first grade was a much more eventful time for me than it is for most. which is odd, considering i remember only two certain events.

it was at st. mary’s school for wholesome catholic boys.

i was seven years old. not atypical from any other seven year old boy, although slightly more hotheaded than most yet quieter than a church mouse, the latter outshining the former. at first, it was quite the normal day in the cafeteria, the adults not giving a flying fuck what went on. lunchtime was the greatest because it was the only time of day we were really allowed to socialize. we could get away with more, but mental conditioning at the age of seven didn’t allow that.

hold on, let me give you some background. i was the lone wolf of my class. i got along with just about anybody, and did. i just preferred to be alone. the others noticed, took note and left me to my business, save for this strapping young lad. his name was christian and was damn near the biggest first grader i’ve ever seen. five feet, a hundred pounds and a cold, blue gaze that could frighten most fourth graders. i do believe he was actually at least nine, but his intelligence said otherwise. or maybe it was his behavior. as you can see, this little shit was the class bully. he had his minions around who were mostly his minions for the sake of protection. 

back to the cafeteria scene. a solid five or six weeks of enduring psychological and physical abuse by this kid. an old classic of his was to simply whip an apple at my face. since i was the lone wolf who sat by himself and he was the self-appointed dictator of the grades, he could get away with this. and he did. until that fateful day. the previous night, i found out my parents were getting a divorce. this morning, my dog puked all over the living room and i just found out my mom gave me my older sister’s lunch. this kid was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

he did his classic; whipping the apple at me. and right as i saw him do it, i. fucking. snapped.

i snatched the apple with an agility that would put a shaolin monk to shame and put it in my pocket. with the butter knife from my sister’s lunch in my pocket (she loves her cream cheese and bagels. why my mom equipped her with a metal butter knife instead of a plastic one, i will never know.) i walked over to the table, screamed in a faux-friendly voice “what’s goin on, buddy?” while throwing his lunch tray smack in his face. this was followed by me, an average sized seven year old boy, flipping the lunch table with the strength of a lumberjack, knocking christian onto the floor. i threw the apple square in his face, then proceeded to beat the pulp out of him with whatever power my seven year old fists could muster.

the adults left the room. the first time this year, and if i recall correctly, also the last. after the beatdown, which conveniently was uninterrupted by everyone save for their horrified gazes, i looked down. his eyes still ocean blue, but surrounded by a good deal of black. blood stained his fair skin and blonde hair. he may or may not have had consciousness at this time. while i peered down at him, i remembered: i still have the butter knife! it was at this point i did something no primary school child could even imagine.

i stabbed the butter knife into his eye socket, forcefully yet inaccurately. i aimed for his eyeball, but once i saw i missed, i thought, “perhaps i can get to his brain.” the knife was in deeply, yet his eyes remained unseared. i did some twisting and fidgeted the knife around inside his head. the blade was completely in, with only the handle sticking out.

after a good three or so minutes, someone appeared to see a small crowd of first graders. the person pulled the knife straight out of him and pulling me straight off of him. after that, my memory went completely blank. 

the other memory i was a trip to the hospital, a good several months later. we went on a field trip to the hospital to remember our good friend, christian. nobody was really excited, and it was only until after the trip that we learned it was a punishment, how “violence never solves anything.”

except this. this time, violence solved EVERYTHING. we got off the bus and entered the hospital. after 15 minutes of seeing white hallways and wheelchairs, we finally go into the room where our beloved antagonist lies. room 139. i entered, expecting to get an apple pelted at me and for everyone to start cheering.

instead, i see a hollow shell of what used to be the class bully. he was still alive, yet… blank. his eyes still retained their lights, the lights letting you know that they’re alive. but these lights were undirected. previously, christian always had a target. his body was still there and he was still alive, but simply.. blank. the class said in unison, “hi christian!” only to get no response and a blank stare into the distance. his face was eerily stoic. at this point, my young self was just happy i didn’t kill him. that’s what the rest of the boys were happy about. i couldn’t yet fathom the concept of killing a personality, which is exactly what i did. we all simply thought we finally scared him into submission, terrifying him beyond speech, but then again, absolutely nobody seemed to mind.

it took me up until now to realize i turned the tyrant of the grade into a vegetable. the quiet loner of the first grade lobotomized the class bully with a butter knife.

and damn it, i was proud. i wasn’t messed with anybody after that. in fact, i wasn’t talked to by anybody after that. even my mom learned to stay away from me, yet still felt her responsibility as a parent to protect me from the world, although she did a better job of doing the opposite.

she felt her need to protect the world from me, feeling her duty as a citizen more than a parent. my sister avoided me after that as well. all the metal butter knives we owned were replaced by plastic ones. we also became vegetarians and just did everything to avoid knife usage. at the end of the day, i was just happy that i no longer had to put up with the bastard. so what if my family and friends make me into a villain. that i can handle.

