alastar - Woohu.com http://www.woohu.com/~alastar Woohu / Woohu.com http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=613026 I am disconnecting from... reality. From consciousness. From tangibility. From dimensional restraints. Thread by thread, I am tearing each stitch. Finding solvent for the glue, I pry each nail from its hole. I exhume screws from their cylindrical tombs. I am plucking staples and cutting ropes. I will deracinate the roots that attach me to the ground and degauss the magnets that are holding me down. I am burning to be released in smoke. My name is Phlogiston. I am the view from within a raindrop. I am the collision it has with your skin. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=613026 Tue, 30 Dec 2008 04:34:06 EST http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=611755 I will indulge in every whim and woman that I meet. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=611755 Sun, 26 Oct 2008 16:50:45 EDT http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=611663 All of mankind grows and falls while seconds pass to centuries And none of the ones left behind can find the answer to what’s meant of these Temples built in ancient times, lines written in the bible Ignorance breeds confusion, birthing chaos, war, and squabble While every turn and twitch of hands marks a moments stark abscission One man thinks inside his mind with blurry, clouded vision How many days can possibly reside within this hour? And all he wants is someone who will praise him for his power Not to bow or even beg, just simply nod in their agreement That all his work was not in vain, to bring him closer to the cement That every picture taken doesn’t fade to nonexistence The lens, the frame, the cameras flash; they serve as his resistance To forgotten times, dead languages, and man’s own great collapse And so he strives to capture time itself within his photographs He reflects upon the devastation and thinks that man can now do no worse But the ticking clocks with twirling hands, their swinging pendulum it lowers With a razors edge, moving back and forth, it slices time into its portions While everyone lines up to find their months are now divided The calendar hangs gutted, pages flip full of distortions But dates erased can’t be replaced no matter where they hide it http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=611663 Tue, 21 Oct 2008 01:05:36 EDT http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=611504 Be calm. Become. Now be patient and embrace this. Be gravity or weightless. Let off, let up, And learn to let it all go. Let yourself be vulnerable To fear, to failure. Then to collapse and reconstruct And to enhance with any luck. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=611504 Mon, 13 Oct 2008 23:59:49 EDT http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=611420 He walked, frozen and weary, down the same long stretch of road he’d been using since the snow started three days ago. Without plows its accumulation was deep and undisturbed, immaculate except for the solitary track of footprints he left behind. The first day he’d driven, but when the snow proved too difficult for the small car he had been forced to abandon his vehicle. He didn’t feel safe going into any houses yet, for fear of meeting any thing that had been locked inside and unable to get out. In the buildings, he assumed, it was still warm enough to keep from freezing. However, he had worked up the courage to enter an old barn which is where he spent the previous night. It wasn’t any warmer than it was outside, but at least it stopped the wind. He gathered a pile of hay from the ground, wrapping it and himself in some old tarps. The result was an itchy but warm sleeping bag. It was getting dark and he desperately needed to find shelter. He could see in the distance a small gas station, the first structure in miles. It looked abandoned; the parking lot was empty and there appeared to be only darkness inside. He approached it cautiously. It had many large, tinted windows that would prevent him from seeing in unless he were to put his face right up to the glass and cup his hands around his eyes. He didn’t feel like getting that close without testing the water first. From about ten feet away he made a few snowballs and threw them at the windows. Poised and ready to sprint away, he listened intently for any noise. There were neither moans nor sounds of movement; good enough for him. A small snowdrift had built up in front of the doors and he kicked his way through it as he approached. Hoping it wasn’t locked he pushed on a door and let out a sigh of relief as it swung inward. The wind blew swirls of snowflakes inside and they were lost in the darkness, taunting him, daring him to follow them. “Hello?” he called. He did not expect a reply and was awarded with silence. He stepped inside. He had to work to push the door closed against the wind and the small amount of snow that had already accumulated in its wake. He began to walk away when it was blown open again and snow shot in like sparks off fireworks. He closed it, this time running his hand up and down the door searching for a lock. He felt the frame of the door, found and fumbled with a knob, turning it until he heard the cold metallic click of the lock engaging. Shivering, he looked around as his eyes adjusted to the dim light that came through the windows. He saw a door with a sign labeling it a public restroom. He opened the door and looked into its pitch-black nothingness. He was too cold to search for a flashlight so he grabbed a handful of lighters off of a display rack and walked inside, locking the door behind him. It was a tiny bathroom, six by maybe five feet, which is what he wanted; he figured his body would be better able to heat a smaller space. He looked in a cabinet and found a large role of brown paper towel. He placed this in the sink and set it alight. Taking off his gloves he warmed his hands in the fierce but ever dulling flames. The fire was out in minutes and he was left in the dark, only slightly warmer than before. He grabbed another role out of the cupboard but this time used it as a pillow. He lay on the cold linoleum. His mind was almost as numb as his hands. Outside, he couldn’t think about what had happened in the last week. His mind had been acting on almost animalistic impulses and instincts to find shelter. However, now that he was content and growing warmer, cerebral activity was put little by little back under his own control. This is not what he wanted. Exhausted, he soon fell asleep. Dreams spiked with hypothermia and shock played in his mind. Horrific events from the past week were stitched and sewn to worries and fears of his own creation. The threads came