Accessories To The Crime.

Accessories To The Crime.

You never have to justify to me,Any "reason" for not reading my work.It exists as passive entertainment,Or education,After all.Pieces of me.Harvest Dopamine.For myself.You later readers are all just…Accessories to the crime.Your dopamine has always been,Secondary.Irrelevant to me.

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This World Is Rotten, Rotting Even Still.

This World Is Rotten, Rotting Even Still.

This World Is Rotten,Rotting Even Still.too much with us Yet somehow something from which we are still completely devoid. Liars,Corruption,Evils wrought from stupidity & ignorance.Hate.Fighting for solace? Nah.Just survival.To keep our heads above water. <> < <>< <> Yet...

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Gauche. Simple. Effective.

Gauche. Simple. Effective.

You can't stop me.No matter how hard.No immovable force.Such things never existed,'Ere I wouldn't know -How/Ho the story ends,As if my blunt title blunted my blunt -Metaphors.Ignore the blood trickling,There.I've seen horrors you could only fathom,After a lifetime of nightmares,Induced by the...

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Dead Women.

Dead Women.

How many dead women,Have I known?Poor lady who died.Heart attack,Day after her wedding.Or fourteen,Same as me.Forever.Hung herself downstreet,From the basements I frequented.ODs.How many men?Substance abuse.Self-medication,Eventually leading to lonely suicide.Half a dozen,More,Perhaps.

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4:30 wakeup. 12:18 poem.

4:30 wakeup. 12:18 poem.

Crying alone.Dark room.Familiar.Feeling unsafe,Constant.4:30 wakeup.12:18 poem.Anxiety.Crushed into a white-blue fusion star.Crying silent.Catch a feeling in a poem -Betrayal.Hurt.Frustration.Anger.Disappointment.This:Armor cracks.Rusts.Shatters.Throw it all away.Bucketed Crabs.Disgusting.

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Just Your Casket Talking.

Just Your Casket Talking.

0XOne in many reasons -To take vows of Pacifism:Back in my youth,Talk shit?Get hit.Fists & frothing rage.Back to paleolithics.Rule by power.Don't like someone?Crush them.I refuse.Must be better than my birth,In hunting Peace,When bred for War,By many means.Just your casket talking.

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Mirrors Making Rage,Of A Caged Sage.

Mirrors Making Rage,Of A Caged Sage.

I hate you.Yes.You.With the slack jawed gaze,Glazed face satiations.Strange sensations.Fluff between ears.Grey Matter fats jiggling,In cerebrospinal-fluid baths.Hate you.Just you.Nobody else.Does it anger you?To finally see hatred reflected back?Mirrors Making Rage,Of A Caged Sage.

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Cupped Hands.

Cupped Hands.

One Day,Sit down.As eventual right hands may be.With a counselor.Can tell horror stories,Told her.Struggle to tell them,More often than not.Hiding meaning.Even myself,Perhaps.Hurt washed away:Ribbons -Of Metaphor.Picking up my blood,Cupped hands,Trying to pour it back In:Open wounds.

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“Snakes.” Quoth The World Serpent.

“Snakes.” Quoth The World Serpent.

Pain Continues.Crueler hearts than mine,As I try to keep it.Can never let that Machiavelli out -'Ere I end a world.Misanthrope.Once again.Then evermore.Hungry:Kindness,Perhaps even love.Watch as railway spikes;Pneumatic punched,Through my open palms."Snakes."Quoth The World Serpent.

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Eye To Eye.

Eye To Eye.

Five Thirty AM.Tossing.Turning.Unable to sleep.6am wakeup following.Hurt.Again.Lots claim to be my friends,When it suits them.But at this point I'm always ready,For the feeling of a knife,Sinking into my back.They never have the common courtesy,To stab me through my ribs.Eye to Eye.You Come At...

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Dirty Note In A Greasy Knuckle Gutter.

Dirty Note In A Greasy Knuckle Gutter.

“Nobody wants me anyways. Decade ago, might be self-pity. Now it's just ever deepening disappointment with Humans being shitty as norm, & resolve to just keep on keepin' on regardless of constant shit talk, or ad hominem attacks + strawmanning. Just gonna be me even if nobody wants me. I want...

