The Dark Memoirs
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  The Garden The meaning to this memoir does revolve around the prejudice of the world I intend to give out very often. It focuses on my hate for religion, dolebludgers and antiwar protestors. I have always hated those groups and I show no remorse for what I have written. Personally, I couldn't care less how dark my opinion may be, and I certainly don't care who takes offence to it.

The Garden

I looked through the mind of a capitalist and I saw them as nothing more then crops trapped in the void of purpose. They served only one purpose, to spend their worthless little lives on whatever they can – yet they were only living to die anyway. Pathetically, they make pointless salvations over pointless occasions, whether it is their existence elapsing eighteen years, or whether it is a weakening obsession of their committed bonds with their partners that has elapsed a year ahead.


They were looking for excuses to earn their salvation, like children waiting the day they get their next toy. In this garden of conflict and failure they cared for nothing but themselves, they accused the dark thinkers of being narrow-minded. They classified the unique individuals of being strange with their primitive expressions such as, “weird”. They blamed the successors for their own failures in hope of looking less inferior then they had already achieved. They then started robbing their own hierarchy to support themselves for their endless laziness; finally, they multiplied themselves so that their newly created drones could assist in the leeching.


When they could not leech anymore, they robbed their hierarchy even more; burning any opposition they could. When they were gifted, they turned around and asked for more; there was nothing the suffering could do to save themselves from the legalized collectors. They are disguised as the rest of the crops, but their bony fingers open into an accepting palm as it gently crackles open. One day I know that some of my funding will be given to the bony palm when it reaches out to accept, if I do not submit, the palm will make a concaving turn to rip the layer of skin used to portray my face.


I heard screaming and vocals of sorrow, the crops were descending into anarchy. I asked the farmer what was wrong, unenthusiastically he told me of the harvester. The ready crops were ready to test their mettle… On the battlefield! The witnessing crops went to extremist methods to show how much they disagree on the battle that is taking place. Yet another garden is in further crises to our inferior knowledge of hypnotizing propaganda. It is mostly the youthfully idiotic crops that believe peace can be carried out by their disruption of peace. On both my feet I saw how adjacent they truly were, children never meant to been born. Martyrs of the current century, the bastardized majority carrying out a plague across every end of the garden. Those rebelling their opinion would be likely to experience a premature harvesting day.


This is our garden corrupted by endless human failure only upgrading into a psychological holocaust. The worthless lives are continuously spent on pathetic salvations and revolts. The dark thinkers remain muted and the unique remain invisible to the crops holding no ground. My heart is beating with anger; it is bleeding for the garden I try so hard to love. If it bleeds too rapidly I will realize that my breathing tightens to ungodly difficulties. On one knee I stare at the small patches of garden beneath me and I hold out my hand for additional support. Saliva wants to leak from my mouth but I use my remaining energy to grit my teeth, to revive the enthusiasm in my hands so that they may form into fists, and to use the energy for ascending back on my feet again.
  The Car Park

Based on a dream I had in drunkeness, I know not anymore whther this should even stay up

The Car Park


It wasn’t the best party I had ever been to, but it’s been a long time since I had attended one. As I entered the front door the carry bag of my bass guitar was clutched in my left hand, while the puny amplifier and the paper bag consisting six full strength cans of beer, I some how managed to push the button on the door to operate the doorbell. My good friend answered the door and opened it wide enough for me to walk through the doorway. Words of greeting were exchanged as I walked to his room to place the amplifier in the least distracting spot I could find. The paper bag was placed into one of his bed drawers with permission, while my bass guitar was gently leaned in a stable position next to his bed. Unaware of the fate throughout the rest of the night, we played an addictive game of table tennis in order to wait for the coming guests. Obviously, I was the first to arrive at the part… Typical of such a thing for me to do, I hated people that would come “fashionably late”, it is not “cool” at all, it is disrespectful.

The second one came, I have always had a bad habit of making fun of him, at the time it seems necessary, later on I feel full of regret. We are known to have obsessions for music; it always works out well because we practically have the same taste in music. The third one turned up half an hour later to astonish us with the amount of booze he brought along with him. The last one had to come because I gave him no other choice – as he was about to decline his attendance.


We watched a movie that we had finally made; I acted as a psychotic serial killer. To my disappointment, the script I had carefully devised was overly edited; depriving my R rated horror movie to an MA, quite frankly the amount of coarse language stopped it from dropping to a PG. I didn’t care too much anymore as I celebrated what I could of it by drinking excessively… No, I’m lying. I got away from reality before the movie had even elapsed half way. Drunkenly, I was happy for the first time, nothing could bring me down; beer was now my best friend. I needed more and more booze - I finally lost count as I rolled around on the floor, my friends were slightly intimidated by me but also happy, as they knew they would never see such a happy man.


