HAPPY NEW YEARS, FUCKERS Options

[Seussninja]

=)

[Spectatrix]

whee

[FORSAKENR320]

AS WE GROW

They say hindsight is 20/20, that anyone can win the battle after it's over, and that the memory we will hold onto the hardest will always be regret.....

I find myself this new years eve night, sitting in a cold car alone, wondering what has become of my life. i look back, and i see so many failures, so many dumb mistakes that could have been corrected had i only paid closer attention. where could i have been had i only realised what a mistake too much loyalty to an unworthy situation would cause me? what would have happened had i only acted sooner to getting business taken care of? why oh why must i procrastinate to take that ambitious first step forward, for when i finally do, i find my opportunity has already passed. the pressure of doing it all alone is so much right now, but i look back into my past, and i think "it wasn't so bad back then, why did i crack under the pressure?"

As we grow, i believe that how we define our own existence is based on the experiences we have absorbed. like a water balloon slowly being filled for the first time, our souls and minds are stretched to their capacity, but if at anytime, we were to look back at how full we were 5 seconds before, we would always say "that wasn't so bad, i should have known i could have handled that back then" while at the same time, worry over the pressure we are currently under, and 5 seconds into the future be able to look back at the present and once again think "i should have known." what do these thoughts accomplish? one would say they are only a hindrance to our ability and ambition, but is regret the only thing that makes us hold back?

As we grow, we find ourselves fearing many things, but the fear of the unknown is the greatest of all. that great black darkness in the basement is much more scary than the small blood stain on the work bench beside it. then, when we finally get the courage to explore closer, we find that what we conceived to be a blood stain is actually a bit of red paint from grandpa's latest toy for your younger brother, and that the darkness we so feared to contain some horrible evil merely houses a few furry little balls of fluff and we find ourselves with an armful of kittens. does this mean that we should go through life without fear? hardly, for just as we were overly cautious, we too can be overly naive, and instead find our cuddly little kittens to not be kittens at all, but a blood thirsty maniac with a particular hatred against furry little balls of fluff and those beings who enjoy them. what do these thoughts accomplish? one would say they are only a hindrance to our ability and ambition, but is fear the only thing that makes us hold back?

As we grow, instead of making steady progress, we tend to have lapses of stagnation and progressiveness. the progressive periods lead us to accomplishment, and a sense of pride, while the stagnation periods lead to depression and a feeling of worthlessness. over all, both of these periods are necessary, for if one felt nothing but accomplishment, what would be there to challenge that person? what trophy would mean anything to the person owning it if said trophy was just handed to him by a stranger for no reason or accomplishment? at the same time, without a progressive streak, what would motivate a person to continue living if there was no hope he would ever succeed? life needs a challenge to have a meaning, and what better challenge than our own fears of failure? what better motivator to improve ourselves than our own regrets? what do these thoughts accomplish? one would say they are only a hindrance to our ability and ambition, but is ignorance the only thing that makes us hold back?

It is new years day, and i find myself sitting in a cold car alone, wondering what has become of my life. the dawn of a new year rises, and with it all the hopes, ambitions, successes, failures, moments of ignorance and the regrets of the previous year drive us to make new years resolutions, a mind game to make us all stand up with new hope and say "i will move forward.... as we grow."

(impromptu writing by Brandon Hobgood january 1, 2007)

[rabble]

It all started with an article called “The 13 most beautiful women in the world,â€Â that came in the last issue of Rachel’s favorite teen magazine. Being a young and impressionable teenager, she compared herself to these women by staring into the brightly lit mirror that hung from the wall in her parent’s bathroom.

“Why aren’t I as pretty as the women in these pictures,â€Â she questioned softly to herself as she grabbed onto the thin layer of skin that clung to her belly. She gazed at the mirror for a while longer, “I’ll never be beautiful if I am so fat,â€Â she pouted as she scanned the bathroom in the mirror’s reflection. Her eyes affixed themselves to the shiny porcelain toilet situated in the back corner, “I have to get rid of all this fat I’m eating before it goes to my tummy.â€Â Rachel turned and approached the toilet before adjusting herself to a kneeling position. She was quite nervous as she stuck her finger into her mouth, she had never done this before and she was afraid she would injure herself. Rachel had discovered the eating disorder Bulimia, and it would change her life forever.

