darkblogblog-blog

[darkblogblog-blog]

Are we so pathetic that an updated iPhone is what excites us?

The world we live in today is so focused on virtual that reality is becoming so distant in its nature.

What’s your experience with technology, and how do you feel it’s destroyed you?

[darkblogblog-blog]

I guess you could say im not a cold stoned soldier. I try to help those who help themselves.

Fifteen stories doesn’t seem so high off the ground until you’re dangling there with only your sweaty palms holding you aloof. Slowly losing your grip, finger tip by finger tip. She fell that night. She fell fifteen stories, after she decided she made a big mistake, and tried saving her soul.

I’m death. I’ve seen tragic but shit, claiming a life that regrets to be claimed. That’s fucking tragic. I helped her fall to the ground, and I tried carrying her down in the least demonic and graphic way as possible, but speed versus velocity makes a human skull look like scrambled eggs no matter how gracefully you land.

[darkblogblog-blog]

I had been running the same route with my golden retriever for months. Everyday at the same time I would pass by this old vietnam veteran who loved my dog. At the time it seemed as though that was the biggest highlight of his day. I would stop and say hi, talk to him for a little while, and he would tell me all sorts of stories. His loneliness always lingered with his long stories that would be dragged out for expanded amounts of time. 

A part of me really felt for this guy. I knew his wife had passed away years ago...I know that because obviously he told me, like many other personal things that happened in his life. 

The day he did it...well doc, I didn’t know it was on his agenda, but had I known I wouldn’t have reversed my route. I wouldn’t have switched it up. 

I did the same route, just backwards that morning. I went the reverse direction because I had some stuff I wanted to get done that day, and I just didn’t have the spare time to stop and talk. That’s why I did it.

As I came around the corner closest to his home, I heard one loud shotgun shot. Then I heard a neighbor scream and run towards his back deck. Instinctively I knew something was off and I too started running for his back deck.

That’s when I saw him...There was brain matter everywhere. His head doc, his head was being held on by a sliver of muscle and skin. His bare foot still rapped around the shot gun...

If I had just done my normal route and wasn’t such a asshole, he probably would be here today, because it was like clockwork. He probably thought I wasn’t going for a run that day, and instantly felt abandoned. 

I feel responsible for his death.