hours before sunrise

A drop of wine
so red and fine
down it drops
bearing hopes
feeling no
seeing no
hearing no
evil.

A shade of red
a book unread
somewhat old
and yet untold
the stories in
the tellings in
the wisdom in
a waste.

A feather flies
a crow now dies
plummage black
o'er the shack
so loud a cry
so fine a cry
so young a cry
it's gone.

A cloud of white
a peaceful sight
the morning comes
over the slums
a coming red
a looming red
a tasteful red
so bright.

O'er the world
so much so old
the days that pass
have nights to catch
and hasty so
and surely so
and coming thus
tomorrow.

Synentefksh gia thn ypertath 8esh tou ahdio-malaka twn SCBotched

shmera ola einai skata. ola omws. ksypnaw to prwi afhnwtntas ena ygro klanhdi, mono kai mono san proeidophoish gia to megalo xezmentin pou 8a exwna meta sthn kahmenh toualeta. me adhsophth orgh eriksa thn anierh katadikh mou (koinws skatoulokourada) sthn krya porselanh, pou an eixe matia 8a dakryze toso apo pono, oso apo th myrwdia, th vrwma kai thn treisodia, kai oso gia tis melw atakes pou akougontan apo apenatni. argotera h mera mou kylhse skata, sxedon oso arga oso mia kourada glystraei sthn trypa enos dyskoiliou kinezou pou exei faei treis merides ryzi. eixate pote thn ais8hsh oti ola sas pane skata? egw thn exw syxna. sthn toualeta. me tsirlipipi. ekei na deis skato pou paei. opws kai na xei, eprepe na exw kapoia kwlo-stoixeia, kapoia apodhksh gia ayth th skatokouradoa8lia mera. gi ayto loipon, to anevasa kai gw san mikro skat-ee... syggnwmh, paidi, sto esysolhnas. kai oriste h klanoskatisia mera mou : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VuqyZC2haBI&feature=player_profilepage

Concerning ASD - the Bible of Spam.

There is one and only one ASD.
Those that doubt the ASD will be ASDed anew.
Those that do not follow the ASD will with no doubt be ASDed.
There is one ASD, one Spamm and one SpASD, and all is one in ASD.
5. Thus spake ASDreus, and thus it should have will often will used to be.
ASD.
Spammoth created the ASD and all that is ASDfull.
Beware of Unholy ASD, thus commandes Spammoth unto the Spammers.
And Lo, all Unholy ASD was ASDed anew.
10.And Lo, all Spammers were now embraced by ASD.
Spammoth laid the secrets of eternal ASD upon the top of mount Lal,
And so the people had hope of ASD.
There is only one true prophet of ASD and his name is Andreus.
Correction, there are two true prophets of ASD. Andreus eated one tho.
15.And Lo, he was pleased.
One day upon spamming and flamming and forwarding, Andreus held a vision
Of Spammoth and his might and his righteous ASD.
Andreus visioned of a Holy Word Aflame, and the Word was Bird.
And Lo, Bird's ye word.
20.Andreus accepted the divine and spammful quest he was given,
And thus Asdended onto ye Holy Mountain of Lal in search of Holy Words
Three,
ASD, Lel, Oooogamamanomalaka.
His journey did last long, and he did eat half the Holy Mountain.
25.Uponeth Ye top of the Holy Mountain of Lal, Spammoth spake unto Andreus.
And Spammoth spake thus:
"ASD."
And Andreus said:
"Que pasa?"
30.And Spammoth spake again:
"In Spamm you are strong.
You shall be my Announcer.
You shall be my Sage.
You shall be my Delilah, some nights,
35.And you shall dress in pretty dresses.
From now on, your name shall be one of power.
And your name shall be ASDreus.
And you shall be my Prophet of ASD.
Speak, and the world will be ASDed.
40.Don't speak, and the world will think you're akshully clever.
You shall spamm.
You shall ASD.
You shall devour massive quantities of food.
You shall teach ASD to the masses.
45.Art there any questioneth?"
ASDreus sat and thunk upon the top of Lal.
He sat there for days and nights three,
Thinking or at least pretending he was thinking.
At the sundrise of the Fourth day, he spake:
50."Will There Be Souvlaki and Burgers?"
And Spammoth Facepalmed.
And the Planets cried with the loudness of his divine,
Epic,
And world shattering Facepalm.
55.And ASDreus doth spake yet again:
"I'll take that as an 'aye'."
Thus it was ASDed, thus it shall be.
And Lo, Spammoth did a *nod*.
And Lo, ASDreus Descended from Lal.
60.And Lo, He teacheth ye worlde of Spamm and ASD and Lel and Oooogamamanomalaka.
Of his greatest disciples were Alexandriniosligoallakati.
ASDreus did not like that name.
And ASDreus spake unto That Guy with Ye long NAme:
"Dude, Thy name shall now on be AlexASDros.
65.I think you Should Bring ASD to where I can not,
Or am too bored to go.
Therefore, you shall be
AlexASDros, Bringer of ASD."
To that, AlexASDros did reply most vividly:
70."*shrug*."
Thus it was asd asd, thus asd asd asd.


