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August 28, 2002
Supplication
The identity of the lord of BITTER is undisputed.
But who is second-in-line?
Posted by tony at 3:20 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
August 27, 2002
Consult the Oracle
Perhaps you have a question about the BITTER around you.
Perhaps you have a question about the BITTER within you.
Perhaps you have a question about the dank, cruel world you live in.
Perhaps you seek guidance in the ways of the BITTER.
There are answers out there.
Maybe even to your questions.
Consult the BITTER Oracle: BITTER-oracle@truegeek.org.
Posted by scott at 5:49 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 26, 2002
nothing new, but still it sickens me
The decaying stench of idiocy is so rancid, so putrid around here that I gag, turn my head, force the bile back down.
These arrogant, ill-informed, pretentious pathetic excuses for human beings don't really seem to think they have superiority, but even their adequacy is delusional.
I have worked in educational settings with substandard individuals for years, but never in my life have I worked with ones who treat me as an inferior, one with inaccurate facts and bad ideas.
So go on. Keep adding more shellac to that plastic finish of yours. Keep playing nicey-nice.
And prepare for the wrath. Because the BITTER will slice your mind like the sharpest knife you have ever felt, and the pathetically weak grey matter of your meager existence shall be spilt upon the carpet, one more oddly shaped splatter than never comes out.
You have no idea what reality is. Pray I don't show you.
Posted by scott at 5:22 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
August 24, 2002
Sometimes, maybe...
...that leap of faith that you took lands you in a pile of dog poo.
...you look like a deer, in the glare of a car's headlights, about to be hit at 50 mph.
...you hear the sound of something sizzling and burning; you realize it's your brain frying.
...you realize that you crave the pain.
Posted by tony at 3:42 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
June 12, 1997
It was a beautiful night. The temperature was perfect, the sky was clear and starry, and the merest hint of a breeze came from the west. Everyone was outside, frantic not to waste these precious moments before they had to part ways, uncertain of whether they would see one another again. Our hero was no stranger to such feelings. The urgency of the moment took some time to settle in, however.
She could be found under a flagpole sitting on a bench, tears flowing. From someone else the young man found out the reason for her tears. Family problems had been troubling her that night. So he decided to refrain from bringing his own pressing matter up. Behind a mask no one could penetrate, he tried to be as best a friend as he could for her, but it was getting so that it was becoming difficult to contain, to act normal. He smiled through it all, and only one other person, a graduate from last year, knew what he was going through.
"I know what it's like to have your heart ripped out and stomped upon, and she doesn't even know she's doing it," his friend said. She couldn't talk of anything else but herself. Who could blame her? But she had a boyfriend--it started only very recently. And when she found out that he had gotten into trouble--well, she started talking about him. All the while, the poor young man sits next to her, doing his best to contain the emotions he was having.
He had done such a convincing job of hiding it that she had no idea of the hurt she was causing him. Finally, when she decided to go to her boyfriend's room to spend the little time there was before curfew check with him, it became clear that he was running out of time. He went with her as far as the hall commons.
Dejected and resigning himself to fate, he sat sullenly on the armrest of a chair. She came briefly to say goodnight, but she could see by the expression on his face that something was wrong. "Is anything wrong?" she asked. "No," he sighed. "Are you sure?" she continued. "Yes," he said. But his thoughts were different. He desperately wanted to tell her right then, but his restraint prevented him from doing so. This was the time to be selfish! You're running out of time! he thought. Do it. Pull the trigger. Let it out.
But he continued to glare downward, towards the floor, his legs swinging. He couldn't look her directly in the eyes, let alone say anything. Seemingly unsure of what to do, she gave him a quick hug and said, "Well, I'll call, or something." She went away then.
Later that night he was fortunate enough to see her again. It seemed as if he was doomed to brief encounters with her from now on. Wih a quick kiss on his cheek, they swept into an embrace, the young man reluctant to let go.
It was to be a night most remembered and most questioned. He lost a lot of sleep cursing himself for the decisions he'd made. And he still wasn't happy.
Posted by tony at 3:08 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 23, 2002
this is your BITTER
The BITTER is the ground you run into when your parachute fails to open.
The BITTER is the cold ocean that drowns you.
The BITTER is a merciless lack of oxygen.
The BITTER is a fiery volcano.
The BITTER is the loneliness of space.
The BITTER is the hole within.
The BITTER takes no prisoners.
The BITTER will devour you.
The BITTER has no mother.
The BITTER is hidden in a dark alley.
The BITTER is the shadow just out of sight.
The BITTER has no taste, no odor.
The BITTER is in Siberia.
The BITTER revolves around the sun.
The BITTER awaits you when you walk into the empty house.
The BITTER comforted you as a child.
The BITTER knows what your lover is doing.
The BITTER will have its time.
The BITTER shall cleanse you.
The BITTER is the fire that gently devours you.
The BITTER is the pill that puts you to sleep.
The BITTER is the gnawing inside your head.
The BITTER guides you to your target.
The BITTER stays with you in sub-zero temperatures.
The BITTER joins you when exporing ocean depths.
The BITTER is the sudden stop at the end of the rollercoaster of love.
The BITTER cares for its own.
Posted by chaos at 9:51 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 22, 2002
BITTER wine
The BITTER prefers deep, earthy Italian reds like barolos and amarones.
However, on a lively night, a fun shiraz or syrah will also please the BITTER.
The BITTER uses white zinfandel to get bankers drunk and do stupid party tricks.
Preferrably with college interns and sharp instruments.
Posted by scott at 3:19 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 21, 2002
Intro to BITTER
Further wisdom from Scott:
Ah, my son. Welcome to the BITTER. Understand what it can do for you
and what it is by opening yourself to it.
It is the silken kimono of jagged steel that bleeds all who touch you.
It is the kevlar plate inside your flak jacket that keeps you at arm's
length from those who would oppress you.
It is the rusted, hook-pointed knife that infects and disembowles the
maggot proles as they fall beneath your words of penultimate Truth.
It is the fine wine that warms you and nourishes you and fights off
cancer while poisoning your liver and killing brain cells.
Posted by chaos at 7:16 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 20, 2002
What is the BITTER?
According to scott:
"BITTER is yours for the asking, my son.
The BITTER is within all of us.
BITTER is just around the corner, watching you.
You can stab BITTER with your steely knife, but you just can't kill the BITTER.
You may have as much BITTER as will fit into both outstretched hands.
Love may make the world go round, but BITTER is what makes _love_ go round.
You can fear the BITTER, but in the end it will consume you anyway. So
breathe deep and relax; try to enjoy it."
Posted by chaos at 2:26 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
What is the BITTER?
According to scott:
"BITTER is yours for the asking, my son.
The BITTER is within all of us.
BITTER is just around the corner, watching you.
You can stab BITTER with your steely knife, but you just can't kill the BITTER.
You may have as much BITTER as will fit into both outstretched hands.
Love may make the world go round, but BITTER is what makes _love_ go round.
You can fear the BITTER, but in the end it will consume you anyway. So
breathe deep and relax; try to enjoy it."
Posted by tony at 2:25 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack