Warmonger in Therapy: FORMALDEHYDE

Wow, this week has been rough. It has been purely entertaining whilst being extremely painful. Recently i had surgery after getting beaten up by some kid, i guess those Bruce Lee movies i watched back with my grandma didn’t help to much. I had a broken nose, torn labrum, and a bad dislocation. So needless to say it kinda hurt. But your Warmonger and Humble Narrator is ok.

It has made it extremely difficult to write though, because usually i would hand write everything. I’d buy at least twenty high quality pens per month because i’d always write notes and write down everything else as well. The new book would be handwritten but i can’t do it as my injured arm is my right, and i’m right handed. The one positive is that we can use some of that excess pen money to go grocery shopping.

But on a serious note i’m worried about how this is going to work out, but i know it will eventually work. I’ve had a hard life and it’s made me love everyone around me. I could meet someone on XBOX and go the extra mile to try and help them, i care about a lot of people. Sometimes i come across as pompous and as a bit of an ass. And as you can see from my poems i dont exactly believe in god, because first i have to believe in myself. Things have worked out so far, and i always have to remember that.

More updates soon!

Oh and i almost forgot, ladies and gents, a bunch of short stories will be coming out very soon. I hope you enjoy them. Also i’ll be releasing a few poems again just so everyone can see them. Thanks so much!

WARMONGER IN THERAPY: Nothing Last’s Forever

































Learned tonight that it’s rare that something lasts forever, and that Life is just a cruel game. It’s why some of us resort to Metal and Hardcore music, because it’s a mild obscenity to the world that you can throw up. I don’t want to hear about love, and sex and kissing, all that bullshit. Like come on, where is the cutting, the hate, throw a little violence. Life isn’t fun, life is a bad joke that has a fucked up punchline.

Tonight is a turning point in the Warmonger in Therapy. I decided that i may not have as many close allies as i thought before, which is a perfect background to become an author. A lot of people highly doubt my ability to write let alone publish three books in less then a year. They doubt my skill, my resources and my ability to even stay alive, luckily i actually quite enjoyed THE ARTIST so i’ve become deaf to the bullshit. Lot’s of bullshit, or bollocks, i can’t use that word but i wish i could.

Not to say that I’m scared for the future but I’m far more cynical, as of tonight everything i thought was driven purely in the white snow has crashed while riding through the smog. Worst of all it crashed in a nasty pond full of regret, anger and fear. I’m fearful for a lot of things, i’ll make sure you guys get to know your humble narrator far better as the moments pass. Forget the poetry, i’m going to cut straight to the chase. There is nothing better for writing then dread, pain and then those moments when you are shocked by a certain event. Right now i’m shocked by a certain event so I decided to write

I’m a masochist, not literally. I haven’t gotten to the point where Bruce Willis needs to rescue me from Zed or Kakihara, but i enjoy pain in an emotional capacity. It makes life far more interesting, rather then moseying around a liberal arts facility for four years, fornicating and drinking cheap beer, i’d rather adventure into the depths of the mind for a couple of years. I’ve given myself two years to explore the pain and to see how far it can take me.

After all this is Warmonger, the Plight and the Fury, not the fairytales of peace, love and virtue. Please prepare yourself for a bumpy ride, because i’m not by any means afraid to drive through the smog. Let’s Hit It