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[25 Jan 2007|12:35pm]

Please take a moment of your time.

Police officers with box cutters showed up where St. Pete's homeless tent city residents had moved to and set up. They slashed their tents to the ground as residents watched in horror. Now one homeless group is moving to label St. Petersburg as the 'meanest city in the nation.' Video by Tina May. http://stpeteforpeace.org/tentcity.html

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[16 May 2006|05:02pm]

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deo vindice [21 Dec 2005|08:24pm]

[ mood | sleepy ]


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[21 Dec 2005|03:45pm]



[01 Nov 2005|10:06pm]


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ye olde moderator says: [08 May 2005|12:01pm]

the shop is now open!

flockflockflock. i plan on buying tachistoscope. mainly for the smell of it of course.
1 small thoughtcomment !.

A matter of honor: Saving personal sanity amidst oppression. [24 Apr 2005|08:23pm]




            The tormenting feeling of going home will last for merely one more week; Storm stood outside of his job at the Mexican restaurant “Las Palmas” waiting for his stepmother for a ride.  He kept trying to convince himself that he would be an adult in merely a week.  Being 17 and lonely at home affected his mindset extremely, but the hope of escape from emotional collapse cam closer.  Yes, he was running away, but for his own sanity.  His parents have come close to crossing his broad line of tolerance; in other words, his mistakes were unacceptable, unforgivable, and unforgettable.  He wondered why his parents spent so much energy into molding him into an exact version of their beliefs.  In relation to teenage growth, the rebellion stage of Storm’s life would not be limited; his parents thus established strict rules and guide lines for living under their roof.




            At age twelve, the mother of Storm lost custody of him and it was transferred to his father.  His mother was caught with a group of people who dealt out massive amounts of cocaine; she was placed in rehab and Storm was placed in the care of his father.  Throughout his whole life, Storm tended to relatively view life through his own eyes like periscopes.  Although his family would have a situational and random influence on his life, he was usually left alone to figure out the life experience; nothing was ever given to him without his hand in the subject.  He was alone for most of his adolescent life, while his mother literally stuffed his child support money up her nose every night; his brother would wander off with the wrong crowd and his father was too busy providing for his welfare not knowing the final destination of that money.  When Storm’s father put the pieces together, he knew his job as a father would be very difficult; Storm had never been apart from his mother, and weaning his son from the motherly love would prove to be a rough journey of reality.

            Storm’s mother was a very selfish woman in a universal sense.  She chose drugs and alcohol over her own children; his brother McCurdy had the favor and benefits of the family while Storm was viewed as the youngest, ignorant family member.  He had always depended on his mother for emotional tranquility; she would lie to him, building his denial as time passed by in the days prior to the loss of custody.  Once he was in the hands of his father, he perceived his father as a bitter man with revenge on his mind when concerning his mother’s opinion; she continually conditioned Storm to have some sort of distaste for his father. This futile brain-washing method proved to be the biggest barrier between Storm and his new fatherly guardian.

            As Storm moved to his father’s home, he began to realize that he had to change his environment again; he had moved from school to school like an constantly moving nomad.  With this revolutionary change in his environment, Storm gathered himself and tried to cope.  He was emotionally scared and destroyed by his mother’s lies; from this relative feeling, he could trust no one.  In an emotional outcry in the beginning of his residence with his father, he explicitly told his stepmother and father were very cruel in their distaste for his thoughts.  In their extreme nature, they decided to raise him under a strict set of rules to be hammered into his habit structure.  As an ignorant teen, Storm observed their continuous emotional abuse as a threat; he would have to live two lives to save his sanity at home and to make friends he could depend on at school.  From the beginning, his new guardians proved that they could not be trusted with his thoughts, beliefs, and ideas.  In a civilized discourse amongst the family, Storm would give an opinion that would not coincide with his parent’s beliefs; this difference between the family was immediately criticized and shunned into shame for Storm.  This displeasure between brought about countless nights of elongated speeches about Storm’s supposed ‘irrational’ beliefs on certain issues; he learned that if this totalitarian rule over his existence would continue until his manhood, then he had no choice but to mildly deceive his new guardians to save his self-respect.

