I can try to forgive you. You are what you are. But never pity. Never trust. Self-righteousness will only ever ensure a quick descent into conflict.

There is no escape and no reconcile. Living with you is a distant second best.