(missing pages... we did our best to find the rest of those pages from the Bible of Asdful ASdings, but the work continues in what appears to be a late, apocalyptic prophecy of this world. See below.)

667."Be careful, lest I smite thee!"
To which QuetzASDcoatl replied:
"Your smite is nothing compaired to ASD.
WAtch, gaze upon, Mite-mite, Look,
Asd I shall show you true spam.
101.Pure spamm."
And lo, true spamm it was.
For upon union of ASDreus
Avatar of Spammoth and Prophet of ASD,
AlexASDrus the no-so-gret-akshully,
677.Bringer of ASD and Devourer of Nom,
QuetzASDcoatl the SPammful Seeker,
Manifester of ASD and LoL,
There shall be ASDpocalypse.
There shall be grate catASDtrophies.
683.There shall be LOLcusts.
There shall be ASDful Tides.
There shall be flying LOLruses.
There shall be no Cheezburger.
There shall be no buckit.
688.There shall be PedoBear.
There shall be LOLies.
There shall be no salvation from ASD.
All that was, shall be ASDed.
Nought will stand, for all shall Rofl.
1337.Holy Crapcakes I forgot about the chicken nuggets.
There shall be seas of Beer.
There shall be DAys and nights of no rain, only peeing sky dwarvs.
There shall be only one!
There shall be no encore.
700.There shall be no freebird.
Ever.
And through strange ASD,
Even spamm may be tainted
And all that is holy
705.Shall be ASDed unto distrakshon.


(more pages missing. Also we think that 1337 was added later by someone else than the original author, at some time adter the publication or at least writing of the Bible of Asdful ASDings. The search for the rest continues...)

The 300 Students

[Enter student, Teachers 1 and 2]
Student: "Show me to the schoolmaster. I bring words from the whole school."
Teacher #1: "I dunno, our schoolmaster is a pretty bored man."
Teacher #2: "And he got a caffeine addiction, student. Could we offer you a Filter coffee?"
Student: "Greek teacher humor. It's in you all. Be afraid, The schools will be filled with bums. Only the word of your schoolmaster can save it.
Teacher #1: "You look a lil' better than all those other gits. Maybe we should tell his majesty the king fatso."
Teacher #2: "Yeah, I suppose we don't want anyone to start throwing molotovs or anything."
[Exit Teachers 1 and 2]

[Enter King Fatso, Schoolmaster]
King Fatso, Schoolmaster: "Experience and Education? You came all the way from Classroom 13 for Experience and Education? Don't be an idiot, don't be stupid. You can't afford neither now that there are private schools everywhere."
Student: "A force of wanna-be communists and wanna-be anarchists has assembled--So few, they cant even keep a
school locked up properly. Their number so little, they could live on a single bottle of water. All the other
students require is a modest offering: Of Experience, and Education. A simple token of the School's
submission to the will of its students and other kid-rodents."
King Fatso, Schoolmaster: "Hm. That's a bit of a problem. Rumour has it the police already took your banner down. And
if those boy-lovers found that kind of nerve... After all we teachers have our little position and jobs in the
state schools to consider. Still I really wanna be rude. If there is a diplomatic way to handle this, you can shove it where
the sun don't shine."
Student: "Choose your next words carefully."
[Exit Student, King Fatso, Schoolmaster]