            As Storm began getting acquainted with the outside world separate from the delirious world of his parents, he began to see a significant difference; his friends got along perfectly with their parents while he struggled immensely to establish a good-natured relation with his parents.  His parents seemed to always discover something to blame on their son; if perfection did not exist, then there would be no peace.  Since Storm realized that this subjective viewpoint was unbreakable, he lost all motivation to make his stay at their house tranquil.  He tried to impress them with excellent grades and extra work around the house; he was neither congratulated nor praised.  If he did more work and excelled at his responsibilities, then things became stagnant in the house because it was expected of him.  He began to lose all faith in restoring a good relationship with them, and the emotional taunting of his parent got worse.

            Storm literally craved to speak with someone about this unusual discourse in his new home.  He told some of his new friends and the message was manipulated through many people; his story was manipulated from being yelled at all the time to physically abusive behavior.  Although he never even mentioned that his parent abused him, the parent of his friends began calling his house wondering if the situation was acceptable.  This misinterpretation caused Storm much grief for himself because his parents became inflamed with the manufactured opinions; he had no intention of others misinterpreting his cry for understanding.  From this situation, he completely isolated his existence from the world.  He secretly grew as a person while the world skimmed over him like an unimportant speck.  Storm acquired only one blessing from the heavens:  Knowledge.  The only thing that was not restricted from Storm was books and school work.  The irony between his friends and himself was the fact he looked forward to going to school while others dreaded it.  He escaped from the emotional torment to enter a public environment where he could enrich himself in the culture and the education.

            He would borrow books from friends and the school library and he would let his homework accumulate excessively; this gave him more time and discipline to sit at his desk and work for countless hours.  The parents would not question his long periods of homework time because it was obvious that it was conditioning him to strive for the best grades possible.  His father always threatened physical punishment if he ever failed a class; Storm never failed, but rather he became very fluent in the world of academia.  He began to realize that this knowledge was a feeling of satisfaction and assurance; the more knowledge he acquired, the farther he would separate from the manipulative nature of his environment.  Since Storm was always alone, he dreamed of the impossibilities that seemed enriching; he thought out countless scenarios of how life was going to be once he could express himself without guilt.  This gave him bits of hope that each day would past swiftly to the time his adulthood would begin.

            His dreams were crushed nearly everyday by his ruling stepmother.  Since his father had to work constantly to provide for the bourgeois house he purchased, Storm did not get to grow close to his father in the correct manner.  However, his new guardian of a stepmother had grown in haste as well.  Earlier that year before the custody battle, Annette and Sunil Patel were married on the grounds of a historical local church in the area.  Months later, she had to conform quickly to acting as the standing mother of this preteen.  It scared her because she missed the first twelve years of his life; she knew she would have to begin raising him at the beginning of his unstable, rebelling stage of life.  Annette would raise her new stepson as his father would want:  With an iron fist.  She had built a distaste of slight envy towards Storm before she married his father.  The unconditional love between the father and son seemed more strengthened than her new relationship with Sunil; Storm was only allowed to see his father every other weekend and it bothered Annette that the son was the default choice of Sunil. 

The new twist in the change of favor seemed like sweet revenge for Annette because now she has power; it should be noted that power must not be abused, but abusing power is one of the most tempting things on earth next to other addictions perpetuated by the outside world.  Storm saw this similarity and utilized what he learned from authors like George Orwell, Ayn Rand, Sun Tzu, Bruce Lee, Niccolo Machiavelli, Kurt Vonnegut, Aldous Huxley, Mario Puzo, Aristotle, Shakespeare, etc.; these many writers are only a small percentage of authors studied by storm throughout the course of his residence with his parents.  He used every method from these books and evolved it to his situation.  The life at his house was a struggle for tranquility, and as in the real world, the struggle was victory for some and a loss for others; Storm always lost so much in this struggle, but luckily his parents were careless enough to disregard the ‘Doublethink’ against him.  He always hid behind the intensity of his revolutionary and ever-growing thought processes.  Literature, History, and Knowledge played as guns against the tradition of his parents; he thus matured immediately after he moved to the house.

