Patau

this story begins with Her dying.
what's more, it's not just her, it's her 5 month old foetus who met his demise at this very young age -i am not even sure you can define it as 'age'. she is having what people call a late miscarriage, caused by the wrong number of chromosomes, which were too many. so it seems, 13 is an unlucky number after all.
she is dying at this very moment, drawing her last breath on her bathroom floor. she finds the situation rather pathetic: blood on the floor, her dead son in her arms, and she is experiencing the symptoms of slowing heartbeat, dizziness, loss of hearing and vision and numbness. she knows, she did this to herself and her self conscious is punishing her as she is bleeding out slowly, head aching, heart aching, backbone aching, her eyes are fixed on the tiles of the bathroom. there is nothing strange or unusual about them, don't take me wrong. the tiles have nothing to do with her dying or the miscarriage. or maybe a little.
 she remembers when they put them up the walls, knowing nothing about building or decorating. she helped him giving them up from the package they were sold from. she watched him as he applied those tiles on the wall, fixing them to it and finishing up all by himself. she watched him doing it, and looked like any other fool could just copy his motions and look ordinary as he was. except she had married him.
 and so this tile made her remember everything she had done before this period of her life began. before she felt so alone and lonely, before her son died.


-so are you gonna' finish your peas?
-no, you can have them i guess. i am bursting...
so he reached over with his fork and pierced each pea through, so the fork 4 blades each had a pea on them. she looked at him without actually asking the question she already knew the answer for, so instead she raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth in an O shape for a second while exchanging meaningful looks with each other. an old couple at the next table winced at his action and the fact she was leaning on the table with her head resting on her arm. this place wasn't even a reputable restaurant or even a restaurant: it was merely a pub. she sort of threw a smile their way and leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, who just finished the peas on the plate, and munched on them, mouth open, particles falling onto his lap, wiping his hands in his shirt.
-hey, i think we can go now. unless you want dessert?
he was shaking his head and closed his eyes whilst doing it, which meant 'no hecking way, don't you know me????' so she smiled and stood up from the table, looking at the old couple who were eating something very mushy with forks and knives. she could swear it was only mashed potato, but who knows.
so they left the place and started to walk home. as usual, the thoughts rushed into her head not sure which one to share with him. it didn't matter because everything they talked about made sense and wasn't trivial or boring to any of them. they agreed on most topics and never really had a fight over anything major. misunderstandings happened of course, but they always ended up apologising and basically go overboard and make a massive scene out of how idiotic they were, etc.
she finally decided to go with a nostalgic memory she had, when she was acting rather like a drama queen. like she does.. this story was brought back up from a crushed pen laying on the sidewalk, which had suffered several trauma by people walking over it.

-are you going to wait for me after work then? i am finishing at 2?
-i don't know, really, i kind of want to go home and play my new game. i also would have to wait an hour!
-you are saying this like it was at least half a day and i asked you to stay completely still while you are in front of the building!
-no, i told you.. i... OKAY, okay, i will wait. can i have your charger then?
but when she finished working and came out through the front door he wasn't there. she looked around the fifth time, maybe he was walking up to her right now from a different direction, but he was nowhere to be seen. she felt the anger filling her up from the inside and building pressure in her head, so she stormed off towards the train station. (little did she know, that he was literally getting off the bus at the other end of the street, running towards her, knowing he would be late, so he did text her the estimated time of his arrival, but of course that little thing -to check her phone- was out of the question now.) as she stomped towards the station and literally everything made her angry. for example she seen a bunch of teenagers sitting on a bench nearby and using their pens as tiny cannons, shooting pieces of wet tissue at each other, tossing the particles not needed on the ground. they looked like they are having fun and that angered her so much, she even pictured herself punching the biggest child in the gang, just because he looked more like an equal opponent to her than the rest of the kids.
 arriving at the station she already seen the train on the platform, which made her absolutely furious, not even at him anymore, but at the train of course, and the fact she now has to ran upstairs, through the corridor and down the two flights of stairs towards the platform. all this with a 2 months old foetus in her belly she already knew of, but he didn't.
she got angry at him not showing up in time because as a matter of fact she planned to present him with the big news today. so his irresponsible actions made her really mad, even though he couldn't have known that this is going to be an important afternoon for the two.
as she was looking for her ticket in her wallet, she caught glimpse of the timetable hanging on the wall opposite of her, showing the train was already 5 minutes late and now ready to depart within a minute. so as quick as possible she pushed through the gathering crowd assembled by mainly commuters, school kids and tourists, who were just staring at the timetable with the mouth open or squinting at information packets they were given to help them get along easier. of course this made her even more angry than she was! combination of the past 5 minute's events simply made her red with anger, and when she is going to think about this day in the future she is usually cringing at her actions and childishness behavior she represented.
she pushed through successfully and made it up the stairs, taking them by the two, and running down skipping three whole steps, and was lucky enough not to trip and fall/break her neck/break her ankle/ lose the child/ lose her life just now. by the time she got down the train was still there, but strangely enough it was empty and all the passengers were on the platform exchanging angry looks with each other and sometimes with the employees of the station or the train company. there was no point in asking questions: it was clear as day, that something has happened on the vehicle, because there were paramedics, police and all sorts of less important people in one of the furthest carriage.

