An Obama story

Barrack Obama sits at his desk. It’s nearing midnight, and the lights of the White House shine brightly in the night. His staff stands by him, watching the small television set. A newswoman stands in front of a huge crowd of protestors, they’re roar and marching blaring over her voice. But Barrack doesn’t need the television to hear them; they’re anger vibrates the entire building with pulsing rage. He can stand and simply watch them, but he keeps his back to the window.
“The world is going to hell,” one of them says. “What are we supposed to do about this?”
“Get them the hell out of there, for starters,” another says.
“We won’t have another Brooklyn riots,” Barrack says.
“Well it’s gonna turn into a riot soon enough if we don’t do something.”
“They have a right to-”
“Oh fuck their rights,” one says. They argue amongst themselves, infuriated with each other, blaming one another.
“People.” Barrack stands from his desk and they fall silent. He watches the set and everyone listens to the newswoman.
“-demanding that the president, for what would be the second time in the history of the United States, step down from office.” He shuts off the TV and looks among them as they wait silently. The noise outside grows faint into the background.
“A lot of people,” he says, “want me to resign. And, to tell you the truth, I’m not exactly sure if that’s the right thing to do here. They’re saying it’s the end of the world. That, within the next two years, we’ll all be gone, if this situation isn’t resolved. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. So I’m asking you,” he walks around his desk and stands in front of it, “as colleagues, as co-workers, and as friends. I ask you: what am I supposed to do?”
The room stood silent. They looked at each other, blank stares, unsure of themselves. Finally, Biden spoke.
“I think,” he says, “that we could have done so much more. I think should have something about this, and sooner. But honestly?” he walks over to Obama, placing his hand on his shoulder, “We didn’t do the best we could have. We failed, Barrack. We failed. And now… I think we should move aside.”
The silence was thick enough to block out the noise from outside. Every watched him now, his eyes shifting over the floor, thoughtful and full of regret. There were so many things in his long presidency that he should have done. So many things he should have foreseen. But now, the nuclear threat, the multi-billion dollar debt, the protest of thousands upon thousands of workers. Everything was falling apart. The mountain he climbed and stood on, proud and strong, was collapsing. This was the end.
“Have the camera crew ready within the hour,” he says, and the staff scatters away.


I usually write at nights, and this was written during the last few minutes before going off to bed. It was pretty funny to read in the morning.

Tired... Tipsy... Feelin Poetic

I was breathing in her mouth
When I came.
She likes to kiss while we fuck.
As a lonely man
I oblige.
Sweat running down my back
Stickiness isn’t sexy.
Like a volcano erupting and quickly settling
Like Mentos in Coke
Like BAM and the stain is gone.
There and back again,
A hobbit’s tale.
Like a rigor mortis after it happens,
Only one body-part of me relaxes.
She checks the clock, an annoyed coach,
Wondering if the team will ever win a game.
Deep brown eyes
Ruddy calves.
Appeal becomes irrelevant
when sex is raretanium.
It's not a third-person shooter,
It’s an MMO.
LF1M.

Note: David Bowie: "Life on Mars?"

quick religion rant

I look at a religious adult and I don’t mind it. It’s understandable. As you grow, you make decisions for yourself. You take a good look at God and you decide whether or not it’s a load of bullshit. In my opinion, it’s a load of bullshit. But if you’ve decided that it isn’t, that this world is so much more than meets the eye, then that’s your opinion, and the world would be a boring place without it.
My problem is the children. There’s just way too many households that are forcing our children into their parents religion. And its not just religion, it’s morals, it’s the view of the world. And I don’t believe that’s right. I think that children need the choice; they need to be able to make that decision that’s clearly going to change their entire lives. I think that they deserve that right as human beings, that they shouldn’t be brainwashed into thinking the way their parents do.
I was one of the lucky children. I took a hard look at God (because, throughout my entire life, I’ve always had a logical, even scientifically based view of things) and I realized that it just didn’t make sense. It was that simple, in my point of view, and I decided to go against it. Or, ignore it completely.
But, as I said, I was lucky. Most kids don’t feel that way; they believe their parents, the primary care holders of them. They assume their right because they are the ones who’ve raised them, who’ve looked out for them, and will never stop doing so. Most of those kids will never get the chance to see the world in through another person’s eyes. They become blinded, narrow minded. And I think that’s horrible.
These aren’t just your children. I hate to sound like some sort of hippie, but they’re the children of the world. They’re the next generation of the entire world. Maybe this is why humans have ceased to evolve spiritually.

Note: Dimmu Borgir- "Progenies of the Great Apocalypse"

Note to self

-Take more notes on everything
-Download Portishead album ('dummy')

This is supposed to be used to hold some of my writing that i dont want to ever lose, but im sure it'll become more than that. Or maybe not, i dont know. We'll see.

in case you dont know me, my name is Angel.