Alone and palely loitering, as his favorite author John Clare would declare, Storm became familiar with the many aspects of the world he saw seldom.  He would limit his desire to get presents at Christmas and Birthdays by merely asking for books.  He also preferred receiving a world almanac to catch up on the important points in history from the past year; it also served as a book of Logos-influenced facts to rely upon in times of empty thought.  He hid in books as he was restricted from the freedom to watch television alone.  Storm became hurt instantaneously as each restriction isolated him to only the environment of his new home, but he moved on quickly and subdued emotion by immersing himself in the search for truths.  His relying upon literature seemed apparent to his parents, and his contrasting ideas became even more fact based.  This upset his stubborn father and brought about countless nights of uncomfortable lectures about why his philosophies were futile and too idealistic; this saddened Storm because that was the only major connect he had with his father, and he had no choice but to separate that tie because it would be a looming loophole into his mind.  In front of his parents, Storm would say the right things to avoid the intense confrontation, but in secret he held his own truths and survived the fight for self-confidence versus conforming to the philosophy of his parents.

The six years following the custody battle grew worse by the day because there would always be something to criticize Storm.  The son would even work his heart out to gain praise from his parents, but it always ended in a bitter dispute and anger from his stepmother.  He began to realize that the only way he could fully please them was through perfectionism, and this depressed him because that was impossible; he began to cave in a bit by half-heartedly working for his parent’s benefit.  The status quo never changed after this grasp of carelessness and Storm took back what was his in this world:  The dignity of self-reliance outweighing the completely selfish whims of his parents.  No matter the intensity of anger displayed by his parents, he loved them to the fullest extent.  He recognized that his father starved in order to never be late on the child support and he realized that his both his father and stepmother immediately stepped in when Storm’s real mother was captured by her Karma.  He learned to be thankful for their desire to take care of him, but they portrayed this desire as a burden by sarcastically insulting his past family in the most extreme verbal fashion.

Storm was never physically abused by his father and stepmother in this time period; the emotional abuse filled that position alongside with its own intensity.  Every waking moment around his father and stepmother was a mind game he was forced to play; he refused to change his character to make them happy because he learned no to sell himself out like that from the books he read.  By being hindered by the guidelines set by his parents, Storm had no choice but to virtuously rebel against it by living two lives; he acted as the person he had always been around other people while he acted like a submissive robot around his parents.  It was a degrading decision, but it was the safest means of protecting his sanity.  Since his parents were not brave enough to cross into physical punishment, their means of verbal abuse was negative reinforcement in its intensified extremity.  Since religious morality was very loose in the household, the use of explicit insults and degrading rhetoric diminished the soul of Storm every night, but he would escape in his dreams every night with the fear of waking to the next day.  This void of unreligious influence caused Storm to eventually lose his faith in God because he never asked to be exposed to this much pain and confusion.  Although this gradual rejection from religion to atheism seemed apparent, his spirit to prove his parents wrong about their assumptions seemed more spiritual than their stagnant drive to condition his obedience and loyalty firmly.  Storm became more self-assured about his thoughts as he grew older and he finally was forced to get a job.

Annette and Sunil devised a plan to knock out some of their debt:  Propose to Storm that if he pays the rest of the payments on the broken car in the driveway, they would fix the transmission and put the car in his name.  The only ironic aspect of the deal was that his parents took the entire paycheck every payday; at first, Storm thought this would just bring him even closer to getting a car finally, but as time passed his money seemed to leak into other places without his knowledge.  Storm utilized his study of higher mathematics to draw up a plan that was verbally explained by his parents; by the assumed estimates of his father, he would have everything paid off by mid-April.  Storm made sure to keep each pay stub to keep exact calculations of his money, but after April came and went, he began to realize that his numbers kept growing and his parent’s promises would alter slightly for the worse as each paycheck would come forth each week.  From being disappointed countless times, Storm decided to enter his father’s office to search for his financial records.  What he found brought forth great distrust within himself towards his parents.