undone and the mouth of madness opened up around him. Strings hung from its lips like saliva. It breathed out large gusts of wind that carried snow, striking him in the face with its crisp caress. Bloody hands with peeled back, bloodstained fingernails reached out from the abyss and groped the air, reaching for him. Relentlessly grabbing, their fingers grasped nothing as they opened and closed them again and again. He tried to move away, but they encircled him, closing in like a noose around his sanity. He woke up sweating, shaking. He felt around beside himself and touched a lighter. He lit it to reveal the inside of the small bathroom he had forgotten he entered. He lay motionless in the flickering light of the flame as the dream faded. His stomach turned and growled, hungry. He moved to get up as every muscle in his body burned with opposition. A sudden rush of blood to his head carried with it a pulsating headache accompanied by nausea. He leaned against the wall for support until the room stopped spinning. Composing himself, he slowly felt around in the dark for the door handle, turned it, and was surprised to be stricken in the face by what was at the moment the brightest light he could ever remember seeing. Squinting, he walked out of the bathroom and waited for his eyes to adjust. Deciding that hunger could wait and that the headache he was experiencing warranted his immediate attention, he began to search for pills. Once they were found and swallowed, he began stalking up and down the aisles, pulling bags and boxes from the shelves until he felt he had enough. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=611420 Fri, 10 Oct 2008 00:22:22 EDT http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=586941 I could hear the bones crepitating in Her throat as She worked Her mandible back and forth grinding and cracking and She unhinged Her jaw, opening wide with strings of saliva cascading from tooth to tooth. swaying from side to side, hypnotizing with fierce and glaring rapacious eyes that singed my skin as the fangs unfolded. - - | - - I didn't even see Her move or feel the fangs as they sank into my throat all I felt was the pressure the suffocation the rich and saccharine venom being pumped into my esophagus by the syringes of Her fanges - - | - - the trails are darkly carved in, narrowly avoiding arteries and my skin is perforated by serrated teeth bruised around the punture wounds numbed from within by ataractic poison slightly infected; they remind me of You http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=586941 Tue, 25 Jul 2006 12:52:20 EDT http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=584553 The trail of blood followed you like a shadow. Inescapable. I picked up your scent. Perfume mixed with sweat. Indescribable. It tempted me to follow you. I was coaxed by the crimson trail and the smell that twisted through the trees. Leaves crunched and twigs snapped beneath your feet and all the while I was asking, praying, begging for something to rip apart. Something to feed upon. Give me something to devour. ______________________________ When I'm ready, it will come. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=584553 Wed, 07 Jun 2006 23:45:15 EDT http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=571904 If this was paper, I'd burn it. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=571904 Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=569854 Never personal. Never real. These are the thoughts of a dream. These are the thoughts of a ghost. This is the diary of someone long ago buried. And I will continue to write it for him. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=569854 Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=569553 It's like walking on embers or glass or nails or razors. These are the times that make thin ledges or tight ropes or balance beams seem easy. I am confused and corrupting myself, wrapping me up in worry. There is no need, go to sleep. You're giving yourself too much time to think. What happened to chainlink? There is something in daylight that makes my armor fade. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=569553 Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=569073 The horns and hooves were dancing in headlight haze and then on the hood. Dents caught fur and blood while paint was scraped and scratched off. A face full of glass cut bridges of noses and lips of mouths and brows of eyes. What if..? I couldn't.. This close.. I wouldn't.. I would never let you go. The foreshadowing was everywhere, we surely must be blind. We could have prevented this, if only we'd opened up our eyes. Deer tied down with faces mortified. Warnings to be careful. A joke about running into traffic. Warnings to be prepared. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=569073 Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=568632 These clothes have become rags so I'm tearing the threads apart right at the seams. I'll sow them together again with my faults and frays. I will use my mistakes as armor. Threadbare to chainlink. Food has become vile and foul and has lost any source of vitality or fuel. Watch the numbers fall ------------------ 10 --------------9 ----------------8 ----------------------------7 ----------------6 -------------------------------5 ------------------4 -------------3 ----------------------2 ------------------ONE http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=568632 Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=567938 All of these bricks and boards are building lies Secured with cement and screw alibies This is the effect; I am the cause Calling beauty to all of your flaws And naming them reasons for affection http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=567938 Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=567438 The rumors are starting to rub away the skin on your tongue. Sandpaperlies. Oh come on you can come up with something better than that. At least exaggerate a little. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=567438 Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=566984 Burning and Aching -like a thousand snakes slithering, slipping, and sliding through my muscles, tasting me with serrated tongues. -like a thousand beatles skittering, scratching, and slashing through my nerves, sticking me with lacerating teeth. And yet the shovel strikes the pile once more, lifts an unbearable weight, and empties itself into the mouth of the dragon. Must keep feeding. Must keep the fire alive. A thousand shovels pierce the piles of coal to the beating of wings and the rhythm of the hungry growls. http://www.woohu.com/readcomment.php?id=566984 Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST