Thursday, October 17, 2019

Psyche of a Murderer

ndpthepoetress
: "The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe is about an evil eye, dismemberment, and the repercussions of guilt. What more could a reader ask for! A seemingly short tale with enthralling details, but with an abrupt ending. Still in-between the lines one can perhaps visualize how some people fixate on a person’s flaws instead of their overall significance as a human being. And so the story begins, such imperfection gradually converts into an obsession. The male perpetrator could have only taken that which disturbed him the most. His method of choice however contemplated primarily on the breath of life, possibly giving the readers a clue to the frame of this killer’s own psyche at the time. Hence; the subsequent anatomization, may have been more of a means to prove his own self bloody-right than the ascribed reason. However; he was about to learn that all human life does have value. For guilt has a way of eating into the brain. There truth echoes, beckoning to be heard. Such resonance then can impel a sane man mad while plummeting a supposedly mad man even further into the depths of insanity. And so it is with The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe":

Wednesday, October 02, 2019

Treads of A Murder

In the cloak of darkness the heart pounded detrimentally inside her chest, as if insistent on immediate release; while perspiration dripped from numerous sweat glands she never knew her flesh had. Suddenly, the body she was hauling tumbled to the ground and descended along a steep hill. Panicky, she ran toward the already rotting carcass. In the hurried course her high heels broke as she toppled onto the mossy wet leafed ground, tasting dirt from her moist glossy lips. Her nose was within a few inches of the cadaver, the stench reeked with a combination of dumpster garbage and human sewage waste. Sickeningly nauseated she some how managed to rise, brushing the earths remnants from herself with her now bloodily scratched hands. Then, as if without any forethought whatsoever; she grasped the stiff body and lugged it toward a nearby river bank. Briefly, as if to catch a breath; she sat on the moist ground surrounded by the night. Her fleeting thoughts interrupted abruptly to realize she had not brought a shovel. Frantically she looked around in the moonlight. Broken twigs were scattered amidst the thickening, as she hurriedly threw them aside to at last find a short broken, rigid tree limb. She began to dig furiously right there beneath her feet, until the depth was sufficient. By now the crack of dawn was awakening, worn out she clasped the foul body, dragging it inside the hole. Her bare, scuffed raw hands clumping dirt rapidly over the grave. Content with her undertaking, she staggered toward the river. Achingly she knelt down to fling the icy water onto herself, simultaneously seeming to cleanse some of the filth from her skin and mind. Exhausted, she began the journey toward the hill top where her car was parked. Finally she arrived; fumbling with keys until the door unlocked, she climbed inside. Idle, hands on the wheel; she reflected on the nights’ escapade. If only someone had driven a little slower, perhaps none of this would have happened. Or if someone merely attended to the matter themselves when the incident occurred, than maybe she would not had to taken care of the dreadful situation herself. Still trembling; she shifts her car into drive and pulls onto the blackened road. The muddy rear frame of her car had only one bumper sticker visible: God Bless the animals that cross to and fro, for they know not which way to go.

Written By ©ndpthepoetress (- Jeane Michelle Culp) {copyright #98s7750940}

Tuesday, October 01, 2019

My Pet

I often believe that life has a way of presenting circumstances in our lives as a method of reminding us about lessons yet to be learnt or merely fragmentary reflections of current events. And so such began for me, my pet Gnat. Admittedly; there were several matters bugging me recently, ordeals seemingly beyond my control. And there, every time I came home – to greet me was The Gnat. Persistently pesky little bugger, reluctant to die. Never once did it try to flight upon my food, as if to contentedly fulfill its’ own needs. Instead, this Gnat would seemingly sneak from its’ hidden abode, explicitly when my eyes were fixated else where in deep thought; than zoom! Zoom, whoosh, whiz repeatedly; as I tried in accordance, only to unsuccessfully squish it with my hand or paper. Until at last this became liken a game between us of - dash, clasp, miss. Okay maybe I am taking this a wee far by my next train of thought, however; I swear this ruthless pest would accompany me at work in the good olde days. In the building at my place of employment, we seldom get pestered by the ‘real insects'. It’s not like we have flyswatter decors hanging about in all confined cubicles. No! Yet there ‘it’ was, The Gnat! And so Whoosh, slap, miss! Like a fool whom never learns from mistakes; I continued to take the hurtle bait, only to constantly get the same results - missed! Blasted rascal! Ok, if this pest was not the same from my home, than please explain how one day the annoyer was in my car, when I got off work! The Gnat – there to greet me in my auto, as if waiting for a free ride home from ‘its’ weary day of play. Ok I hear you. Gnats are massively every where! I have finally lost it. I am bugging out! This Gnat has ultimately succeeded - if only to drive me batty! Well today, or maybe it has been a few days now, anyhow; I am sadden to say, I lost my Pesky pet. No, I did not kill The Gnat. I recon ‘it’ has gone to pester someone else or has died of starvation – somewhere between my home and the open road. Or at worse, has become someones’ windshield muck. Just, I’m certain The Gnat did not leave of its own accord; as there are still plenty of recent tribulations tugging at my heart strings and playing intensely on my mind. Yet, sadly gone is The Gnat. Now I can’t help but wonder if I had ever succeeded in squishing ‘it’, would I have felt relieved or remorse. Perhaps we all need such a Pest, I mean Pet in our lives at times. Something tiny, requiring minimal upkeep; just something small enough to keep the mind occupied on other things, if but for a minute - so that the raw obvious doesn’t continuously eat us alive from the inside out, like an introverted vulture. Therefore; here’s wishing Gnats in your life! May you go batty as bed bugs, if but for a fleeting moment! Zoom, whoosh, whiz!



Dragonball Z - Eating Me Away


SKILLET

"Eating Me Away"

It's eating me away
I said to God
It's rotting in my mind
It's like a cancer
Is there anything, anything at all to numb the nothingness
I need a reason to breathe
It's eating me away

Yeah, yeah....

It's eating me away
It nibbles at my brain
The question of my existence
And the matter of pain
I shake my fist, I shake my fist
At the cosmos and my insignificance
I need a reason to breathe
It's eating me away

[CHORUS:]
Save me from my rage
And my humanity
I'm more nothing than being
Is this my legacy
Feel it eating me away
Yeah, yeah.....

All that I am, all that I want, all that I lack
Come on and save me
All that I am, all that I want, all that I lack
Come on and save me

[CHORUS]

All that I am, all that I want, all that I lack
Come on and save me
All that I am, all that I want, all that I lack
Come on and save me

It's eating me away

[CHORUS]

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