The Iceman .cometh

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About Me

Name:

Out of the night that covers me,
black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance,
my head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
looms but the horror of the shade,
and yet the menace of the years
finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
how charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

Drifter: Wednesday, August 17, 2005

supreme

8 PM. The sky opens up.
Cold, dark, wet...
...wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...
Water sprays...
Things blur...
Something whizzes past...
"MAAAAAWM... it's a bird! ...or is it a plane?"
"No, dear... it's a suicidal maniac."
Absolutely right, mom. Suicidal maniac it is. It's ME.

Heaven hates me, hell doesn't want me... the world can't handle me.
I am Constantly Demented.

FUCK THE RAIN.
FUCK THE ROAD.
FUCK THE COPS.
FUCK THE RULES.
FUCK DEATH.

I AM my machine. My machine is me.
What do we feel?
We feel cold.
We feel wet.
We feel blind.
We feel strong.
We feel untouchable.
We feel alive.
We feel SUPREME.

Wish I was on a kart, not a bike.