"I gotta rush away " she said
"I been to Boston before.
And anyways this change I been feeling
Doesn't make the rain fall"
No big differences these days
Just the same old walkaways
And someday
I'm gonna stay
But not today


I cried, listening to this song in the car today.  How very 2002 of me.

Is it ok to revert back to the weaker person you were, if only for a moment?

Falcons are small birds, but they're still birds of prey. They're fierce and strong, and brave... even though they're much smaller than eagles, or other birds of prey. They're smart, and fast... and they're not afraid to take on tasks that people would say they weren't big, or strong enough to take care of. They represent the little guy, the guy who's always being second guessed, but who can stand on his own two feet, and take care of himself. The Falcon is everything I want to be: Brave, Strong, Courageous.... and that's why I use his name to represent me...

The things you expect to receive from the day your life begins
are love, and kindness, and support, and shelter.
You grasp for your mother, for she is all you know at birth,
but quite often the hand you hold will leave you empty.
Such a child needs many things to survive and live on.
In the young years, naught but your bottle and a warm bed is needed.
But to live on, and prosper in the world of older years,
a guiding hand is needed, to insure the path you shall take
will be a positive path, and your life, a good one.
They suffer, it seems, from their own misfortunes
while they pretend to scrap so you can be fed.
Their foolish and deadly vices they hide from your eyes
and the meals you missed were the the needles they desired.
At no point did they give up their needs; sacrifices unmade.
Not your choice, was it to come into this world.
Responsibility, not taken up, and you are the one to suffer.
Why now should I yet to realize my goals?
The hands that held me up now hold me down.
They stand back, still wallowing in the guilt they own,
and when you succeed despite your shortcomings
they claim you then, in your hour of glory.
Though in the years before your life less important than the pills.
Live on, you say, for no day can be better until such pain is gone,
but they live on as well, pulling at your ankles and dragging you down.
Their death, though sad in name, you think will not upset you deeply.
For not in your birth, did their voices rejoice.

-Mitchell Hensley

2/6/2001

Renounce me!

Those of you who look at my fading countenance and call me "friend" but when the setting sun annoucnes the approach of the cold, winter night, you turn and flee!

Who shall stand beside me when the last star falls upon the earth and shatters the hopes of all who've wished upon it? I fight alone, and hence, the wounds I take are deep and long, but I save my heart the pain of watching you, my "friends" perish in battle along side me, for a cause you neither care for nor support.

I shall not play this game of jumping at shadows and locking away all that I fear shall be raped or carried off by the vultures that hide behind masks of kindness.

Choose your path now, for none shall be allowed to rethink this moment! If you think I jest, look now upon my sword, bright in the pale moonlight. This blade, reserved for the heads of those who care naught for the name of my family and for the honor that lies therein.

Speak now! Ye that call me brother! Speak now, and embrace me as such, or never again call my name in your hour of need...

-MRH

Everyday, I find out there are more people who treat others like I have done in the past.
Everyday, I see an innocent smile turn into a smirk of victory, or a grin hiding evil intentions.

Why the hell does my cynical face look funny?
I'm trying to be unhappy here. :P

Current Mood: amused

Recently one of my friends, a computer wizard, paid me a visit. As we were talking I mentioned that I had recently installed Windows XP on my PC. I told him how happy I was with this operating system and showed him the Windows XP CD. To my surprise he threw it into my microwave oven and turned it on. Instantly I got very upset, because the CD had become precious to me, but he said: 'Do not worry, it is unharmed.' After a few minutes he took the CD out, gave it to me and said: 'Take a close look at it.' To my surprise the CD was quite cold to hold and it seemed to be heavier than before. At first I could not see anything, but on the inner edge of the central hole I saw an inscription, an inscription finer than anything I had ever seen before. The inscription shone piercingly bright, and yet remote, as if out of a great depth:


4F6E65204F5320746F2072756C65207468656D206
16C6C2C0D4F6E65204F5320746F2066696E64207
468656D2C0D4F6E65204F5320746F206272696E67
207468656D20616C6C20616E640D696E20746865
206461726B6E6573732062696E64207468656D2E


'I cannot understand the fiery letters,' I said in a timid voice. 'No but I can,' he said. 'The letters are Hex, of an ancient mode, but the language is that of Microsoft, which I shall not utter here. But in common English this is what it says:


One OS to rule them all,
One OS to find them,
One OS to bring them all and
in the darkness bind them.


It is only two lines from a verse long known in System lore:


"Three OS's from corporate kings in their towers of glass,
Seven from valley lords where orchards used to grow,
Nine from dotcoms doomed to die,
One from the Dark Lord Gates on his dark throne
In the Land of Redmond where the Shadows lie.


One OS to rule them all,
one OS to find them,
One OS to bring them all and in the darkness bind them,
In the Land of Redmond where the Shadows lie."