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Goodnight: Void. NumberAshenStrawMouth

Goodnight: Void. NumberAshenStrawMouth

Goodnight:Void.No one else.None deserve it.One day,Hope hate will stop.Can escape such pettiness,Ugly,For.Good.No more being strawman,Set aflame,Burning again & again.So,Like a Telltale game:"McRAE WILL REMEMBER THIS."Blacklist.Avoid.Move on.No names.Mere ash in my straw mouth.

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“Fry, lechery, fry!”

“Fry, lechery, fry!”

'tis warrant,I suppose -That corruption must be exterminated,Not just with extreme prejudice,But bathing transparent light of honour,Plus honesty.Morals & Values dictating days -Even if us lesser evils,Stand aloof from rest.Always stood aloof,I suppose.Such lewd attractions,Aren't me.

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Placate.

Placate.

Silly little Humans…Running around like worker bees,Superorganisms dedicated to hierarchy.Corporations masquerading as "families."Blind to wage slavery.Lies of working up.As if middle management -Ever rises to board!Lies:To control.Placate.Humans;Mere cattle for production,Or profit.

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Keeping me here.

Keeping me here.

Haunted by my past.Hundred horror hollows,Eroded out inside me.Empty void space;Where a child used to be.Survivalism as apex -Promoted to my own detriments.Now as adult:Wraith.Ghost.World Serpent.Drifting solitary.Haunting alone.My many impossible goals?Only things;Keeping me here.

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Where I spoke to you from beyond a time.

Where I spoke to you from beyond a time.

Do they midnight sonder?Like I Do?Surely some must,Or the bell curves of demographics -Would not have produced me,Capable of such simplicity.Chaos Theory,Does not tolerate my hesitations.Sonder away,Until one of them finds my digital carcass,Pixel skeletons in different fonts,Telling the stories...

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McRae’s MTG Corner: Siloing CEDH & EDH

Ew, I got CEDH in my EDH… Today we’re here to talk about power levels in the casual commander format, as well as how to encourage better CEDH & EDH play by more carefully separating the two formats despite their strange interwoven nature. As a “retired” L1 Judge for Magic: The Gathering, I’m...

The Pickup Truck Diaries: “The Second Most Prolific Poet In History” & Goal Setting.

Let’s start this edition of The Pickup Truck Diaries with a rhetorical question: “How does one go about achieving the goals they’ve set for themselves?” I’ll give you a few minutes to pause and think about that. Most folks have already started churning their brains into realistic “brass tacks”...

Central Universe Science Fiction Shorts: An Update!

Campfire. Come gather 'round the campfire. Let me tell you a story. Several small ones, in fact! It started a month or two ago, when I had a bunch of hits on "Our Better Angels" via the 'ol analytics. Now, I've been running this little business for half a decade - so out of neurotic perfectionism,...

McRae’s MTG Corner: The Rainbow Bible. (AKA The Rukarumel “Gay Pirates!” Tribal Tribal CEDH Primer.)

WARNING: This piece clocks in at 62,000+ words. It currently holds the record for longest "CEDH Primer" ever written. (Although it's more like a textbook or resource guide to Tribal Archetypes, and Rainbow/5c Magic, really.) It is over half the size of my sci fi books. Please remember to drink...

McRae’s MTG Corner: Tempo For Dummies (Especially For Commander.)

Aight, we back yet again. Somehow in my long years of being an L1 Judge and Modern and EDH player, I had never realized that learning tempo in Magic The Gathering is a rather visceral experience, in that you learn experientially. For the layman, that means that you have to learn that deep sense of...

Teal With Ancient Silt.

These Woods Exude Fear.My Forests Release Power.Drunk like fresh glacier runoff,Teal with ancient silt. BOOK.THE BOOK!This tiny empty book;We'll fill together -My love.1 Poem At A Time.2 Sides,Front & Back.A Rule I Levy,You'll Never Even Know. Barefoot.Dirty,Calloused Bottoms. x

Grief Is Strange.

