Pages updated on the Dallas Music Wiki, hosted by Digital Darkness http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/Homepage 33.212203-96.675226 Another thing I wrote years ago. With murderous intentions, I think of all the people that have been unkind to me. I think how nice it would be to reward their actions with a living hell. I'd like to make every second of their pathetic little lives unbearable, watch as they squirm in their agony. Watch them twist and try to break free of the vice that squeezes them. The more they struggle the worse I'd make it. Flesh screaming from the pain, mind in turmoil from its flesh being burned away. Bodies broken, mangled, defaced, bent into most unnatural positions. But no, physical pain would be an easy way out for them. I must destroy what they love, defile what they hold sacred, and ridicule the beliefs that are the foundation of their very being. I must make them feel the loneliness, despair, anguish, and fear that I have felt. Their willpower with blow away like dust in the wind, and they will be broken. Nothing but a shell of a human. Hearts broken, will to live gone. Then they will realize their error, but it will be too late. Judgment will be made on what is left of what once might have laughingly been called a soul. Their heart, blackened by the hate and anger, will show the marks of hellspawn, and they will burn for eternity, an eternity of repeating past mistakes, and having their actions pointed back at them. They will learn, but far too late, for they have become worse than those they abused. People will curse them in many tongues, and their memories will be defiled and will become parables told to children, dire warnings of what they could become, what will happen to them. Revenge will be sweet, and it will be mine. I will bathe in its coolness, and feel its juices soak into the wounds caused by them. Revenge will be sweet and it will be mine! http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/xG8F1zqXOFY/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/45/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/45/?from=rss omni is the administrator and creator of this site http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/VBrTfsNw8Jk/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/597/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/597/?from=rss Lately I've been posting a lot of my old writings (Lonely Thoughts, Breathing in Solitude, Thinking Alone, Crashing Into Myself, Flying Mortality). There are a few reasons why I'm posting something that I wrote back in '97 and '98: To prove to myself how much I have grown as a writer To show to myself how much I have matured as a person Few people have read that stuff, and someone might want to The main reason, though, is that I wrote most of it while in California. I was lonely and depressed for most of the three months that I was there. It was not an enjoyable experience. I had no one to talk to, so I wrote. A lot. And then I wrote some more. Now, I'm going back to California almost a decade later. I want to have the previous experience fresh in my mind for comparison purposes. Tomorrow morning I fly out to California to move into corporate temporary housing. My wife is not coming until the next weekend, when she and Scriptlet will drive out to join me. That means I'm going to be without my family for over a week. I think I'll be alright, since I start my shiny new job on Tuesday. It looks like Google is a great place to work, and I imagine that the next week will be extremely busy and exhausting. I keep trying to think of it as a great adventure. As a military brat, I'm not afraid of moving. I've been moving around all of my life. I've lived in the Dallas area for far too long. I came to college here in '98, so this is the longest I can lived in the same state. Sure, I moved around in Denton and then moved to McKinney, but I didn't really have to say goodbye to any friends. I'm pretty sure that saying goodbye this time will be easier, since I have so many ways of keeping in contact with them, from my cell phone (I'm not changing my number), to email, to Facebook and that other crappy social network. http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/wPNKGNTAw3U/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/44/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/44/?from=rss More depressing writings from years ago: A longing that permeates the mind, body, and soul, the want of possessions lost torture an already hurting person. Constant reminders in everything seen rub salt in the woulds. Home and happiness far enough away to not exist, simple survival becomes the only goal. As empty hours stack up intoxication from loneliness tears at a mind's sharpness. Minutes become days, hours months, days a time unfathomable. Times and distances become irrelevant and misunderstood by a grieving mind. Horrific images fill a dreamscape of what could be, might be. Out of touch, out of reality, a soul cries for a time now lost, memories fading to black and white, becoming less sharp with time, until they blur beyond comprehension, and begin to mix with the false reality the mind creates for the blank spaces. Photographs become a tenuous link to times barely remembered. Memories disappear as tears run down a saddened face, evaporating into the winds of time. Hands of the mind reach out, fingers outstretched, straining for one more chance at being there, wherever there is. But then where there is loses shape, and the longing is for something, but the mind can't remember what it wants, and is further saddened. Everything is nothing, and the mind loses its last something as it slides into darkness, leaving the body an empty shell, a car without a driver, careening through life. http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/TaN4wURv_9A/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/43/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/43/?from=rss Boy Caught Dream (formerly Verum) is a five piece Dallas alternative rock band http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/zqPI9818nNI/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/575/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/575/?from=rss Expressing love to a piano player... http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/fbZu6MLUPuo/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/604/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/604/?from=rss Beforethefall is a rock/pop-punk epidemic from Arlington, TX http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/WtmNxTomXzg/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/247/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/247/?from=rss Written many moons ago. A sudden catharsis of emotion, as the lungs deplete their store of air. A cry of anguish, a sob of sadness, a scream of loneliness. An outward breath of hot air, taking with it a plethora of feelings, relief and calm as fresh cool air is inhaled. The quiet after a scream calms the soul, quieting the rage, and cooling the fire of anger that burns in the gut. A sigh of loneliness attempts to distract the mind from thinking. Ignore thinking, concentrate on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Work on slowing it, feel the air enter and leave. Stop breathing, just for a second, and the thoughts start up again. The mind is a cell, and keeping it asleep keeps it docile and controllable. Waste time, but don't think. When you think, you can't know what thoughts will come. Starting from a nice thought, the insanity of an uncontrolled mind corrupts it into something sinister. A baby's breath at first becomes a hurricane, destroying all that stands in its path. Bunkers built carefully to keep memories or emotions at bay break open, releasing their contents grown spoiled and rotten through time. From the depths of the pit of consciousness comes thoughts unmentionable, prompting a shudder from the flesh tortured by the dementia of a mind left to its own devices. A tortured mind deludes and yet amuses itself with depraved fantasies and maniacal plans. Death and destruction, pain and suffering, hate and anger become central topics, as morals and sympathy decay. Longing for a gentle release from sanity, instead caught teetering on the brink between fantasy and reality, a mind suffers, wondering what is real and what are illusions. An allusion of sanity is shown a mere wish, while terrible demons become real, and gnaw on the soul, unraveling its simple fabric, taking out the stitches that hold it together. Strings snap loose, throwing thoughts into disarray, until there is nothing left, and the body looses what controlling humanity it once had, as its face contorts into a pale mockery of a human figure. http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/GpLxr2_n4NA/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/42/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/42/?from=rss The Feds are a rock band from Dallas, TX http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/_Tyh74Yc-jw/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/92/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/92/?from=rss A Touch of Panic is a CD released by Dallas-based band 'The Feds' http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DallasMusicWiki/~3/ul-uSR2NMRE/ http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/603/?from=rss http://www.digitaldarkness.com/view/page/603/?from=rss