The second attendee told me some secrets that would never be forgotten, my tongue seemed to have had a mind of it’s own as I expressed my inner hatred that I have of my ex girlfriends. Sadly, there was no end to my loss of control as I was remembered to have vomited three times. The first time was also the first party I had ever vomited in… I didn’t care as I continued drinking in order to lead to the second time; I finally got the idea to stop drinking after such procreation from my defeated liver. The third time, I failed to reach the white bowl as puke burst through the gaps between my gritted teeth. It streamed down my jacket and splattered onto the floor as I pushed the door open and landed hard on my knees to vomit directly in the bowl, some of the streaming brushed the sleeves of my jacket.


I had entered a new world of darkness and the everlasting decay of my own body, I could feel the parasites gnawing on my stomach as I struggled to the bathroom to squeeze toothpaste into my mouth. My feet were away from me, the horror of losing balance was engraved into my mind, I was convinced that falling from my feet would be like falling off a building. I was no longer in a house but a dark car park of confusion. Shadows were looking scary because they began to look like objects, like shallow faces being pressed against your bedroom window in the middle of the night. I saw a shallow face staring at me from the darkness. It had such a face and an invisible body; it crept toward me. I ran, as the fear was overwhelming even for me.


This fear was not one of consequences but one of not knowing the consequences and not eager to find out. I ran behind a car, how could I be so stupid? The face probably knew the area better then I did, and the cars were so big that I didn’t know where the face was. I checked that it wasn’t under the car to grab my ankle, or behind me to grab my spine, or above me to pounce upon me. After checking…. It was right in front of, close enough to kiss, close enough to hurl me to the ground, close enough to start strangling me, close enough to capture my conscience forever by looking at me directly in the eyes.


I was no longer in the car park, I was there in the bathroom holding the stupid toothpaste in my hand, I had forgotten to turn the lights on when entering the kitchen…


  The awaiting Armagedion A rather scientific approach to the fate of the world. I did not feel in any certain way while writing my memoir... At least not the type of feeling that an average reader would think. This is my response to everyone's theories on how the world may die. Many like to think that warfare will somehow blow the world up, others like to think that the earth will exist long enough to get so close to the sun that the world will most likely fry. This is my theory.

The awaiting Armageddon

Another day had arrived. I looked at my watch to see that one-minute had passed the midnight. I couldn’t sleep anymore, I was deserted with several uncomfortable thoughts that pressed in my brain, how could such a complicated brain expect to have any rest from itself if it had a dedication to disrupting itself over and over again? Perhaps this brain didn’t want rest. But what does an average brain think about in the first place? The miseries and desires of life; such as money, power, sex, and maybe even world dominance. But today, the mind was forced awake by the fear of the Armageddon that is due. Am I afraid? I would love to say that I am not but I honestly don’t know if I am.

I once read a bible story called “Noah’s Ark”, a story of an ark made in order to flee from the cleansing of the earth. I also saw a movie about that bible story; god was displayed as a rather generous fellow as he spoke to little Noah. Two of each animal species had to be collected into the ark, so obviously the two animals would have to be male and female in order to cease the extinction of any species until the species becomes naturally extinct by human activities and decisions.

This time, it isn’t god that arranges the cleansing of the earth, but the earth itself, otherwise known as Mother Nature. But Mother Nature is a complete whore for many reasons. Nature wasn’t supposed to be in control anymore, because science had already taken over the earth. Nature had to then bring the Armageddon as a result of it being dethroned, how typical. Science was bringing some good into the world, we should be grateful for the fact that religion was abolished not too long ago, in my youths, I remember the war between religion and atheism. The stumping of Moslem extremists… the arson committed on churches and meeting halls of Christians and Jehovah’s Witnesses. Of course, the Free Masons and The Jews had taken over the business world and achieved their own tyranny of justice and functions.

Now, the Armageddon has come to this day and the morning sunlight has intervened my blinds. I step out of bed and walk to open my blinds. Everywhere I look I see the ocean that has taken over the world. Yes, I am in a skyscraper building and just because the moon has decided to come back to the earth, the entire planet is drowned. I am alone in this sea smelling building wishing that I had at least one person around me. In fact, I wish that the other person were a woman, a beautiful woman that I could love and be with and prevent the extinction of the human race as well as the world population.

But I am here all alone and deserted. At least the fish still swim in the sea. Dangers such as sharks prevent me from being able to swim in hope of dry land. The evolution of the world has restarted here and again. I am left to rot. hopefully the spiders and roaches can survive long enough to see dry land again. When the bugs and insects run out of dirt and other vermin, they are more then welcomed to feast on my corpse, I intend to wonder if my eyes will completely rot or get eaten – I do value my eyes, it would be such a shame if they lost their use after I die of hunger. But if I choose to eat every scrap in the building and turn to the vermin, I will end up erasing several other existing species. Maybe I could go fishing but there will be nothing to stop me from aging…