O me! O life! of the question of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless,
of cities fill'd with the foolish...
What good amid these O me, O life?
Answer
That you are here--That life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

Current Mood: depressed

Mean Mr. Mustard says he's bored
of life in The District.
He Can't afford the French Quarter high
says it gets old real quick

(The life I lead, away from the bright lights and excitement of the big city bores me. I always want to be somewhere bigger, better. Doing new things is what I seek, but it's not exactly "cheap" to come by meaning that I have to go to great lengths to achieve that goal, and once I do... I always long for more.)

and he pales up next to me
and scrawled on the pavement
It says: Son, time is all the Luck
you need.

(I'm always looking for some Luck, or something to help me along. I don't ever think I can make it, and I look for signs from others to guide me along.)

And if I stay Lucky then my tongue
will stay tied, and I won't betray
the things that I hide.
There's not enough years underneath
this belt, for me to admit the way
that I felt.

(This is about how I deal with problems and happiness. I try not to say too much, to ruin the moment. I'm too afraid of failure at times to come out and say what I feel. I feel like I'm not strong enough, or that I don't "Have enough years" to express myself in situations where my feelings may not be accepted or reciprocated. It's a fear of failure based on a lack of success in the past.)

Mean Mr. Mustard says don't be
the wave that crashes
From a sea of discontent, he says
he's wrestled with that blanket...
It leaves you cold and wet
any way you stretch it
Divine apathy! Disease of my youth
watch that you don't catch it

(I don't want my uneasiness with life, and the situation I'm in at times, to be the thing I come from, the "wave that crashes" from this "sea of discontent", which represents my inner fears. When I was younger, I didn't care about anyone or anything. It was the thing that made me unhappy, and it was the cause of most of my failures.)

And if I stay Lucky then my tongue
will stay tied, and I won't betray
the things that I hide.
There's not enough years underneath
this belt, for me to admit the way
that I felt.

And I'm the wave that crashes
From the sea that turns itself
inside out every chance i get to
see what it's like in hell

(This represents how I view myself. I twist and turn myself around, trying to figure out who I am and what I want. I'm twice as hard on myself as anyone else, I put myself through hell to see if I can make it out... I can be self-defeating at times, when it deals with my goals.)

And if I stay Lucky then my tongue
will stay tied, and I won't betray
the things that I hide.
There's not enough years underneath
this belt, for me to admit the way
that I felt.

Current Mood: indescribable

hobyyhorse: im listening to counting crows
hobyyhorse: god its depressing
TormentedFalcon: kick ass
TormentedFalcon: yes, it is.
hobyyhorse: not as depressing as the wall
TormentedFalcon: but beautiful.
hobyyhorse: the wall is more beautifulerest
TormentedFalcon: yah, it is.
hobyyhorse: adam duritz needs some roll pills or something
hobyyhorse: cheer that fucker up
TormentedFalcon: lol
TormentedFalcon: dude, you're about to make my Livejournal
hobyyhorse: haha
hobyyhorse: awesome
TormentedFalcon: :-)
TormentedFalcon: anything else you'd like to add before I copy/paste/edit/post?
hobyyhorse: does adam duritz have a chemical imbalance or something that has him depressed beyond the capacity of a normal human?
TormentedFalcon: Good one!

Current Mood: amused

I've been throwing alot of random bullshit into my journal, mostly to help me think things out better.


I walk on, through the blackness behind my eyes. Seeing through closed lids, the blur of light from around me looks cloudy, and pale. I feel as if entrapped here, in this prison of sleep. But alas, the freedom found in the peace of dreaming cannot be compared to any other.
In my dreams, I control everything. Hearts are not broken, no one goes home alone, and everyone has a happy ending.
I try to control my life like that sometimes... I try to keep everything together, and usually... I do a decent job. But sitting here, in the blur of my surroundings, I see that right now I control nothing. Keeping everything in a row has become too hard for me. I know that I'm fighting a losing battle, but I can't give up...
It shall consume me, and I shall die... or I shall endure, and become triumphant.
New people enter my life. The marks they make as they are brought into my world are deep, and have not yet to begin to heal... The intensity of the connections made recently have not yet begun to sit in and be understood...
The pain has not yet begun to subside....

Not enough for you, it seems to me
My heart, not fashioned from gold
A gift you want, a prize to show
But my love cannot be sold

You look at me with shallow eyes
These eyes, like mirrors to your soul
Tell of lies and greed, and sins of the damned
And it seems my corruption is your goal

Give up, farewell! For I am still strong
The vice on my life has yet to drain me
For with the hope that I hold, and with this I sew
The seeds of my savior, my Dreaming Tree

My Tree does flourish, despite your attempts
To rip out the Roots of my embodied revolution
And your countenance shows fear, as you gaze through the Leaves
For with my tree I've destroyed your illusion

And the Roots do burrow and break through your grasp
And the Leaves, they hide me from your gaze
And the Branches and Twigs, provide steps for my escape
And with my Dreaming Tree I flee from your cage

And I live in the boughs of my Dreaming Tree
A house made of plaster and stone
And safe from your rule, in my tree house above
Victorious I stand here, alone.