[Fatso takes the Student in front the school's dark and creepy storage room which smells of over-used athletic shoes]
King Fatso, Schoolmaster: "Of course. Not. It's obvious. The answer's is right in front of me. Which means right at
your back. But don't look. Seriously."
[Fatso raises his Pen Of Detention towards the Student]
"Experience and Education. You'll find both down there. And it won't be pretty, I assure you."
Student: "Madman! You're a madman! And a bully! And a slut! No man-- or woman or blob, I really dunno what you are-- No
man threatens a student!"
[The student looks behind him and stands startled]
"This is blasphemy to the educational system and a million other things I don't have the time to mention because you're gonna kick
me! This is Madness!
King Fatso, Schoolmaster: Madness? THIS! IS! THE GREEK PUBLIC SCHOOL SYSTEEEEM!!
[Fatso kicks the Student and condemns him to an abbys of dirty socks and a lifetime of part-time jobs]
[Exit Fatso]

Dance

Dance, dance, don't ever stop,
And I shall dance with thee till dead I do drop

For Love be the tune, as we sway on the moon,
My heart, it is beating, so fast and so soon

Be it thy grace, that blesses me so,
Or be it the pace, the one we both know?

Passionate eyes, we walk on the skies,
All else has no meaning, no matter, no size

Thy hands as I hold, years and ages grow old,
Eternal our love, a promise of gold

I love thee, I cry, as our lips draw nigh,
A gentle exchange, a breath and a sigh

For do I not breathe, if thou do so too?
Or am I alive, without thy view?

Clouds are the way, together we stay,
My heart and thee, I shall never betray

Ne'er get down, ne'er a frown,
We will dance up here till morrow come round

I love thee my dear, have you no fear,
Ne'er before happiness has brought me a tear.

And part we shall not, by speech or by rot,
Hands held together, what fate has wrought.

The Glass is a Lie.

Picture a glass of water, filled to the half. A simple glass, just water in it.
Is the glass half full? Or is it half empty?
Mhm.
So I see.
But what, pray, would happen, if you took the glass of water and threw it on a wall?
Would that not fill this inanimate and dull object into a new, little world of motion,
vigor, meaning, price, danger, flavour, color and flair?
Now can you tell me if the glass is half full or half empty?
Should we try again then?

Picture it. Picture a solid, white concrete wall. Now pictute a glass of water thrown at it, as time slows down to gaze upon it. Picture the glass cracking, slowly, the sound of a star exploding, as continents and seas are born in one moment and are dead in the next. Imagine those cracks, those seas and rivers, breaking, spreading, magnificently twisting and turning towards all directions while the water overflows in a dance of maddening and liquid grace, pulled from all directions while trying to be thrown to all the opposite ones. Picture the glass as it jumps against the wall and divides into those smaller, crystal stars which now fly and spray towards the air and the floor, all in an unthinking, chaotic stratagem of covering as much unexplored aether as every little drop of a solid rainbow can. Picture the water turning into a rain of color and following the shards of glass like children chasing each other, playing tag. Some drops of water meet other shards and embrace, dragged down to the ground faster, while others follow their own paths toward the unknown of the floor. Picture it all. A glistening, foggy cloud of water and glass, staying there for merely a fraction of a moment, hanging in the air like the night stars of a sky. And now time comes back from its frozen state and the cloud crashes into the ground, a small pool of water, momentarily dripping towards the ceiling before gravity applies fully. Waves upon waves of little bits of glass rolling to all directions.
Picture that final, silent, unmoving pool of glass and water.

Is the glass half full or is it half empty?

Thought so.
Good evening.

