(The) Path of Survival

“NOW this is the Path of Survival; A Path forlorn; born from within.
Dost matter not what path unravels;  dost matter not where it begins.

To fringes of Faulan, to Oceans Untold; the Path of Survival forever unfolds –
Now this is the Path of Survival hereon; survive and let die ‘fore the Path is foregone.

…………

(to be continued.)

 

~ Wolfgang Matthews

   

Post-scripture: For those unaware, this poem draws inspiration from another poem called The Law for the Wolves by Rudyard Kipling. He’s known for some neat stuff you might know about such as The Jungle Book, eh 90’s babers?  Anyways, like all great things, this will be continued and built upon to one day reflect the length and (hopefully) greatness by which the original expresses. As such, there is more to the Path of Survival than meets the macbook. I’m looking forward to sharing more. Au revoir !

Wednesday/Winsday Wise Words #1 – Grow

WED-NES-DAY

     Of all the people in the world speaking English, I feel a majority of us secretly pronounced ‘Wednesday’ in a similar manor to how it is shown above in the massive bold print I placed up there^ strictly for this example by which I just exemplified. Am I right? Sure.

     Well, while casually learning to read in the waiting room of my mother’s womb, I had a tendency to do that kind of spelling trick with virtually every word I read and that same tendency has continued up to this day. I’m doing it right meow. But the only word I won’t allow myself to phonetically sound out is Wednesday. Why, do you ask?

“Why, Dean, do you submit yourself to such proper, yet blasphemic standards in speech?!”
– Undisclosed reader

Mm. Well I shall tell you my reader of utmost nondisclosure. I look at Wednesday as Winsday, therefore, I choose to pronounce it as such. It’s the day fit for winning. The day for taking that extra effort to surpass the hump in the week. We all know life is mostly shit, but its those atom-sized parts of life that aren’t shit that gives us cause to get out of bed in the AM. Everyone’s parts-of-life are different and no one is here to judge.

They could be anything from music to a significant other to intense drug binges to finally landing that big fish. Broad, general things like The Cincinnati Reds winning or deciphering that puzzle you’ve been stuck on all week. Specific things like hugging that one special dog at home or those two Oreos with a glass of poorly mixed chocolate milk (using powder of course. No syrup nonsense in this house, no sir) right before bed. New shoes. Old photos. Fast cars. Slow jams. Everyone’s parts-of-life are different.

The lesson I’m learning ya is this. As we’re living life day to day, trying to keep that inner flame alive, working to get over that hump, shit will undoubtedly hit the fan at one point or another. It might even happen on a Winsday. All the same, herein this moment lies our opportunity to resist the urge of looking back down into the valley of the past. What happens will happen and will have happened alike. Chew on it for a minute. Swallow it. Take the time to consider those special parts-of-life and use them as ego-fuel to surpass the hump, make it through Winsday, and grow as a person, because that’s all we can really do as we surpass the humps and mountains of Life: Grow.

So grow.

~ Wolfgang Matthews

 

 

 

 

Post-scripture:2001
1) blasphemic isn’t even a word, but it sounds sexy so it stays.

2) Happy Hump Day, folks !

3) Do your earballs a favor today and click the link below. It’ll take ya to Youtube.

Fixations by Gardens & Villa 

Tribute to Destiny – The Myth of the Monte Carlo

Given that I spend a fair share of my free time playing Destiny, I find it necessary to make a post or two from time to time in homage to the game. Tonight’s will be short, sweet, simple. I spend about 3/4 of my time as an Awoken Gunslinging Hunter whilst playing Destiny, therefore, I’ll be sure to make a nod to her a time or two.


The Myth of the Monte Carlo

     Entry 52 – Only 6 shells left in the Regulator. No ammo in the reserves. Looks like it’ll be nothing but the Light and M. Leopold to guide me now…just gotta make it to the heart of the Dead Zone and put an end to this damned Cult – thrice and for all.

52 hours prior

Entry 1 – Should’ve known better. Should’ve swallowed my pride and found a few Defenders to come along as insurance. Hell, I would’ve known this whole gig was a farce to begin with, ‘specially after getting my Sparrow sniped right out from under me, had I not been so fixated on the myth of the Monte Carlo.

     Either way, there’s no mistake that me being shot at was no mistake. Just wish I’d have seen where the bullet even came from. What I can’t seem to wrap my head around is why a Guardian would call for me this far outta The City just to have me stranded. I do know one thing – I’m gonna need to stay on my toes and keep my head onna swivel – Question everything and overlook nothing. Aha ha. At least I’ve got my Knucklehead Radar.

~ Wolfgang Matthews

 

Post-scripture:

The Generic Hunter
This is just a quick visualization tool for those that don’t know what Destiny is, so as to see what a typical Hunter might look like.

