Lyrics: In My Cold Reflection

Here are some lyrics I wrote for a song several years ago. I like it because I don't use the word "the." For some reason that word bothers me. Enjoy!


In My Cold Reflection

I am a pyre of broken hearts,
Ablaze and unfulfilled,
Ashes of bleak desire,
Stain my filthy flesh.

These broken hearts belong to me,
Casualties of tragedy,
Ignited not by rejection,
But burning hidden ills...

In My Cold Reflection

Come as summer warmth,
Thawing icy veins,
She led me from frozen nether,
‘t where love reigns.

Beaming gold in beauty,
Upon all shadows cast,
Though her light could not vanquish,
Darkness from my past.

In My Cold Reflection

Can I find forgiveness for,
What I’ve done?
Guilt like black clouds conceal,
All sun.

Liar with each embrace,
Betrayer with every kiss,
I am a silver tongued serpent,
Who hates his own hiss.

She who walked as angels soar,
Sought my truths with implore,
Routing me with awful purity,
Recoiling this snake from unity.

How I wished her hand,
I could not defile,
Such perfect innocence,
Or that glowing smile.

In My Cold Reflection

From her grace I ran away,
Rending our hearts like raptor’s prey,
Unknowing of my wrongs,
She’ll move on to inspire new songs.

Back to depths of solitude,
Familiar arms await,
Dragging me beneath,
Sewage of atonement.

To repay heinous debts,
Sacrifices must be paid,
Seeing her cry for me,
Drowns all future days.




SG
:)

I just found out Santa isn't real.

Yeah, I live in a fantasy world. Can you blame me? I want to live in a world where magic is taught to children in extra-dimensional schools, where dragons patrol the skies, where UFOs abduct stupid people, where bigfoot prowls the forests, and where ghosts give us the creeps. Come on, I pay my taxes, is the fantastic too much to ask?

At some point in my early life I came to the realization that the world in my head was a far more interesting place to reside. My imagination is fueled by the fiction I read in books and watch on television. Reality is just so bland.

Sometimes, I foolishly get my hopes up and become excited at the prospect that our world isn't as boring as I once thought. Man will on occasion discover a species, a lost relic, discover a new heavenly body, or otherwise color our existence with something that seems unbelievable. On a personal scale, I can watch the pursuit of such marvels on several television shows. My favorites include: Monster Quest and UFO Hunters on History Channel, and Ghost Hunters on Sci-Fi.

I must preface this and say that I am not a blind believer in ghosts or bigfoot. Unless I can see something with my own eyes I don't believe it exists. I am open to the possibility but until they are recognized by the scientific community and undeniably proved, I remain skeptical. In fact, I enjoy debunking popular amateur ghost videos, such as those seen on youtube, and pursuing down to earth logical reasons for claims of paranormal. Really, it is a serious leap in logic to assume that something experienced is "not of this world." There is always an alternative explanation. That being said, I do watch shows, like Ghost Hunters because it seems like they share my skepticism, yet they search for something still considered un-natural. I watch these shows because I want to believe, but I still want proof.


Have you seen me?

Ghost Hunters is a hugely popular television show on Sc-Fi. It usually brings in the highest rating for its time slot on cable every Wednesday when it broadcasts. One aspect of the show that has lent to its popularity is the down to earth nature of the two co-hosts. They aren't cheesy psychics or over the top spiritual mediums. They are two plumbers from Rhode Island. Two plumbers that hunt ghosts. That makes sense right? Actually, it kind of does, but I will let you research the show and familiarize yourself with it so you can figure that out.

The episodes they air are filmed half a year before they first appear on t.v. and are heavily edited and tricked up with music and narrative voice-overs. Despite this the show is still somewhat believable. At the end of each season they have accumulated a few pieces of potential paranormal evidence. I have never been totally convinced by their findings, and have at times felt they were a little over-eager is making a paranormal conclusion, but they always presented their evidence in a respectable manner. Because of the way they collected, analyzed, and revealed their findings, I always remained hopeful that they may someday find something truly remarkable. Maybe they could convince me the world isn't so boring after all.

For the past three years they have treated their fans to a special live show on Halloween night. Viewers can watch on t.v., or online, and monitor several video feeds simultaneously as the GH team investigates a supposed haunted location. I have watched these specials as well, though they hadn't amounted to much, and found these to be somewhat entertaining. It seems editing was a good idea. On Halloween '08 GH decided to treat us to something new.

Yes, I am a few months behind. I only recently joined the new millennium and acquired cable t.v.. I have always had to watch their shows on DVD. Due to not being up to date with the show I was unaware that a controversy had enveloped the GH universe.

Ignorance is bliss.