-someone has given up, huh?-she thought, and started to walk along the platform, where she might catch a glimpse of the drama that someone else is causing, and probably having the worst day of their life, but all she came across were whining people and crying children all the way there, when she seen something: there was a poster on the side of the train of the Pieta. everyone heard that it has been damaged by an unstable person who threw black tar over it, and was screaming to everyone around him that this statue is blasphemy and all the other ones picturing jesus dead is a blasphemy too, because his death is the symbol of the acceptance of our sins and all our wrong doings in this life. only she seen the Pieta as herself. she was holding her dead son, and the cape he was lying in was her own blood.

An idea

>a rich man intends to commit suicide
>he wants to do this by challenging homeless people to a fight to the death, their prize being all of his wealth
>the homeless eventually unite to protect themselves led by the de facto homeless king
>as this continues the police eventually put together that there is a serial killer targeting the homeless
>in light of this the public are divided, there are those who think the killer is a hero for dealing with the homeless problem, and those who want to see him punished
>charities for the homeless see a spike in donations, with the increased food and kings training they gradually become swole
>some vigilantes also pose as homeless people hoping for the killer to come
>however they end up contesting with copycat killers who believe in the protagonists "cause"
>the police are inching ever closer to our main character
>his battles are becoming much more difficult as he fights vigilantes and homeless now muscled and trained in martial arts
>eventually the situation escalates and reaches the point that the nation is plunged into civil war
>the two factions collide and the war reaches a fever pitch, our protagonists identity as the killer is revealed inadvertently
>now a reluctant leader, he faces his final deathmatch against the homeless king in the wars climax

bántva és szeretve hanyagolni

masfél óraja, talán kettô, nem számolom
mióta hallgatom a hangoddal teletûzdelt
másodperceket.. megszökik tôle a nyugalom,
és könny szemembe

egy hete volt, vagy egy éve már, tíz..
tízezer? ugyan-így vízhangzott a mennyezet
és hasított húsomba csalán, folyó víz
-legalább boldog voltam!

igennel bólogatok, te igennel ugyanúgy
távolban csípkedsz mûvelt jávort, torzat,
rezgôt, nehezet; hogy játszódik a múlt,
te úgy játszol énvelem

ostoba vagyok, bocsánat erre nincsen,
ostobának születtem, szabad akaratból
engedtem Angyalnak: hadd csettintsen,
én, Bárány mégis meglepôdtem..

én sem mondhattam volna szebben

"Christianity was created by some decadent and degenerated Romans as a tool of oppression, in the late Roman era, and it should be treated accordingly. It is like "handcuff's" to the mind and spirit and is nothing but destructive to mankind. In fact I don't really see Christianity as a religion. It is more like a spiritual plague, a mass psychosis, and it should first and foremost be treated as a problem to be solved by the medical science. Christianity is a diagnosis. It's like Islam and the other Asian "religions" a HIV/AIDS of the spirit and mind. "

-Varg Vikernes

i heard an odd tale about a beetle...

i heard an odd tale about a beetle
who tought she is a cockroach
-in a brooch-
hiding in the pockets of the people
planning an appropiate approach

likwise ladybugs and butterflies
they just show off gracefully
-so pretty-
but all o'them being insects: surprise,
surprise... who dares envy or pity

those, who broke all her jointed legs
'cause beetles who have wings on..
-...ah, on pegs-
why waste time crawling into webs
when you can fly onto one?

twin peaks

-Oh, Harry, I've been feeling this way all day. You know, I proceed as usual, my mind clear and focused... and suddenly, out of nowhere, I see her face and I hear her voice. Naturally, I try to reorient myself, come back to the task at hand, but the image remains. Sometimes I actually feel dizzy. 

-A man in love is supposed to feel that way. 

-Well, my symptoms suggest the onset of malaria. But I've never felt better in my life.

current mood

(:

i am that kind of person, who wraps your presents into an unwanted book's torn out pages.

punk rock

i was just wondering about things that i sort of fucked up in the past: for example the shape of my glasses, the joke i said to that girl on the street about people.. just silly. when you try to joke with a complete stranger and it's just not funny for them, but to you.. and when the same thing happens with everyone else as well. these things are relative, but what if you say something to someone at the right time. timing is everything! what if you could go back in time to change these things, to say the right things, the right time, to the right person? would anyone do that at all? would you go back in time just to tell your fathers new girl to go to hell? watch her cry?watch her slowly slipping into a stance where no-one can get her out from? tell the truth about him and her, and how stupid they look together? to refer the future events, what he does to me because of her? that you basically have no father? compared to her disappointment and sadness it would be nothing, if the future father is behaving, of course. but is the father's happiness matters at all? would he act differently if that woman is not on his side? would you feel differently when it comes down to men? you would trust in them just to watch every single one of them letting you down over and over again, just like he did. but is it really the woman's fault? or your daddy's? 

:s

my dreams are very disturbing, i feel like i am in love the whole time