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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Kung-Fu Mystery Theater's LiveJournal:
| Thursday, August 23rd, 2001 | |
| 2:33 pm [zombiebird] |
This next one is just some thought that I had last night at my friend's house. It's not really developed; but I thought I'd throw it on here regardless. ZombieBird's Every Day Is A Fish A wise man once said that we should live each day as if it is our last. Lots of people say that this is their personal philosophy. A lot of people say that they abide by it. None one really does, though. If God came down and said that today was your last, would you honestly be doing what you're doing right now? Would you even bother going to work? Would you wash the dishes? Would you clean your house? Would you put up with people who bothered you? Or would you rob a bank? And give all of the money away? Or spend it on prostitutes? Would you try dangerous, mind-altering drugs? Would you tell everyone what's on your mind? Would you tell them off? Would you slap that cashier at the 7-11 for the time he gave you a hassle? Would you strap dynamite around your waist and take a live television show studio hostage? Would you crash a car, and run away from the accident? Would you repent when it was all over, and thank God for telling you that it was your last day so you could do all of the things that you wanted to do? Was it everything that you wanted to do? Was everything that you had ever wanted to do a cheap thrill with no actual redeeming value? Was everything that you wanted to do so short term and wreckless that all you would really end up doing is being a minor inconvenience for people until you die? Would you really want to traumatize so many people and cause so much damage, just because it's your last day to live? And what if it wasn't? What about now. Today may be your last day to live, but you certainly aren't acting like it is. You could die on the toilet of a rare heart failure before going to bed, for all you know; and you're not doing anything about it. Should we really live each day as if it's our last? Accomplish as many minor, annoying goals as possible? Or should we live each day as if it's our first, and constantly be in a state of wonder over all the world has to offer? Or quite possibly, maybe we should just live our life day by day, and have long-term goals planned out that may not give us immediate gratification; but quite possibly a shot at a happy future. Maybe not, though. Maybe our goals are too high or too low, maybe we'll think we found that happiness and take a nose dive into mediocrity before we get to know the world. Maybe we should live each as if it's a fish. That really doesn't make much sense. There really isn't any way we can live our lives as if our life was a fish. And maybe that's a good thing. Maybe we're supposed to live our lives as fish, and not make any sense of it; and maybe we should all stop being so selfish, or selfless, and just go with things; and live our own little fishs in our own little fishy ways; swimming to the top of the tank to get food, playing at the bottom in the plastic castle. Maybe not, though. |
| Sunday, August 19th, 2001 | |
| 7:43 pm [slytheran] |
Consumibles?  List of things consumed by a five year old boy in a span of 10 hours. one blueberry pancake with butter and syrup stray blueberries that didnt make it into pancakes two biscuits covered in sausage gravy three man sized handfuls of bugles buttered crackers and a can of sardines 1/4 of a large watermelon lasagna two pieces of processed ham a bagel with cream cheese and salami green olives a strawberry popcicle vanilla wafer crackers peanuts orange sunny delight animal cookies potato chips more peanuts milk 5 year old boys are bottomless pits. Current Mood: observant |
| 12:45 am [zombiebird] |
Sorry, this is really stupid. I'm just bored out of my mind. Water By Zombie Bird Water is free. Cups are not. Ladles are not. Pots are not. Bottles are not. Sinks are not. Sinks give us water. Lakes give us water. Lakes are free, sometimes. Other times they are not. Sometimes they have bears by them, and they maul thirsty people. Sometimes, we sit back and cry to drink our tears; because we have not paid our utility bills; and are not given water. We cry so we do not have to go to the lake, and watch out for bears. We drink our own urine. It is sterile. We recycle it until we get sick of it and go to the lake and get mauled by bears. Water is free. Bear repellent is not. |
| Tuesday, August 7th, 2001 | |
| 3:17 am [zombiebird] |
"untitled for now" By Zombie Bird I'm going to destroy you get so cocky I'll annoy you think you can finish me go ahead, try to diminish me then I'll deploy new strategies and apogees bodies chopping, burning leaves, did you really believe that satanic fraternity when they told you that your evil could last for all of eternity? Brothers circumvent over your time well spent despite you unite you fail to represent untouched cruelty and you don't fool me don't touch me, or you'll see how you fuel me with your apathy your lack of tyranny got no sociopathy sit up and stand still see how your abusive Father gave you Free Will Divine generousity overkill He meant well it was ill-inconcieved, under-perceived now I'm taking you to Hell. fire and brimstone demons unknown I rule over you now step in the light, take your bow this is your descent it's too late to repent you never stood a chance anyhow |
| Monday, August 6th, 2001 | |
| 2:38 am [zombiebird] |
