Michael the Tortoise

Lonesome George

A hundred-year-old tortoise died this month. That might not mean much to you, but to me, it's heart breaking. This particular tortoise was the last of his kind, and no other living specimens of his subspecies (Geochelone Abingdoni) are known to exist. Scientists were attempting to breed him with females of a similar genus before he passed on. If successful, he would have had some cute little hybrid babies. Alas, their attempts failed, and he died childless and alone.

Those who read my blog will probably understand why I find this particular story interesting. First, it's a sad story. I like sad stories. Second, his subspecies died because humans hunted the tortoises of the Galapagos Islands and decimated their natural habitat. That's what ultimately led to their extinction. Humans fucked up his life, and he had to deal with horrible circumstances beyond his control. I can relate to that. Lastly, he would rather die than propagate his species. He hated females, and he took that shit to the grave....literally. Hats off to him for that.

If it were up to me to propagate my species, humanity would be doomed. My personal aversion to females has robbed me of my natural instinct to mate. Any desire for companionship that I had was killed off years ago.

So, here's to you George. I look forward to seeing you in the next life. Maybe we can spend the rest of eternity bitching about how women and humanity ruined our natural lives.

Fifteen Cassette Tapes

The Night You Found Me

Our Endless Abnegation by Agnes Cecile

____________________________________________________________________

There was only one hour left before the point of no return. My eyes were red and swollen, and the stone was bitter to my tongue. It was dark, and your face was a mix of shadows amidst the blue shimmers of light. Rings of fire in the night sky opened the doors of heaven, and I was consumed by the minions of darkness.

Sleep was the enemy, and the war was ours. You held my sorrows against your breast, and your desires were mine. Our children had drowned in the crimson river, and we were like death incarnate. The babies gasped for breath as they twitched their feet beneath the covers. The rain wouldn't cleanse my soul. I was soaked in mud and doused in bleach. In the womb, devoid of thought and destiny. 

One thousand words in each hand, but they were all useless in the silence of the abyss. Death was my friend, and I sobbed at the revelation. I felt the serpents in the grass, and for a moment, the caves were empty. Exhausted, I surrendered, and we drifted into nothingness. A lifetime in a day, but forever never came. 

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From the Mailbox

Dear Micheal,

I still remember our first meeting. You were walking in your grandmothers yard. It was January of 1990, and if I recall correctly, you were about thirteen years old at the time. The cold was miserable, and your hair was tussled from the wind. Your jacket was puffy, cheap, and ill-fitting. The cold was brutal, but the look of contentment on your face was unmistakable. You were oblivious and magnetic. I knew from the moment I saw you, I had to have you.

I wasn't sure if you'd ever had a friend before, but my guess was never. When I first spoke to you, your eyes were wild and aimless. Every word you spoke was either a soft mumble or a wild rant.

We played together as the darkness crept in. Your grandparents didn't call you for dinner that night, and we danced for an eternity. The porch light caught glimmers of steam pouring from your mouth as you panted from exhaustion. Your face was flush with blood and shined like a dying sun amidst an endless void. Separation was misery, but we were content.

By the Summer of 1994, things had changed so much. The rain had fallen, and your hands could touch heaven. The wilderness consumed the sky, and all our paths were gone. I wasn't your only friend anymore, and I constantly fought for your attention. I had become completely invisible. A piece of you died with each hand that touched you. The life you gave me was born of innocence, and as the seasons changed, we lost it all. One sleepless summer night, I tried to console you. I couldn't grasp your despair...your restlessness..

I asked you to give me a name. You replied, "I need you to leave."

I asked, "For how long?"

You said, "Forever."

Since that night, no one has believed in me the way you did. Maybe someday I'll recapture what we once had. Until then, I'm just as alone as you are. I love you. I miss you, and I hope you feel the same. 

To me, you'll always be that kid with the awesome magic marker.

The nameless don't have signatures.

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Having manic depression is like dating a smoking hot girl who's batshit crazy. In general, it's awful. But damn, the good times are good!

— Michel Tyler (@Mike_Needs_Help) June 19, 2012

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Lady Of The Lake

Nell' Acqua by Agnes Cecile

_______________________________________

I exist in darkness,

between heaven and the soul's abyss.

The Sun can no longer shine here,

because the trees have taken him.

The rain is frozen,

and the ice scars my face.

All life has ceased but me,

a lost and forgotten race.

Only one heart beats now,

a relic of disgrace.

My friend was in the water,

but she left me yesterday.

I reached inside my stomach,

and found a pool of sweet decay.

Sleep is death,

and I'm immortal.

Baptized in her tears,

I eternally mourn her.

Her days became my years. 

Flesh is pain into my core.

There was a time,

when she adored me.

I lust for redemption

and fantasize in isolation.

Defeated,

forgotten,

drained and forsaken.

My silent screams come from within.

Leviathan, please rise again.

She is gone, 

and I am torn

Forever in this moment,

I am forlorn.

More Agnes Cecile paintings here

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The Legend of Takshi Metavagah

Her name is Takshi Metavagah.
Within her eyes, the pupils are innumerable.
Fields of Irises reach to heaven.
Each radiant bloom is pollinated with violence.
The students pick her flowers eternally,
but they're never made clean.
For every good measure,
evil is born from her womb.
Her heart is a trinity:
three stars of illimitable brilliance.
A halo crowns her head,
and it bears three sacred words:

1. सर्वज्ञ
2. उत्कृष्ट 
3. सर्वव्यापी

Her frame is translucent 

and harbors the souls of all who seek her.
Yars Eg'never was the first to find rest in her spirit.
In her core, his wings spread,
and he defeated death.

The universe isn't limitless.
Beyond the borders, there is a queen,
and her kingdom is ours to inherit.
Seek her shelter.
Speak her name.
Takshi Metavagah. 

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My doctor told me that I suffer from delusions of grandeur. As god, I find this extremely offensive.

— Michel Tyler (@Mike_Needs_Help) June 10, 2012

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Mothers Don't Say Goodbye

Most have two. 
Some have none.
She had one. 

My lips were chapped from an unnatural cold. They stuck to her flesh as the morphine took hold. Her eyes were black as a year worth of dreams. 

The beast, 
it consumed her, 
with insatiable greed.
As she whimpered and cried, 
in silence, she screamed. 

With a drop of saliva, I gave birth to the end. 
The beginning was gone, and that was my sin. 
Clay is just clay, and flesh is just flesh. The milk is not sweeter when morning her death.The winter came early. She slept with my name. Pinned to her pillow, it rests in her grave.
Words like water, and water like blood. The forest is dead, 
drenched by the flood.  

Pillars of smoke held the demon's resolve. 
It had chosen the one that connected us all. 
With the cornerstone shattered and charred to the core, 
the arches collapsed and littered the floor. 

We all take a turn,
and rest by the stone, 
but never together.
We all kneel alone. 

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My Type

If there were only one worthless woman left on the planet, I would fall in love with her. With that in mind, here are ten traits that I find irresistible in women: 

1. The body of a goddess and the brain of a beast. 
2. An extremely limited capacity for empathy. 
3. Laughs at anything and everything.
4. Lust and hunger supersede all emotions.
5. Doesn't believe in apologies. Favorite words are, "I'm sorry."
6. Smells like cheap body spray, cigarettes, and CoverGirl brand foundation.
7. Chews gum long after the flavor is gone, making her breath smell like mint and puppies. 
8. Loves to fight. 
9. Hates me, ignores me, berates me, humiliates me, or all of the above
10. Easy.

On a totally unrelated note, I'm really into FRONT Magazine. (link NSFW)

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