until the day i was institutionalized, a good 11 years later, on my eighteenth birthday, to be exact. instead of receiving a present, a good-luck-at-college gift, my family decided they wanted me out. the didn’t explicitly say it at the time, but their plot said otherwise. i don’t know why this happened to scar them so much, but it did. like i said, they felt their need more as citizens than as family members, and had a plot to “protect the world from me.”

the bastards laced my birthday cake with a good 5 milligrams of LSD. i remember eating my cake and losing my shit. the details of the trip i can’t exactly recall, except i woke up in a padded room. the LSD messed with my mind so much that i had a good deal of amnesia for a long time. apparently, when i woke up in the padded room, i’d been in the ward a good couple of months, with one of my wardmates being the good old class bully. he wasn’t the vegetable i remember; he made an astounding amount of progress since then. he was walking and making babbling noises.

after talking to one of the depressed inmates (i say inmates because this is what i envision prison to be like, except slightly worse, since prison inmates actually have socialization capabilities) i learn that he had been walking for about 3 years, thanks to the help of electro-convulsive therapy. sadly, his mental capacity could never exceed that of a typical five year old.

to be continued.

(via rampagggggge)

(Source: wevie-o)

the older i get, the more i notice how central a part of our world religion actually is. people love it or hate it and it seems there’s rarely an inbetween… now, each group has their assholes. you got the pretentious atheists who hold a dogma that “all people who believe in a higher power are stupid and weak” and you have the christians who are like “all people who don’t believe in god and who don’t follow the bible are going straight to hell.”

people hate on religion because it cites all sorts of holy wars, prejudices, hate. all this bullshit that i won’t even go into. from the kkk to westboro baptist to dumbshits like santorum, a form of intelligent life could come down from some obscure planet, see all the religious bullcrap going on and consider us “unintelligent” for following something so retarded, and i can’t say i blame them.

let me ask now… what is the point of religion? no, really. cease your biased bullshit and give me a point of religion. i think the pure, unadulterated point of religion is to help people to live a better life. that’s it. and if it does that for you, more power to you. that’s the point. however, beings in power use it as method of control… funny.
living a better life = controlling people? i thought the entity that was supposed to control people was the government, not religion. last i checked, the government doesn’t care about the type of life you live; they just want complete control.

the great thing about all the religions in the world is the fact that there’s so many of them. the thing that sucks is people are indoctrinated into a certain one, whether by their family, community, what have you. when people have the freedom to choose their creed (or lack thereof) without anybody imposing, then we’ll be at least a little more peaceful. the problem is, we don’t have that freedom. sure, the bill of rights might say we do, but do we honestly?

if a religion is imposed on you for your WHOLE life, is it truly helping you live a better life, or are you just living in fear that you’ll be punished if you don’t follow it? religion is about self-improvement, not control. leave that to the government. this is why we need separation of church and state. whatever the creed or moral code the politicians seem to have may work for them but it doesn’t mean it works for all.

i wrote this on a whim, i may or may not come back to it….. read it, it makes sense to me, i probably repeated myself about 20 times but i really don’t give a shit.

(set in 2050 A.D.. technology has regressed back to about the 1800’s, except for guns. guns are fucking ridiculously powerful now.)

“BURN THEM! BURN THEM!”

twice in a week, a new record. as i walk over i see a middle aged woman, teenage girl, and small arabian boy, each tied to a stake with hay at their feet, bawling their eyes out and begging for mercy.

“what the hell did they do?” i ask an elderly man in a “santorum 2012” t-shirt.

“this older was found eating shellfish and the younger one had a tattoo! damn heretics!” he replied, pulling out a bible and reciting some shit from leviticus.

“what about the boy?”
“…what about the boy. YOU TELL ME WHAT ABOUT THE FUCKING BOY.”
“…i couldn’t tell you.”
“he’s from IRAN.”
”..your point is?”
“FUCK IRAN”

he began by yelling at the younger girl, “YE SHALL NOT MAKE ANY CUTTINGS IN YOUR FLESH…” i tuned out the bullshit. sadly this has been the norm. tattoos were a scarlet letter, except instead of being shunned by all, you were burned. the santorum inquisition.

 as of about four years ago, the constitution was slashed and burned, and replaced by a several thousand year old book as the governing law of the land. brilliant, right?