To The Edge And Back By Zombie Bird A lot of people will go through life never leaving their home town. A lot of people will marry their high school sweet heart. A lot of people will go through life with the same job, same friends, same hangouts, same situations. A lot of people will never reach their full potential, and believe that they already have, and that they have a point of reference that no one else can challenge, and if they do, then that person obviously has no idea what they're talking about, and is an idiot. A lot of people will go through life with a feeling of self-importance and self-worth, believing that they have it the hardest, and do the most work, even though they're lazy and have no special talents that they've used since grade school. A lot of people will go through life without any notions of anything greater, or try anything new, exciting, or intellectually stimulating. Their worldliness does not surpass channels 3, 5, and 9. A lot of people will go through life in an idle state. A lot of people will go through life without a clue of how things are. A lot of people will go through life without developing any of their thoughts or ideas, and be completely satisfied. Not me, though. I've already been to the edge and back. I've already surpassed greatness. I've rubbed my butt on Doug Flutie's Mailbox. |
| Saturday, August 4th, 2001 | |
| 10:00 pm [gregconley] |
I wrote this last night... A Dirge Before Dying I look out before me at the caustic killing fields. My blade is broken, my halberd lost, my soul scattered all-astray. The women-ghouls loot my shattered form As our enemies dance and sway. My essence stripped, my spirit coiled, I tremble, shake and die. Harmonics counterpoint my breath, The pipers, low and high. A darkened umbra inanimate, A demon fells my mind. My brain is withered, shriveled dead, Nothing left to find. Tears unshed now boil forth As I spew my heart-blood race And long before the killing blow, I’m blind in feeble-face. Current Mood: annoyed Current Music: Jimmy Buffett: Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw |
| Thursday, August 2nd, 2001 | |
| 8:14 pm [zombiebird] |
ZOMBIE BIRD PREDICTS!!! No matter how much make-up you wear and no matter the color of your hair, aliens will always look at you funny with a cold, blank stare. |
| Wednesday, August 1st, 2001 | |
| 9:36 pm [gregconley] |
Here's something new... Prayer: Paicun Oh sweet Seafarer, bless us this day. The water is furtive, we sail on our way. Your story is told, relentless search bold, And how prince met the gods, past white waters cold. Your flight, long ago, from a treasonous man, To take in, and nurture, to fight when you can. This lesson we learned as dream-like we yearned. Kept your friends close and the evil you burned. Rise up from the sea and master our dawn, The sun is your ship, and the chaos you calm. Admiral o’er fleet, your concourse so sweet, You found all the islands, ruled o’er their heat. Oh sweet Seafarer, bless us this day. Our road is unseen but we’ll find a way. Your children we are, neath planets and stars, A lion to match, you rule from afar. ~ I'm taking suggestions for a different name, by the way... ~ I guess it really doesn't match what this group's supposed to be about, but I'm not sure if it matters... If it does, sorry. : ( Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Phish |
| Tuesday, July 31st, 2001 | |
| 3:45 pm [gregconley] |
Some comments please.. *raises the curtains* I wrote this a while back, but I thought I'd post it for kicks... It's kind of a riddle, and only a few people have gotten the gist of it... It's mystic instructions, phrased to weed out the weak and stupid... Or something like that. : ) To Open the Grimoire Beleaguered blood floats in the vessel, the garnet stone is blue. The ruby winks its facet-blood, derive the power true. The chirugeon chances his heart so pure, “dovie-ande se semain.” Roll the dice you luckless fool, feel the powers gain. Fly at Fate and blind his eyes, the shining diamond cracks. If your hands to smoke doth curl, the power you do lack. The darkness deepens, night sets in, the gibbering girl to die. If she lives when stars are birthed, feel the power lie. One for the power that makes us blind, one for the top of the tower. The third brings blood from deriven child. Open, awaken the power! Current Mood: artistic Current Music: Dream Theater: Scenes from a Memory |
| Monday, July 30th, 2001 | |
| 9:35 pm [zombiebird] |
ZOMBIE BIRD PREDICTS!!! The last thing you'll ever do is flush the toilet, because Mall Security planted a bomb on you. |
| Sunday, July 29th, 2001 | |
| 1:48 am [azaelya] |
stumbling always woke up from you stumbling and drunken body and mind a mess of "Yes, please, again." And it's endearing, I hear, how sickly crazy I am delighful, even. Entwined lips, fingers Entwined legs, intentions... you spoke too softly, anyway. What awful beauty we've stumbled upon too late haunting myself again on long grey days made of cotton candy and dreams it sounds kinda pretty when you talk about it like that too bad I'm aching already too bad it hurt just right... "Pain can be sweet sometimes." as I stumbled away from you again. |
| Friday, July 27th, 2001 | |
| 2:04 pm [zombiebird] |
This next one is dedicated to loving families, young long, and hot, sweaty, steamy, animal-like sex. Da Bomb By Zombie Bird Yes, I brought my mom to the prom She wore next to nothing, she danced like da bomb we fast danced, we slow danced, we got down, and we kissed her silky black gown made her hard to resist Post-prom, the party got wild a mother restyled got riled over surrogate child when we got back home, we danced a little more until I helped her prom dress find it's way to the floor It was a wonderful night, ending in sex as my M-O-M turned X-X-X but a relationship? Us have? That's something I can't! Unbeknownst to her, I'm in love with my aunt. |
| 4:17 am [zombiebird] |