Hello,All my former lovers.Shall we pick apart a dozen reasons,Why things didn't work out?Crossed wires,'Ere harsh truths?Hah.I'm not that much of a fuckhead.Some of you?I'll love until the day I die.Let's keep our mourning in our back pocket,Instead.Grief is strange.

Cigarellos.

How many times?This exact thing,In this exact place?Smoking in the yacht club parking lot,Listening to the Friday night bands,At the bar a block north.Back at 15 or 16 -I'd just go to the liquor store in my work clothes.Black grease stained face & visi gear.Reeking of orange clean.Buy beer or...

Enough Doom For One Day.

Enough Doom For One Day.Still lack power, wealth, or influence,To fix the biggest problems of Humanity.So today I respect my reach:Clean my house,Bake some rosemary,& banana bread.Breathe deep of vapor -Contemplate life as always,Inevitably growing scope & scale,To orbitals.Dreaming Big.

Was Taught That Way.

My clan lineage,Down this particular branch?Remains endangered,At best.Destined towards extinction,At worst.Maybe it's better that way?Not sure.Wanted to leave worlds better,Than I found them.Was taught that way.Not sure which teachings remain good.Which stay bad.Everything in between.

From Void I Came, To The Void I’ll Return.

Drinking Diesel.Guzzling Gasoline.Killing Kerosene.THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS.Gunpowder plots,In staccato.Arpeggio screams,Grinding bone to dust.This frail body,Cranking out heat.Or perhaps heat as mere byproduct,As before.Tar As Metaphor:From Void I Came,To The Void I'll Return.

Between Fact, & Imperative.

Still Breathing,Motherfuckers!Despite my white scarred histories -I'm probably the least fucked up!My kin all have it much worse.Lactose Intolerant.But you're god damn right I still raw dog,Dat sheet.Faced Grizzly Bears.You,Ain't shit.I love blurring the lines,Between Fact,& Imperative.

When I Call You…

When I call you,Will you rise?Act?Fight?Or will you run away,Cowardly in the face of great challenge?When the time comes,Who can I count on?Will I be fighting alone -As always?Poised against the hungering dark,Ready to sacrifice,Prepared to die.Solitary? Who would heed my calls?Who'd stand by my...

Gnawing Like Rats.

Been lax,Amongst laymen.Lost,Living little,Lured by dopamine.Hunger never quelled before.Chewing wood & metal to pieces -Making tiny little rounded balls,To swallow.Old traumas,Ignorant of my neurodiversities.Share these dark black circles,Sunken sockets,With kin.Never enough sleep.

An Anxious Gnawing Of The Tail.

Cacophony envisioned,Such beautiful chaos.A hungry universe,Chomping at the bit.Metaphor for mine tail,Gnawed to ribbons.Like the knuckles of my fists.Sunset is calling us.Was a man of valleys.Mountains devoured the sun,Vomited it back up again.Casting long shadows.

Cherry Blossom Dreams. // Roses In My Closet.

The petals are an eyesore, four score and twenty years in the baking, perfect trust fund babies making rust. I demand dust and echoes to keep track of the years, fourscore in all, but I’m appalled at the fall of tulips in May, and not a single damn day goes by that I don’t inspect the withered...

some free advice

here,logger guru,some free advice,FROM A WYRMAn Ending,So We Can Have Beginnings.Devouring Entire Generations,With Power Of Sheer Entropy.Social Engineering -Most Powerful Weapon I Could Ever Wield.Consuming A Zeitgeist So Entirely,As I Can,To Juice My Pattern Recognition A Hundredfold.

Good Sex.

Find me wanting.Best sex I ever had?Me,Light dom,She was a sub.Played her nerve endings like a piano.Have to work to impress me,Skilled in a half dozen arts.Eagerness is but one rung to climb,Towards perfection.Always shoot for serenity.I dislike disappointing them.

We Get To Choose Who We’ll Be.

Simpler truths,Will do.Wisdoms kept in back pockets,Schemes in perpetuity.Shared freely.Witnessing a pupil dilate,Looking into a lover's iris.Hazel gradients,Purest devotion.Rustling of wind,Through the crab grasses.Racing across tidal channels,Sprinting & leaping the muddy furrows.Racing...