Current Mood: artistic

As I sail through these islands bare
my world shudders as the cold wind blows
my lips, dry from lack of water and bitter chills
think of times you kissed them as your eyes did glow

my life, a sailboat, on an ocean so rough
my love, the eternal motion of the waves
the joy of the crest, and the pain of the trough
The comfort of the shield, the grief of the blades

In my world, trust is rare, as is comittment
The constant disappointments have numbed my senses
and all I see I deem impossible
and to protect myself, my heart builds fences

I try to reslove these thoughts
bring more light upon my world
but it seems that love is beyond my reach
so still I search this world, for my perfect girl

Current Mood: ecstatic

"Learn to live for today, for the moment. Learn to care about the things you'll miss, not the ones you think you will. When you stare back on life, your empty gaze of wants and memories, the things you'll see will haunt you. For you lived to die, instead of living to live."

Current Mood: frustrated

I like Monkeys

The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I thought this was odd since they were normally a couple thousand. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth so I bought 200 of them. I like monkeys.

I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let on of them drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in the genitals. I laughed. They punched me in the genitals. I stopped laughing.

I hearded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech and hurl themselves off the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour.

Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive; they all died. No apparent reason... They all just sort of dropped dead. Kinda like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. God damn cheap monkeys.

I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room; on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs. I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and one hundred ninety-nine dead, dry monkeys.

I tried to pretend that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for awhile, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real bad.

I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in my toilet and I didn't want to call a plumber. I was embarrassed.

I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately there was only enough room for two at a time, so I had to change them every thirty seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it wouldn't go bad.

I tried to burn them, but little did I know that my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish the fire

Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and one hundred ninety-seven dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed, the odor wasn't improving.

I became agitated at my inability to dispose of the dead monkeys and I really had to use the bathroom. So I went and severely beat one of the monkeys. I felt better.

I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said the city was not allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him I had a wet one. He coudn't take it either. I didn't bother to ask about the frozen ones.

I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn't quite know what to say. They pretended to like them, but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals.

Current Mood: amused

The Epic

Clad in the shades of dusk and moonlight alike
her midnight hair masks magnificant glimmering eyes
while her delicate step is soundless on the stony paths
like a falcon through the cold night she flies

bounding through the darkness, rest far in the future
driven by the desire to feel the night in her being
perfectly in tune with the nocturnal stillness
her life a constant race, to escape that which she's fleeing

a fire burns within her heart, eternally alit with desire
her azure eyes hide shades of grey and black
slender and sleek, but with the strength of the leopard
with a gaze so enthralling, her enemies rarely see her attack

Two swords bound in leather form an "X" on her back
and the handles of gold and silver shimmer in the gloom
her only two companions on this quest that she seeks
handed down to her from birth, Murasame and Masamune

Etched into her mind are the memories now passed
She doesn't fight the pain, it helps to drive her onward
The pain, unrepressed, feeds her hunger for revenge
And like a dream, the scenes replay, recalling all that she'd heard

Her parents, honored in society and reveared for their wealth
in gold and in knowledge, were innocent that cold night
Taken swiftly, like the cold winter wind, in silence
no cry of despair shook her as they fell in her sight

It was only days ago when these memories arose
to affect the new life she had tried to create for her life
Long she had lived in the sanctuary, free from such oppression
but after years of peace, the war of her parents returned to bring her stryfe

Watching him draw his sword, fighting against insurmountable odds
She hid, for she could do no good, and as he fell she burst to tears
His sword, now her own, tumbled to the floor, along with her hopes of survival
And his opponent, clad in black and in gold, the demon at the root of her fears

Kicking her fathers sword in her direction, he spoke to her with fierce tone
"Will you defend your name, poor child?" and he laughed, his arms spread wide
with a glare in his eyes showing hunger for death and destruction.
"I shall spare your life, petty child. Here alone, where your parents have died."

Current Mood: artistic

Renounce me!

Those of you who look at my fading countenance and call me "friend" but when the setting sun annoucnes the approach of the cold, winter night, you turn and flee!

Who shall stand beside me when the last star falls upon the earth and shatters the hopes of all who've wished upon it? I fight alone, and hence, the wounds I take are deep and long, but I save my heart the pain of watching you, my "friends" perish in battle along side me, for a cause you neither care for nor support.

I shall not play this game of jumping at shadows and locking away all that I fear shall be raped or carried off by the vultures that hide behind masks of kindness.

Choose your path now, for none shall be allowed to rethink this moment! If you think I jest, look now upon my sword, bright in the pale moonlight. This blade, reserved for the heads of those who care naught for the name of my family and for the honor that lies therein.

Speak now! Ye that call me brother! Speak now, and embrace me as such, or never again call my name in your hour of need...

Current Mood: apathetic

"You *can't* juggle two relationships...its not fair.
You *can't* be a savior to everyone.
It's your choice...you must decide whether to drop one for a chance with the other, or keep her, and drop your interests, or at least not let them dictate how you behave
The thing about life is that you must make descisions like that all the time...do I take the left road or the right?
The irony is that you can never go back and try a different road if the one you picked ends up being the wrong one.
Not stop being all grouchy, make up your mind, and start walking down the road you choose with your head up..." -- Harry, 4-21-01

Thanks Harry...