This next one is about a relative of mine. Carrot Bird. Carrot Bird By Zombie Bird Carrot Bird is cancer-cured in a tumor nest twined with a pregnancy test forlorn for granny porn carrot bird speaks the good word old man with a limp cold visits a pimp everything is frozen because of the wandering jew perrenial visits from tiny candiru form is borm life reading the Kama Sutra Carrot Bird is yardly-yerd stop doing dope if you don't like rope. The End |
| 4:09 am [zombiebird] |
What follows is sort of a musical-cartoon that I drew while drunk in a philosophy class notebook. It's nothing profound, but I feel that I should put it here... for no real reason. Man's Search For God By Zombie Bird Cat with really big eyes I cant dedicate my life to religion unless God's really a pigeon because a feather will decide whether thou art holy or artn't and if I don't take my Ritalyn then I start gettalin' a little hyperactive and start flat-out fidd-a-lin'. Weird Man with eyes too close to each other What's going on? I really don't know! If God is Sod Maybe my plants will grow but if Satan is a waitin' in my daffodil then it's clear I gotta get out of here and go take my pills Velociraptor I gave a handjob to man # 2 He spoke on Latin and his hair was dyed dark blue my days my days are deep deep new he killed me he killed me I don't know what to do! Flexible Man With Shoes Look at my kicks Yo I bought them at Dick's I think that they are Nike. Hairy Lawn Jockey I am the man in the funny hat when visitors arrive I ask "Who Dat?" and if they don't say who then I break their necks and celebrate with some granny sex. Crying, Salivating Man with no nose I mediate into magical lands of vaseline lakes and flying happy hands I'd leave my house but the feds are waiting outside so I'll just keep on masturbating. Sideways Dinosaur with a tin can as a hat Can on my head it's tin and painted red and green and I lost my big spleen but luckily my liver still can deliver so after I shiver I will drink drink drink The End |
| 12:45 am [azaelya] |
light to dream grey light to blue light over a wave of sound his voice inside of my head flustered and blushing, laughter in my voice "I can hear you smiling." Can he hear me aching? Dawn's a fast woman and she comes quickly when I find my dreams are just late conversations and blue light to grey light "I just closed my eyes and thought of you." I like to meet him in my mind. a soft pseudo reality that accidentally exists without my consent light to light a few beeps and then the end of a moment in time that surrounded eternity "It's been wonderful talking to you." He's always intruiging, anyway. Grey light flooded in, changed to white light soon and I close my eyes but still I see him. white light... to goodnight. |
| Wednesday, July 25th, 2001 | |
| 6:36 pm [azaelya] |
old men and fence posts serve similiar functions of you think about it. |
| Tuesday, July 24th, 2001 | |
| 1:31 am [azaelya] |
remember rewind yourself remember yourself watch and learn your life press the knife to your throat you aren't alive anyway chapped lips without kisses bleed you dry on dark lipstick with strange old men scanning your curves trying to remember where they know you from hungry sick look in their eyes want to taste you want to take you but they don't see you cannot be taken as you have nothing to give nothing anyone sees 'cause your life is full of promises and long pretty lies but the secrets you keep between your lips are sure to fade with one forced kiss. if only you could remember where you are and how you got there. |
| Monday, July 23rd, 2001 | |
| 4:10 am [zombiebird] |
HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT: I have retired my post as leader of The Gah-Movement. It just wasn't me. I wish them all the best. http://www.livejournal.com/~thegahmovement Isn't it time of a new poem? This is also from my freestyling sessions with the nations top rappers. I was thinking of releasing it all as an album. It'll sell a lot... but I still have no clue what we were smoking that night! I actually think we ran out of W and used potatos. Shiva by Zombie Bird I go with the flow to instigate I don't sweat, I glow I glow out stale hate aaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnddddddddd Bitch, I don't believe ya, cuz I can't concieve ya, destroyer you're like Shiva Natarajing through my brain Bitch, I'm going to leave you and cause your family pain driving my insane off the lane explain what you gain from this unromantic strain? I sustain I'm Mundane and I can't entertain but is that any reason for the trauma for the treason to drive me to stab your mama and Jackie Gleason with a sword cane? |
| Sunday, July 22nd, 2001 | |
| 6:10 pm [ihcilon] |
Chilling Trainline A chilling train line travelling on time the black cat girl sacrificed a pentagram along the railroad tracks she ultimately met her bedclothes i reached for a taplight near the sleeping lap the details were continued to the letter amanda was given rough handwriting because drugs were reading time i found living recognition alone is hoping that worlds stand falling asleep choice already made i have two handfulls stand about the last words writing in my sleep haunted by the hellish feline drinking blood of horror fire brimstone god had eternal sleep this alchohol intermixes killers routes only wanted grace since no one is blesed no beliefs will be in good hands An apology for the cat named Hades: a black ritual her best cat sacrificed Athena; a book of her reasons for horrid matter because it was inhuman, she had summoned the deceased thoughts in my mind something that marriage targeted |
| 6:06 pm [ihcilon] |
Asylum-atic asylum; knowing one is that of a religious nightmare maelstrom, i am ate for no reason one of the dillusional vampires had seen it paraniod individual left things as an alcoholic condition -- a demon call it touch, drop minds of faith one pawned my soul ot the devil they fuck off as far as concerned documents |