A few days ago I got around to watching the live Halloween ‘08 special on DVD. Right from the start I could sense something was amiss. They way the investigators talked to each other, their body language, the camera angles, all of it seemed different. To my horror my gut instinct was correct. Apparently, something had gone horribly awry for confusion, chaos, and cover-ups now constituted this show that I had so loved. I sat back in anguish watching something that was once so great spiral out of control into an abyss of shame.

I'm not here to argue or persuade. Watch the episode in question and you can see the source of my, and thousands of other folks, frustration. GH was busted red handed faking evidence. If you need proof look no further than the infamous "jacket tug."

I was watching my parents tell me Santa Claus wasn't real.

I would like to believe that GH wasn't always this way. I want to believe that they were enticed by the allure of wealth and ratings. It would lessen the sting if I knew that they caved before the might of a powerful corporation, and had to resort to devilry in order to save the show. It would comfort me to hear that the Halloween show was the first and only time evidence was faked. Sadly, as of this writing, lies have been buried by even more lies. The show and the paranormal community are covered in an avalanche of deceit and conspiracy. In the end you can see that the GH crew, who were once respectable and honorable, have been bought and sold. It is said that every man has a price. Nothing they have done before or since has any credibility now.

I would actually rather that the show was cancelled. My former heros would be martyrs now had they walked away and refused the dollar in exchange for honestly and truth. They would have rode triumphant into the sunset. Now I can only imagine how the people who called the GH team looking for help must feel. Think of all the devastated fans. And the children. What a mess.

I will let you do all the research and come to your own conclusions, but I am crushed. Once again I am slapped in the face by a cruel and yawning reality. Man, I own all of their stinking DVD’s, how embarrassing. Be careful when you dare to dream, you may find that the larger fantasy is playing out right before your eyes.



SG

Rorschach & Roll

This afternoon I opened a book and thought to myself, who's life do I want to ruin today? Shortly thereafter I signed up for a Halo Wars video game tournament. Not long afterwards I began to shake from having drunk two 30oz energy drinks.

This month has been a time of transition, or at least, a time of preparation for transition. No, I am not getting a sex-change or slipping into a dissociative identity. I will be moving into a new apartment and dealing with all that implies. I am not one to horde many belongings and thus have spent much time selling, giving away, and trashing unwanted items. This process has given me time to evaluate what is important in life, or rather, what I deem important to myself. Really, I don't know what other personality constructs find important, but whatever.

Apparently, I don't value having a comfortable place to sit. Nor, do I desire a surface to rest a drink. Also, I discovered I have no need of pots, pans, or cutlery. Interesting… I do require a place to store books, DVDs, and video games. So, my new apartment will amount to nothing more than a storage place for plastic cases, bound papers, and one person. Bring on the apocalypse, I am ready.

Obviously my housing, and that which is housed within, aren't of much importance to me. I did get excited today, though, and found myself giving more than a fleeting thought to the prospect of catching a criminal. Exacting justice is a thrilling concept, but since I am neither a policeman or a masked vigilante, I had to settle for perusing a collection of photographs at the local P.D.. The investigation of my robbery and the search for the perps still continues.

I was given a junior-high school year book to flip through. The yearbook represented the student body of the school adjacent to the parking lot I was robbed in. It is likely that the criminals attend, or at one time attended, said junior-high. Only one photo seemed vaguely familiar, and will probably amount to little, but I was struck by something else unrelated. I marveled at how young kids are and how old I am. Each face staring at me was smiling and innocent, or seemingly so, and the thought that any one of these younglings was capable of violent robbery was sickening. Even if I did see the face of my assailants, I wouldn't want to conceive of their villainy. I found myself projecting hope and enthusiasm on these unknown faces. I was projecting myself upon them.

I had to remind myself that the world can be ugly and man can be the instrument of great evil. As I looked at those children I didn't want to believe that this was true. In all honesty, I felt as though I was the one committing evil by looking at the photos. I could choose any face and ruin their lives. Each photo was a big red button linked to mass destruction, akin to shooting fish in a barrel. I being white and the criminals being black I already hold a cruel and unfair advantage over them. I stayed my hand and pushed no buttons. All I gave the police was a little more to go on, as I said before, which will probably just eliminate others from incrimination. The books will close and the criminals are likely to never be found.

One thing can be counted on, though. Man has a tendency for complacency and the making of mistakes. Heck, my self-assuredness and lack of forethought is what got me robbed to begin with. Those who robbed me, though, will do it again to someone else. Hopefully, if they do, they will make a mistake or the victim will be able to help the police more than I have and the criminals will be brought to justice.

After the police station I found an unused computer (mine still rests at the bottom of the ocean), surfed the web, entered a video game tournament, and managed this blogging. Soon I will leave for my job and swim once again in the waters of catatonic workaday. Life snores on.



Forever,
SG