Storm discovered that each paycheck has cut in half; the first half would actually pay off the piece of junk in the driveway while the other half would go towards miscellaneous payments like the lawyer, and house payment, and the new truck his father acquired.  Storm could not believe that his father would lie to him and confiscate the money he worked so hard to earn; Storm was confused because his father should have known that he could have explicitly told his son the truth, and by law Storm had no right to regulate the decision of his parents as a minor.  Instead, his parents took his paycheck every payday to be flaunted to the useless and the trite aspects of their materialism.  This was an act of war in the eyes of the emotionally hurt son because the countless hours spent working to feed people seemed liked it never happened.  He worked for free while his parents enjoyed the fruits of his labor, and now the trust is broken both ways.

Storm became extreme in his beliefs after this negative epiphany; materialism sickened him to the point of complete disregard of respect towards monetary wealth.  Though out his whole life, Storm was disappointed by words, and thus verbal words became an enemy of his conscious.  He observed how people would communicate to each other, and it seemed so much wiser to actually have much to say, but choosing to say nothing at all.  Although he would tell his parents exactly what they wanted to hear, those words meant nothing to him overall.  From this complete distrust of humanity, Storm made only a few friends throughout his education because he saw the similarities between the hypocrisy of both his parents and fellow students.  Those who spoke too much were enemies of Storm and thus, his close few friends were softly spoken friends of few words.  As Storm embraced his individualism amidst the collective tendencies of his parents, he began to realize that the only way to save his relationship with them is to completely separate from them when adulthood became established.  In a defensive manner, he kept quiet about his intentions of leaving the household because he was going to leave anonymously without notice.




            As Jay, a fellow co-worker of Storm, stood with him outside the restaurant, Jay made all the plans clear for the move in on Storm’s eighteenth birthday.  The night was beautiful and Storm had an excellent week at school.  He was voted Vice President of the Academia Society at school and he obtained straight A’s in his college-level high school courses; Storm was high on a pedestal nearly reaching astounding euphoria until he saw the red car of his stepmother pull towards the restaurant.  He noticed that his father was slouched down in the passenger seat as though he was intoxicated; he was right because as he bid farewell to his friend, he entered the car with an enthusiastic “hey!” followed by the stench of beer coming from Sunil’s aura.  There was no response of greetings from the parents, rather an eerie silence followed and with the last of hope; Storm informed them of his grades and his election to his office.


“That’s great Son,” his father muttered in a drunken disgust.


            Storm saw the intensity of anger on his stepmother’s face and he understood that something was wrong by her aggressive driving.  He knew that they found out about his plans for leaving and he waited for them to mention it.  He never predicted the situation so accurately.


In a mocking tone, his father asked, “So when do you plan on moving out of your home Storm?”


            Storm hesitated and smirked at the full moon; he remembered vaguely of a scientific study that claimed each full moon brings an increase in violence.  After pondering for that split second, he accepted that pain was inevitable that night and it would be extreme to the highest maximum possible.


“I plan on moving out of the house a week from today father,” he said in a confident tone of voice.  He knew that he was going to need all the hope he could get because by the time he verified to his parents his plans, they began to scream loudly at him and shun him in any way possible at the time.  Although he was ready to defend his plight, he prayed to God to give him strength for the evening; he then noticed that this immediate acceptance of God again gave him more of a reason to live his life fully.


            The downstairs became the brawling ground and the interrogation room for the evening.  Sunil had finished a full twenty-four pack of beer and Annette was exhausted from long days of work; this night would be their night to finally do what they have initially always wanted to do:   Resolve the problem with a physical punishment.

            As Storm sat at the table while his parents continued to parade angrily around the house, Sunil demanded that Storm come and stand directly in front of his father.


“Look up at the ceiling,” demanded his father with a look of disgust.


Storm looked confused at this random command, but his father repeated himself louder and angrier.


Sunil threw an uppercut to his son’s abdomen, and Storm fell to his knees; his adrenaline began to flow in a very crazy manner and Storm immediately stood in front of his father again without and facial expression of tears or pain.


“Those karate lessons taught you well; at least that was not a waste of my money on you,” he said in a sarcastic tone of irony.  Throughout the duration of life, Storm promised himself to separate from those who chose the mindless brute method of physical conditioning.  Storm saw it as weak and ignorant, which really brought down his respect for his alcoholic father.