“massa, you’re about to be late for your creationist biology class, massa.”
“god damn it jim, i told you, i’m not your master, you aren’t my slave.”
“not accordin to the law of the land, massa. if ya could kindly get in the horsecart massa…”

oh yeah… the government felt a need to reinstate slavery, instead of promising “a chicken in every pot”, “a n***** for every citizen.” it was a crime to dismiss them if you were white, and a crime to dismiss yourself if you were black. you didn’t have to like it, you just had to follow it. i reluctantly got into the horse cart as jim pulled me to the farmhouse for my creationist biology lessons. since i was to become a doctor, i had better brush up on my “healer’s prayer”, since, ya know, medicine is the spawn of the devil and all.

jim pulls me about a half mile down the road where i see a girl running for her life. “where ya goin, love?” i see two large men in uniform sprinting after her, before eventually catching her. a closer look observed she was already pregnant, and couldn’t have been older than 17. they caught up to her and began to have their way with her. she looked terrified but strangely familiar with the scenario.

as we uneasily continued down the road, we came across a 30-something year old woman with an unusually large number of kids. “MUMMY I DON’T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL!” said a little girl.
“I didn’t want you, ya little fuck.. shame we don’t always get what we want.” as brutal as she was i couldn’t help but empathize with her, especially in this instance. all the woman wanted was a condom and some birth control. yet somehow, wanting a condom is not ethical, but shitting out a bunch of unwanted, ungrateful little twats out of your vagina is ethical.

oh the irony. governing a country by the holiest book in the world causes people to be more prone to sin.

 we arrived at the local farmhouse, where i take my creationist biology class. 
“good morning class, today we’re going to be studying the female anatomy, then we’re going to cure this young girl of her cancer!” professor jose christos los illogicos said to the class. several male members of the lecture perked up.
“well, as we know, the first woman was born of adam’s rib…” the excited males got extreme looks of disappointment on their faces.

at this point, i completely tuned out the professor and passed out for about half an hour. i was awoken by some jackass in the back of the class. “professor! when are we going to move on to the cancer thing?”
“right now, david. this is maria. she is diagnosed with leukemia, and today, we’re going to cure her. everybody join me in prayer.”
maria couldn’t have been older than 8. an emaciated girl with a pallor rivaling that of a ghost, yet her eyes had some sort of spunk to them. she looked at us all with a glare that said “are you being serious right now.”

professor christos began reciting some holy shit, which resumed for about half an hour, before maria decided to pipe up. “can i have some medicine?”
“you don’t need medicine, you have the power of the lord on your side.”

 a priest entered and we began having some sort of ritual. after the ritual, maria walked up to me and said, “i’m going to die soon. nobody is doing anything for me.”
“i wish i could help you, i really do.”
“i miss my puppy… i want to see him again before i die.”
she had been locked in a church hospital for weeks, without access to medication or treatment of any kind, but to all the prayer she could want. but then again, who wants that…

we left and she asked “i want to come home with you. i feel like you’re the only one who actually wants me to get better.” the little girl could see through all the religious bullshit.

 i called over jim and we got in the cart. as we traveled down the road, we saw, in amazement, a dog. a stray labrador retriever with a shiny black coat.

“lucky!!” maria hopped off and gave the dog a hug. she explained that she had to hide this large animal from everybody, since, y’know, everyone with a dog, cat or pet horse tries to fuck it, and god isn’t diggin’ it. how she hid it, i don’t know, but she must be pretty damn good at it. we got lucky in the cart and headed back to my place, where i fixed up the gang some soup and meat.

tbc

That Snorlax you called fat? Its eating rare candies by the dozens for you to accept it. That Gastly you called ugly? Its been trying to learn a new move to replace its Mean Look. That Slowpoke you tripped? He has a learning disability that makes him legally retarded. See that Hitmonchan with the scars? He fought in Vietnam for your freedoms today. That Magikarp you called useless? Its getting its ass beat trying to evolve into a Gyarados.Help Pokemon save a visit to the Pokemon Center.

The Day DeWayne went Brickmode
Was not such a good day.
So much chaos and destruction
Yet still not that much to say.

The Day DeWayne went Brickmode
death was seen by quite a few
hundred million people, while many more
experienced bad injuries too.

 On the day DeWayne went Brickmode,
it rained fire from skies, indeed
but little did the public know
that it was actually DeWayne’s seed.

On this day, it must’ve happened
every woman could not walk.
Many children were created,
and all the men, they could not talk.
 
The men felt so inadequate,
after seeing DeWayne’s tower.
They saw themselves, they blushed and cried
for they too could feel DeWayne’s power.

On the day DeWayne went Brickmode,
many empires have seen a fall.
So many recessions and coup d’etats
that I could not count them all.
 
The people formed a riot
to dismember DeWayne’s seed.
DeWayne was forced to kill them all
for his warning they did not heed.

The Day DeWayne Went Brickmode
Was a terrible day, oh yes.
But DeWayne did what DeWayne had to
And for that, we say no less. 

(Source: amathematicallylaidrook)

(via fuckyeahdrinkin)