A Moment on Mattè

The fauna and wildlife of Mattè isn’t entirely unlike our own planet Earth. It has trees and birds and seas and giant snake-squid creatures called Sarongea also. The sky is  blue as most grasses are green while the air is transparent and clean in between. Had humanity waited some 50,000 more years to begin destroying our own planet, she might look a bit like Mattè – but just a bit.

The deserts here are fierce and grand, covering nearly 50% of one of the three continents in the known world. The mountains are high, reaching altitudes yet to be discovered by Ienity- the generally human-esque race of Mattè. Ienity is also responsible for the creation of known history itself, as before they came, before the Great Cataclysm itself, history is unknown and untold. At least, thats what is apparent anyways: who knows what might lie deep beneath the vast sandlands – or what is hidden, forgotten, within the passages of all those mountain peaks lining The Gorge and The Ring alike. Who knows?

~ Wolfgang Matthews

Koala Tees

I am curious as to whether or not the ominous “they” makes tee shirts for koala bears. As we all know, this would beg the question of whether or not the tee shirts are quality – because if so, one would have the obligation to make the statement of, “Whewee, that’s quite the quality koala tee.” It is known.

All good things come in 3’s

I confess, I fail you all. I’ve gotten so worked up over a post-theme for Wednesdays that I’ve been cheating and working on it 3 days in advance. Alas, I do have a little bit of fun for postage. Although my third post is all but a post at all, I will leave ya’s with re-prints of three old poems from back in the day-day while going to University. Don’t judge me too hard now.

~ Wolfgang Matthews


Blame Game
Free Verse Poem Draft 6 (Final)
Written By: Dean Estes

Let’s play the Blame Game.
She said, “I know I can win it.”
          But what’s winning when winning is ending before we’re finished?
What’s winning when winning is ending with transgressions?
You blaming me for my wrongs is a step in the right direction, but three rights don’t make a left when we’re left with a misconception.
          But what’s losing when choosing what’s who’s fault leaves a bruising impression all on our egos? Well let’s call my feelings a window; it was steamy with self-esteem. Yours matched mine when we met. We were more than a perfect team, till the day that the blames started. Blaming became a game, then a game that we restarted and restarted and restarted. Now look at where we aren’t, floating oceans apart.

I write about us in class as I try to dry out my heart. But its cold, so damp and my fingers are falling apart. Holding this pen is hard, can you blame me? 


Life or Lack Thereof
List Poem Draft 2 (Final)
Written by: Dean Estes

  1. Open your mind.
  2. Open your ears.
  3. Open your eyes.
  4. Open your throat.
  5. Open your lips.
  6. Take a dandy yawn, you deserve it for all that hard-working sleep.
  7. Open your door.
  8. Open another maybe.
  9. Go into the room that’s too cold for your feet.
  10. Close the door cause hot air is precious and its escaping.
  11. Open the toothpaste.
  12. Do (5) again and add in the teeth.
  13. Open your eyes wide cause I swear it’ll clean them better.
  14. Open the cold water faucet.
  15. Open your throat again.
  16. Smile for your twin, no parsley? Groovy.
  17. Open your urethra and colon if necessary.
  18. Open the drain that flushes the leftover-you away.
  19. Open the shower curtain.
  20. Open the hot water faucet.
  21. Open the bottles of chemicals.
  22. Cover yourself in chemicals.
  23. Open your mind some more. The hot water will do you justice.
  24. Open the shower curtain again.
  25. Open the door you closed after opening it to begin.
  26. Open the dresser drawer or closet door.
  27. Open yourself to options and possibilities.
  28. Open the cold door.
  29. Open a jug and chug.
  30. Open the front door.
  31. Open your mind some more.
  32. Now there’s nothing left to open that you haven’t opened before.
  33. Open up to Life without hiding behind closed doors.

Personal Poem
Imitation Poem Draft 2 (Final)
Written by: Dean Estes

Well I’m gonna vent and get bent on my thoughts

Like Frank O’hara can do. Thought my natural

Cause is to rhyme and take time with my clause.

Can’t you see what I do?

I write and I write and erase till its 10:45. I’m racing

The clock and the tick and the tock are banging

Against my brain. Only an hour is left till I’m due for the

Kids in the class to go judging my ass. Only an hour is right

To take flight in my plight so fuck it: I’m burning this grass.

Now where do I go from here? Do I steer towards

A pretty little plot of my room? Or give you some in-

Sight of what’s going on in my life like you don’t

Already have enough bullshit going on in yours?

I’ll take Choice C and for me that’s a day out of

School with my friends at the thrift store. I see no

Point in the purchase of clothing that costs more than

A meal or two. Think of the ways you could spend all that cash

That you waste on threads of cloth woven and sewn

To your liking. I don’t know what else to build upon here.

But hey, the rhyming had stopped for a minute or two,

That’s a plus in my mind to say the least. For sheer

Spontaneity, I’m proud of myself.

I guess this is how things are done.