“Look me directly in the eyes,” commanded his father.


The two gazed into each others eyes and from across the rise side of Storm’s face came the inertia of his father’s hand.  This shock of pain streaming though Storm’s body knocked him against the wall and his anger had been released.


Storm thus formed a fist and demolished the banister of the stairs with his bare fist in one blow.  Blood began to drip from his hand, but the adrenaline kept the intensity of the pain at rest; his parents were shocked at his hidden brute strength.  Storm stomped toward his father waving the blood of his hand screaming, “Is it my blood you fiend for you mindless brute?  Take my hand and suck my wounds until my veins are completely dry!  Do it if you are man enough to smack your own son around because if this is how to ultimately solve a problem in your world, then I laugh at your stupid ignorance you unworthy fool.  You make me fucking sick!” said Storm out of an intense, undistorted anger.


            Silence moved over his father as he slowly walked out of the house.  Unspeakable truths were spoken and round two was about to begin.  Annette stood in disbelief and pure anger as she said, “You’re going to pay for this you ungrateful little shit.”


            She began to walk swift towards Storm with a curled fist, and Storm fell into tiger position while slinging one of the dinner chairs perpendicular to the floor with his foot.  He ran through the kitchen into the other living room as he heard her struggle with standing up.  She stomped outside and demanded Sunil to do something about the developing problem.


            In his drunken fashion, he stomped into the house with an unopened beer in hand and turned to see his son staring the other way out the window.  Storm knew that he must keep his emotions low and his awareness high to ensure he was ready for anything.  In a matter of seconds, Storm turned around to find that his father was in the middle of launching the full can at his head; by pure intuition and training from self-defense, Storm catches the can without trouble and fell back into tiger position.  His father stood there as though he was helpless in his altered state of mind.  Sunil and Storm peered into each other’s eyes while in a mocking fashion, Storm began opening the beer and began to drink the beverage.  Ironically, that was the first beer of his life and it never tasted so good.


            This caused Sunil to march out of the house to go to his truck.  He left the property without any other reason than defeat of ideals.  Storm stood there looking at the trail of his blood from his hand and began to recognize his pain; Annette walked in and immediately ran upstairs in tears.  Storm stood there in victory as he sipped from the beer and began to clean the bloody mess around the house; he wrapped his injured hand, cleaned up the mess left by the confrontation, washed the remaining dishes, and headed to his room.


            He pulled out Dante’s Inferno and copied the words of the gates of hell onto a sheet of paper.  He took some tape and they paper downstairs, placed the sign over the main entrance of the house, and slowly crept upstairs to go to bed.  While he laid there, he noticed his father came home immediately and climbed the stairs to the room of his son.  Sunil opened the door and stood gazing at his son.  Storm stared back with a look of logical satisfaction while his father said, “Et tu Storm?”   As he began to step out of his son’s room, he pulled the sign from the entrance of the house and placed it on the door to his son’s bedroom.  He shut the door and the battle was over.  Storm had proven his valor in his father’s way of solving problems:  By fighting brute force with self-defensive force.  Although this night was over, Storm still had a week to wait to legally leave the house.  He knew it would be hell, but now he has confidence and respect from his parents.




            Storm had all bags filled to the brink for his long journey into manhood that early morning.  Five hours into achieving legal adulthood status, Storm immediately woke up and began packing every necessity he could grab before permanently leaving his home.  The past week was yet another week of being alone for Storm; his parents would not grace him with their presence but rather decided to work extra to avoid any contact with their son.  This change in the attitude in the household was a major shock to the entire family, but Storm believed in his uncertain future.


            He decided to never use force against another human being again because fighting his father figure made him despise physical force even more.  He pledged to always love his future children without forcing ideas on them; he would actually live by his ideas so his kids could get a good idea of the right path to follow.  From this situation, Storm decided to never enrich his study of the martial arts any longer; he would rather die randomly than choose to fight another equal human being.


            As he stood outside his house for the last time with the heavy weight of his bags weighing him down, he glared at that house and smiled; he thought to himself, “This place was certainly a prison, but at least I now know how not to treat people.”


