Blame It All On Me

If Only It Was So Easy...

Hellew,my friends. It's been quite a while;I think too long,since I've updated. Not that it make much difference,most people that check these things talk to me on some sort of messenger,or in person. I'd say no one read these,and it would in part be true,because this originates on my Xanga,which I believe has been dead for some months. However,it is forwarded to my Facebook,which somehow lives on,no doubt in part to those neat applications. But I'm not here for that.

In fact,dunno why I'm here.

I want to go out on a rant,really. To rave and yell and tell everyone how hard my life is,how hard I work,how thankless it all really is,how I feel about all this and that,how people make me worry about the future,how I think I'm going crazy,that I think I'm dying,and I wonder all about life. And I realize too late that its all pointless. Why complain when complaining changes nothing? I learn now that I give advice,but never take it;and still tell people to listen to their own. Make sense to you? Me either,really.

But now I sit here and wonder what to say;why I bothered to sit and write this in the first place. I think its for my own good,really. I don't even think it'll need to be published after it's written,but I will. I just want to remark to myself that I don't see reason in my own actions. I confuse myself daily,but what's worse is I know I'm going to do it. I know myself well enough that I see these things coming and expect them,but I can't stop myself. Like watching myself hit my head on a wall,I continue to pummel myself as I make mistake after mistake. The worst part? What am I learning?

When it comes down to it,nothing,except that I'm stubborn,and am effected by outside sources as much as I influence others. Goddess,I'm horrible. But,no matter. I think its good I can admit this to myself. Yes,it's good.

Also,I'm announcing most of my belongings are going now. Next time you're around,call something of mine (generally around the area) that I'm not usually using or is special to me (you know what they are),then its yours. I don't need it. I think this'll be good for me too. You all can fight over what is left when I'm actually dead.

'Til next time,Drink Deeply and Dream...

Ta,

-T.K.-

Before -T.K.-,There Was...

Snow blows across the dimly lit streets of Detroit,thick flakes dusting the now cold asphalt. Tire marks trace across the snow,slowly fading into the dark spaces between streetlights. Follow them long enough,and with some luck,you may come upon a limosine prowling the streets,the engine quietly purring into the night. Behind the tinted windows,a few figures sit in the darkness...

Sitting in the far back seat is a taller man,his brown hair cut and shaped neatly to the side,so it's kept from his face. His custom-cut black silk suit whispers against the seat as he reaches across the back to the man next to him,who is holding a small wooden box, an anagram of two letters cut into the lid. Pulling a short,fat cigar from the box,he regards the fine smoke with a sniff,smiling before the other man puts the box down and lights a match,lighting the cigar as he puffs it.

"Thank you,Ostrander."

Ostrander nods to the man in black as the smoke rings waft out from the cigar. The man turns,looking out the window to a large warehouse,the front door sprayed with a symbol sided by dashes. Smiling,he steps from the car. As he does,a few men,all dressed in suits emerge. The first walks up to him,taking his half-smoked cigar from him and handing him a fatter-looking cigar,filled with green 'tobacco'. He lights it for him,bows to this great man,and walks back into the building. The next man walks up,opening a box the size of his cigar box,also with the same markings as the wooden box,but this was metal. Opening it,perfect lines of red pills,all marked with an odd looking scorpion lay inside. He chooses a few of them,checking the thick,clear coating on them,and the man in the silk suit pops a couple into his mouth. Nodding in satisfaction,the other man bows and walks away like the first.

Stepping into the warehouse,first noticed are the guns. Along the walls are the finest pistols,shotguns,and sniper rifles ever made,from the AK-47 to the SP5000,all customized to specifications and baring the same engraving in the handles and butts. He smiles at the memories; the money and influence it took to gain these fine firearms. He walks past the rows and rows of his armory,coming finally to a door engraved with the same symbol as the guns and boxes.

Opening the door,he is greeted by a tray of the finest white powder,sitting on a large,beautiful desk,covered in papers from police reports,bribes,and subsequent release forms. Taking a seat in the plush chair,he puffs finally on his thick blunt,leaning down to snort the fluffy white line on the tray in front of him. A single picture rests on the desk,framed in cherry red. He pulls it to himself,smiling and blowing a lungful of smoke away as he regards the picture. In it is a little family - himself with a red-headed woman,and three chilldren. Two of them girls,smiling back at him from the photo,one blonde,the other an oriental brunette.

His eyes reach his last child,and his smile widens a bit. His hair is slightly wind-blown,as his own once was. His dark brown eyes pierce his own,and his smile resembles that of the man in the suit. Setting his picture back at the end of the desk,he looks through the police reports,shaking his head and smiling a little.

"My son..."

Reaching over,he traces the signiture symbol that covers all he owns. A dash,an L,a period,a K,a period,and finished by another dash. Smiling he nods respectively to his picture frame.

-L.K.-

"Carry on the legend,my Son..."

Til next time,Drink Deeply and Dream...

-T.K.-

A Firm Sense of Betrayal...

Hellew friends...In my search for knowledge,I come across many things that deeply disturb me. This video on my site is a bit long at 32 minutes,but I strongly suggest you sit down and watch it.

For those that read this on other sites that this RSS feeds to,the video is at www.xanga.com/senon7716 . The full 2 hour video explains much more than this,and is found at http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=928518742089256264 .

Take care.

'Til next time,Drink Deeply and Dream...

Ta,

-T.K.-

"When You Try Real Hard,But You Don't Succeed..."

I've found that in every moment I find myself alone,I reflect on everything that's important to me and all that I've done that has made significant impact on my life. It seems that even people that can see far ahead of themselves must take time to pause and look back on what shaped them,what made them who they are,and to find their true essence. I must be careful,however. My thoughts cannot shift to some things in my past without dragging me into a dark pit that traps my thoughts and feelings in a time I could have had,the person I could have been,the places I could be. I thank everyone for all they have done,no matter what it is they have done,for me,or against me. Everyone who has only had a brief sway in my life and on my thoughts has turned me into who I am today.

Thank you,my little Emo girl. You taught me no one is truly perfect.
Thank you,my golden-haired Ivy. You've shown me my true weakness.
Thank you,my oblivious Aura. You restored my faith that there are pure people left in this world.
Thank you,my Giant of a brother. You showed me the dark sides of my own life,and who I could be.
Thank you,my friend Bubishi. You have shown me true friendship,despite what you may think.
Thank you,Homeless guy in Philly. You had more wisdom than people like to give you credit for.
Thank you,my lost Catgirl. You opened my imagination to the impossible.
Thank you,my original older Brother. You taught me to stand up for myself,and what I believe.
Thank you,my Young love. You have shown me my real worth.
Thank you,my Parents. You are my first influences.

I hurt,my friends. My heart hurts,but not because of one person anymore. Because I can see the downfalls of those closest to me,and there is nothing I can do to help them,or stop them. I honestly cannot see my own path ahead of me,and I don't want to know what will happen. I may not have much longer here,or I may live for a long time. All I know,is that I will eventually pass,but I will be remembered forever.

I will live on,in the whispers of beggars,in the cries of those in mourning,in the broken hearts,in the reminders of lost love,in the thoughts of those in need,and the actions of all that come to those needing a friend.

Yes,I will live on in my own right.

'Til next time,Drink Deeply and Dream...

Ta,

-T.K.-