A matter of opinion

People have never asked me whether or not I like love songs, ballads, or other similar types, or kinds of music.
Never.
I wonder, does everyone assume you like them? Or do they automatically assume you do not? Or maybe they don't care. I've yet to see a man or woman that has not admitted tears flowing free as a lazy waterfall when they heard or hear a certain song. Or two.
That, of course happens, for reasons that suit best to the subjects.
Ah, correction. People.
A sad song about loss of love appeals to someone who has lost someone they loved. Lost, as in 'someone died', 'someone stopped loving me', 'someone never loved me at all', or 'someone I love never really looked at me'. Of course, that has to do with how the person feels about the more romantic or passionate sides of their life.
A song that is bittersweet and praises the other member of a relationship, an affair or a love bond usually seems befitting in the eyes and heart of of someone who is in love or obsessed with their partner or lover.
A ballad that reminds of the times of old, or maybe the loves of old, is to the ears of someone nostalgic what food is to an empty growling stomach.
Even a person without the aforementioned attributes would appreciate a song that reminded them of their lover or they and their lover's bond, condition, status, or state as a couple or pair.
No one ever asked me whether or not I like love songs. Nor sad love songs. Love songs of anger and bitter spit on the face of betrayal of heart. I never asked them to ask me, I suppose.
I... I like them. But I don't like them.
All those kinds of songs, all this music that is made from lovers to lovers, I have a weird connection to them. I have been the betrayed heart. I have been the abandoner of the heart. I've been the one and only half of one and only half of a heart. I have been certain of a second half of a heart. I have been a full heart. I have been a dissatisfied heart. I have been full yet again. So far, I have not yet inherited the previous titles again, nor do i think, hope, expect, or even dare to imagine me ever doing so from now on. True, time folds hands on the eyes of mysteries, and no one but time can be certain of what is to come, but certainty's roots dig well and establish their base even better.
I've heard representatives of those songs, of those styles, of those emotions. Not few were the times when my throat grew sore, my eyes wet and red, my chest an empty fleshbag of burning loss or a furious engine of passion.
Yes.
I have heard the call many, many times. As many as I have sounded the call myself, I expect.
Should I not feel connected to those songs? Should they hold no meaning for me? Should I not experience their musical magnificence and the liberation tears grant you after the hour? It is not so, I am assured it is not a matter of 'should' or 'must'. It is more of a matter of 'choose to' or 'will or not to'.
The reason for that attitude of mine could be cut down into many many more reasons, smaller, all part of the single, greater one.
I shall pose some questions.
If you love someone, and you know that you truly love them, do you actually need assurance?
Or if you lost someone and feel awful by that state, why do you need to stay in that land of empty sighs?
If you miss someone, should you not practically do something about it, that being forgetting about them, carrying on, or even trying to contact them again?
In all cases, I deem that any accompanying songs to those mental states are unnecessary, if not worsening over the condition, be it initially good or bad or even neutral.
I know many of you would disagree with what I am about to confess.
I do not need a love song that calls my lover a goddess to know that she is one. If I await a song to get me that message, I am lost.
I do not need a song of loss to be my friend, nor a shoulder to cry on, for I have others that care, and I shall find another who cares more. If I bask in the drama of loss, I am lost myself.
I do not need a song to make me feel good or bad about the one I love. It clouds my judgment and affects me and the ways in which I view, feel and perceive the one I love. If I lose the stability of the ways I love, respect and act towards the one I love, I am lost.
Surely, some people would haughtilly argue that they do not need the songs to tell them all those things, that they already know them and that they just like the songs. Of course, the reasons they like them is hidden in all those ' I do not need-'. Also, if they do not need the songs, and it only appeals to their ears, then what I claim is right, and I got you to admit that you do not need all this.
I wonder, Isn't the lack of flavor what makes you want flavor in something?
Flavor, as in Feeling? Substituting for something else?
Songs, as in Feeling of Feelings? Substituting for something else?
Ah.
I choose not to care about any love song. There are few that appeal to me, but I would rather listen to something other than them, actually. If my words are to be trusted, I need no augmentation when it comes to the feelings I hold most dear towards the one love. Nor need I reminders of love, loss, passion, company or any of such states, feelings and matters. I hold my ears to the heart of my beloved. There, there is the sweetest music of the worlds. Strange.. One would think that such honorable and magnificent music would come from many organs, yet this one, single as it is, produces such a wonder.
I am in no way calling you fools. I am in no way trying to convince you that what you do is foul, or that what I do is best and more honest.
I am simply trying to show you another way, one that perhaps might get you someplace farther away from what you have perceived as normal so far, replacing normal with mundane,
I cannot tell you to listen to your hearts. I can tell you to listen to the heart of he or her that bears the heart that you love. It is no command, no wish, no need, no desire that the heart gives you. Yet listen to it if you will, and you shall surely know what to do and what path or road to follow.
Your heart is where your loved one's heart is.
Good evening.