            He thought of a certain famous figure in Roman history who defied the status quo of the tyrannical power of Caesar.  He then noticed that he should love everyone equally to ensure a common unity with his future friends.  With this very thought, he walked in an upright position while screaming, “I am Spartacus!”


            He was certain to make his parents love him again because he loved them no matter what.  They had no clue how to raise a teenager properly, so their ignorance was immediately forgiven.  He left a letter to his father to reassure that he will come back when things calmed down a bit. 


            He walked into the sunset towards the bus stop and never looked back.  He was free to think and believe without fear; this was the greatest birthday present he ever gave himself.


Author:  Mattathias Cincinattus  copywrite 2005

3 small thoughtscomment !.

[24 Apr 2005|06:37pm]

Can you associate these words?

Comment to xianxu's Live Journal if you can do it!

mental chatter

background noise


social/commercial failure


(personal) responsibility




groups alienate

which become groups

which alienate

ego border



even in reaching out its meant to grab you

monsters in sunlight are far worse

than those in shadow

demonstrations in Seattle on CSPAN in summer


textiles in Louisiana

assembly line



separation of art from artist
comment !.

[15 Dec 2004|01:08pm]

[ mood | chipper ]

"Shake off all the fears of servile prejudices, under which weak minds are servilely crouched. Fix reason firmly in her seat, and call on her tribunal for every fact, every opinion. Question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason than that of blindfolded fear."

Thomas Jefferson

1 small thoughtcomment !.

random thoughts [27 Nov 2004|02:54pm]

[ mood | thoughtful ]

let's observe the things amongst us that are slowly eating away at our sense of well-being. never in my lifetime would i have thought that luxuries would be a slow way of suicide on both my physical and mental stability. i hate living in an age where progress constitutes losing something in the process. compromise today means a mere loss that means nothing, but on the contrary it's still a loss. small losses added together can be a bigger, more complicated problem. every unique problem in every human egocentric predicament is diverse, yet this diversity can create even a bigger problem. power today is centralized in many senses, and yet the masses allow this corruption because of rational ignorance. why do people let these things happen? because the intellegent can progress, but the ignorant can be stagnant. decade by decade, the masses can be easily be swayed to be the slaves to this earth. in due time, it will be an irreversible trend that will lead to destruction.

comment !.

[26 Nov 2004|02:30pm]
it's that time of the year again, folks..

stanley donwood christmas greeting cards!

available for purchase at zee w.a.s.t.e. website. but i'm sure you savvy plebeians knew that already, yeah?
2 small thoughtscomment !.

poor fools.... [03 Nov 2004|08:00pm]

it's going to be another fearful 4 years.........
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the feeling of college... [19 Oct 2004|12:45pm]

[ mood | confused ]

...I feel as though I am Odysseus stranded on the island of the Sirens. So many good things, yet I miss home dearly......

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...frio... [15 Oct 2004|03:11pm]

[ mood | drained ]

The weather is getting colder. The leaves are falling. The colors are mood-changing...children, put something soothing in your cd players, because it will be a long, cold winter....

comment !.

[19 Apr 2004|08:37pm]

please check out the genius and madness that is radiohead.com!
(if you haven't done so already)
4 small thoughtscomment !.

[13 Mar 2004|02:05am]

[ mood | awake ]

I thought I would let you all know I have awakened from my coma, and would like to say Hi. So Hi.

I don't feel like writting a poem though. Not right now.

And yes, I stole my pic from Mr. Donwood.

comment !.

Hooray and Yippee [11 Feb 2004|09:13pm]

[ mood | bouncy ]

The existance of this community is most unexpected.. I'm pleasantly surprised. So to get to know everyone here, write a very short poem.
Here is mine:
A tone chimes
Signaling something
While the gap between your teeth

comment !.

are you all comatose? [26 Jan 2004|12:51am]

practical jokes, again: a recent favorite of mine.
1 small thoughtcomment !.

[02 Jan 2004|11:29am]

oh my.
how tight is this.
comment !.

newbie [10 Dec 2003|09:18pm]

[ mood | weird ]


11 small thoughtscomment !.

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