The final move…. I think.

Always liked the name of this old blog and I liked the atmosphere of it as well so I’ve decided to try to start it back up. This time I’m going with a domain though, so head over to the new Dust on a Dusty Road.


Poem – Perfect Funeral Music – Final Edition.

Eerie yet beautiful,
the piano music spread through air
like a fish swimming in clear water,
its notes sparkling
like tiny rainbows
by a waterfall in the sun

The ghostly music conjuring
magnificent sadness
a reminder of what was
and what grandeur might await.

Further waves of sound
refused to disappear
until everyone was enlightened
in a moment of optimism and sadness
that lingered.

A last demonstration of the stubborn nature of the deceased.

The gender fixation and generalization disgusts me.

I see it every day, I hear it everyday, generalizing negative comments about men as a whole. It’s basically everywhere, youths today are basically taught that “most men” only think about one thing. And also while I may not hear this as much in public, there are a lot of “private talks” on the subject of women that have a rather negative turn. Gold diggers etc etc… I mean, honest to god I know pretty much as many superficial females as males, I know huge jerks of both genders, I know arrogant people of both genders, I also know great people of both genders, caring friends almost always up for an entertaining conversation.

Just a quick search on google gave me over 600 000 results for generalazing terms such as: “Men are pigs” “Women are whores” “Men suck” and “women suck”. What’s up with that? Stop bringing half our species into it when one person wrongs you, it’s like if a man\woman kills my friend, I’ll just go around killing random men\women saying “shouldn’t have killed my friend murderer”.
What’s up with the generalization? Give me a break already. Open your eyes, people are never the same, even twins. I have two words for you “men haters” and “women haters” that you honestly need to hear: Grow up.

Swine flu – The fake pandemic.

Yet another overhyped flu, makes you wonder about the real motives of the media…

One hundred.. and Fifty (Fiction)

The man opened his eyes slowly, and to his surprise found himself standing in the middle of a road in something remotely similar to the American suburbs he had once known so well. He paid no notice to the truck heading his way, and continued walking towards it. The first sign of impact was when his nose was pressed flat against his face. He stopped, realizing his nose could not have struck the front of the truck as he now was standing behind it. The fact that he had the ability to pass through trucks provoked no reaction whatsoever in the man, instead he pressed his fingers against the air in front of him. As I thought, thought the man as he started testing the seemingly impenetrable air with his fingers.

A growing sense of unease wakened in his stomach. He could not seem to pass his fingers through the air, moreover the man was unable to see anything different about the area. Somehow he knew that waking so close to the border of your territory was unheard of, which was the only reason he felt the need to test the air at all, but to anyone else the most obvious irregularity would have been the slow monotonous music of a foreign voice telling him “one hundred… and fifty” seemingly from the depth of his mind. Despite this the man kept pressing his fingers against different parts of the border, just to make sure that indeed it was the end of his territory. But of course, he thought irregularities often appear concerning the first of each week, this must be the case here.

The man again unsurprised at the information seemingly devoid of a source. No longer interested, the man turned away from the invisible wall and peered into the windows of one of the many almost identical white houses. Old age well, organ failure, how boring. He thought as he moved on to a house nearby. Car accident eh? He thought and started walking down the middle of the road again. He knew that it could take days, weeks, months and even years before he actually found someone that piqued his interest enough that he would alter their lives. Just finding something like a car accident was a rather rare occasion.

After inspecting a few more houses, cancer and heart failure seem almost too regular, what’s wrong with this neighborhood? He thought, and was getting rather bored, however slowly he could feel an ominous presence closing in. He could sense that someone whose life had been changed was nearing his position. And at the same time he could feel that the cause changed for the people living in the house he was closest to, now when he examined the married couple sitting on the couch in front of the TV, the foreign voice in his head whispered murder.

Feeling of clearness.

Have you ever felt the feeling of clearness that often follows after a realization of such a size that it aptly sends chills through your body, in the following seconds time seems to slow down a bit and calmness spreads throughout your mind and body, together with a feeling of clearness, that whatever question you chose to pursue at the moment you will be able to and also at the moment you seem to have a deeper understanding of things answers that have avoided you for so long seem to be at the tip of your tongue, maybe even present in your mind completely.

Maybe it’s an increase in adrenalin, maybe it’s not, it’s probably some sort of chemical reaction, but nevertheless with the shortcomings of scientific knowledge today who’s to say there’s not another aspect to the effects of the mind and body.

Personal favorite poem.

So this is my personal favorite among all the poems I have written. I wrote this back when I was 15, and edited it today. The reason I posted about it again is just because I want more people to read it, that’s all there is to it.

Ramblings of an old man.

The old man lay upon the floor,
The young man stood at the door.
My son, The old man said,
The young man looked at him in dread.

I’m dying my friend, but I’ll be born again,
And I even though I might be insane,
A few lines I will speak nonetheless,
About the whole of this mess.

For those who may be bound,
I leave this wicked ground.
For those who fear in dread,
the terrors of the dead,
Its all a simple lie,
That it is bad to die.

For those who are left behind,
See the world as kind,
For those who left you will,
Live beyond here still.

Their thoughts will still be born, And useful things be bred.
Even though, they’re not in flesh, Ideas can still be spread.

For those who live here still,
Stay true in heart and will,
And face the hardest life,
With honesty or knife.

For the afterlife is the same.
And the violence there will still maim.
Whether you die in peace or in pain.
Whether you die sane or insane.

Poem – boredom.

Hmm finally managed to think up something to write a poem about, the writing itself always comes rather easily to me, after the first line that is, but finding something to write a poem about is a pain.


Boredom is a state of mind, an opinionated feeling
Nothing, rarely, dislike
To concentration it’s a spike
Boredom grows with time
Like a slowly doubling dime
Increasing restlessness sends your thoughts reeling.

Slowly it builds up like a pond, slowly ever slow
Anxiety, restlessness, impatience
Side effects, in a sense
The inner chemicals in a brawl
The amounts rising barely at a crawl
The inner winds of chaos slowly start to blow.

Escaping is fairly easy, something interesting to do
Writing, watching, playing
Entertainment rather swaying
The inner winds are calming down
In a sea of entertainment they drown
Boredom, anxiety and restlessness gone until born anew.

The I love boredom concept.

Yes, boredom. So what’s up with boredom anyway, people always say they’re bored when they have nothing to do, so doesn’t that make being bored the natural state of a human being? So why aren’t we satisfied with being bored, is it because of our thoughts, or our instincts?

Why is it not a pleasing thing to feel bored ? I’d say at least part of it is instinct as the fact that we actually managed to evolve this far comes from a lot of struggle and a whole lot of reproducing. But boredom of course does not only have one definition, for example there are many people that think certain activities are boring, or many kinds of activities like I do. Just imagine the good it could do if people started to perceive boredom positively, people would love their boring regular jobs and do them more effectively, people that already have jobs they like will strive to work effectively so they can get home and finally get that boredom they’ve waited for all day, even people that are depressed because they lives are dull and boring etc.. will get cheered up because boredom is so wonderful! Just imagine the wonders it could do for couples of the verge of breaking up because they bore each other, the world will turn into a wonderful place if we all start loving boredom!

On a serious note, I hate boredom and that is one of the reason I always put off going to sleep every day until I’m so tired I’ll just fall asleep instantly.


I just can’t seem motivated to just write about my boring daily doings, therefore I’ll try to post a few of the poems I write here now and then.

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