Breaking the Ice with Grand-pere

An online profile, blog, journal, portfolio. I feel like such a fucking tool. Sidenote: What kind of mood do I want this journal to express? Where do I take my readers with the words written? I’ve dropped one word of choice language and I’m already asking 101 questions. I just don’t want to come off as the potty-mouthed pissant that most writers come off as while toting their two cents through a computer screen. That’s my biggest concern with myself though isn’t it? Self-appreciation.

I can’t do one thing out in public or for the public’s benefit without second-guessing everything. It really puts a halt on production in the bigger picture of things. Even now, here I am going on in my first post ever about how I don’t even know if this is appropriate for a first post. The entire inflection began with my saying “fucking” some two lines into the entire entry. With all this being said, I feel like I’ve began expressing to you all how I go about expressing myself. Have we talked ourselves in circles yet? OK! Then lettuce begin, shall we?


 

Timestamp: 0348 hours, Friday 24 June, 2016

“I’m just so relieved that its over. We were hanging out going nowhere, diggin’ how the guitar goes inna song that no one knows.”

Although I can’t find significance and/or any remote justification bearing weight for why I finally began writing today, I’m proud to say that today is the day. It’s been a long time coming too, as some of you whom I know personally will understand. The journey began some 18 months ago, sometime after the Christmas holiday of that year. It was holiday, so naturally one sees more of their loved ones than usual; the friends and family we only take the time to care about because we’re sharing a table of chronic food together. You know, those loved ones.

Well, following the joyous celebrations of Jesus’ birth and so on, I had a lifelong friend over to chat shit over a bowl or two; you know, catch up and compare the lives of one another since our divergence

Looking back, its breathtaking to see the flower of my mind now, blossom from the seed it was on that day. So much growth in the last 16 months. So much change – Not my entire mind, mind you. – Just the part that wakes up somewhere in adulthood saying, “Hey dude, its coming reeeeally close to closing time”, but instead of following with lyrics to that awfully catching one-hit wonder by Semi-Sonic, you go, “Damn, you’re right Mind. I suppose I should start deciding my personal legend and figuring out where I’m gonna fit in the world for the next 30-40 years before I’m either ignored, forgotten, or both.” Or something along those lines…Now, I’m not saying that I feel the need to be famous or remembered on a grand scale by any means. I just want to leave my footprint, if you will. A legacy. But all in all, as long as I can make my mark somewhere in the world on either physical, emotional, or even metaphysical level, I’ll be a crispy biscuit. I can say I’m not afraid of much in life outside of the general terrors and phobias like snakes and other commonly creepy shit. But regarding real Fear, with the capital F, with the heart-beating-out-of-your-chest fear that makes you anxious and stressed and pukey all at once Fear, mine sits happily in the shallow pit of Failure.

Back to the point, during this reunion with the lifelong friend from above,  I had an epiphany. We were going on an on measuring dicks of whats going on in life and he was, and is, doing extraordinary things with his youth: Travel, exotica, money, happy, Success. Meanwhile, I’m sitting upon the fouton in my parents’ basement that I’ll be folding down into a bed when I lay my head to sleep that night. Do you get where I’m coming from? I sat there and saw myself looking up to my lifelong equal and bestmate as a role model. I was so proud of him. He was fulfilling his own personal legend! And after that, I hated that I felt so proud of him. Above all, I hated most that I couldn’t be so proud of myself even.

In 3 days, Lifelong would be leaving the States via his upper 5-figure salary from interning at a Forbes 500 company to visit his long-distance fiancée in (undisclosed exotic country).

Also in 3 days, I would be digging the earwax from my ear as I played Yu-Gi-Oh on a Ps2 in 2016. CATCH MY DRIFT?

This singular thought sent me into another plane of existence, I tell you. My mind was racing through thoughts and memories in time, trying to decipher where I’d gone wrong. What made Lifelong succeed where I failed? I had questions galore and answers no more. For the next few months, though I made certain not to share it with Sara, I went through a sort of regression mentally; scrubbing the blocks clean and rearranging them as I saw fit. Looking back, involving her would have been beneficial for the both of us in the long run. But that’s another story fit for another time.

Anyways, after some inflection, and looking into the Lid, I came up with this grand scheme of writing. It’s always been what I do best. Talking, writing, expressing thoughts both true and false alike. Anyone and everyone has always enjoyed what I’ve had to say, even if it was to their own amusement besought by my own stupidity and ignorance. All the same, all is true. I have a way with words. So began the incredible journey of a writer. Fast forward a year and some changing of the seasons, and here we are. Summer of twenty-sixteen. I’m 24 years old. My friends call me Grandpa. My Sara calls us we. I’m ready to start writing so fuck it, C’est la Vie.

 

~ Wolfgang Matthews

Post-scripture: Dig the tunes below as they played throughout the duration of this post’s contruction – both IRL and in my head. Also, the lyric at the beginning of this post comes from So Long, Jimmy.

So Long, Jimmy Bleezy
This is How We Walk On The Moon – Geographer