It had been a few weeks since Rachel had begun her regiment of purging after a meal; the imagined belly fat had all but disappeared. In fact, Rachel was beginning to loose more than just fat as her body shrunk into a shell of its former self. The bulimia was beginning to take its toll on her schoolwork and social life; no longer did she have the energy for studying or hanging out with friends. This daily purging had become her new routine, that is, until tonight.

Rachel knelt down to the toilet just like she had done many times before. She began her nightly purge by poking at the back of her mouth, thus forcing the food she had just eaten to push itself out in a torrent of half-eaten flavor. Only after her meal reached the inside of the bowl did Rachel notice the difference, instead of the normal “splashâ€Â of food, it became the “clankâ€Â of rocks and stones. She opened her eyes to see the glittering shimmer of the bright overhead lights reflecting off the multicolored gems mixed in with her dinner. “What is this,â€Â she questioned herself as she lifted one of the gems to her pale and malnourished face. She studied the gem for a few moments before deciding, “I should take these to my science teacher tomorrow and see if he knows what they are,â€Â and she began to place all of the stones into a towel for safekeeping.

The next morning Rachel rushed out of the door without eating breakfast, she was on a quest to find out what the rocks and stones in her vomit were and if she was in any danger from them. She was afraid that they might be a symptom of her nightly purge.
Rachel’s science teacher, sat behind his standard wooden desk in the halogen lit middle school science lab. He just happened to be enjoying a rather delicious sandwich when Rachel burst through his door. “Rachel, what are you doing here so early, school hasn’t even started yet,â€Â he said with food still hanging from his teeth. “Mr. Pentergrass, I, uhh, I found these outside in my backyard, do you know what they are,â€Â Rachel said as she spread open the towel of gems on her teacher’s desk. Even in the moderate light of the classroom Rachel’s gems shined brightly, illuminating the area with a multicolored spectrum of light. Mark was floored, in front of him sat stones more valuable than his house, “Tâ€Â¦Those look like diamonds Rachel, where did you get these,â€Â he asked, wise enough to know that you don’t just find thousands of dollars worth of diamonds in your backyard. “NOWHERE,â€Â she exclaimed as she snatched up the towel and scurried out of the room, afraid that she was now in trouble.

Rachel ran down the street until the weeks of bulimia caught up to her fragile frame, she had to get rid of these diamonds before she got in big trouble with her school and her family, but she was too weak to travel by foot. Just at that moment, a city bus pulled up next to her, Rachel had exhausted herself at the bus stop that leads downtown; exhausted from the run, she looked inside the cabin and climbed aboard the crowded bus. The passengers stared, annoyed and grumpy, their usual commute doesn’t stop at this always deserted bus stop and she was wasting their time. “Mister, I need you to take me to the nearest pawn shop,â€Â she huffed at the bus driver, attempting to catch her breath. “Haha, yeah right,â€Â the driver scoffed, he was too busy scanning the roadway in his rear-view mirror for oncoming traffic to bother himself will frivolous requests. “No mister, I really need to get to a pawn shop. You have to help me before I get into a lot of trouble,â€Â she almost cried as she confessed her plight to him. The bus driver looked away from the rear-view mirror to respond, “little girl, this bus goes downtown, and downtown only, shouldn’t you be headed to school anyway?â€Â Rachel reached into her towel and pulled out a diamond as the size of a quarter, “This is yours if you take me, please mister. I need to get to a pawn shop.â€Â The surprised gasps that escaped from the passengers gave way to the newly enchanted eyes of the bus driver, “everyone not going to buy a gold bracelet or diamond ring better get off this bus right now. This bus is now headed to the jewelry exchange,â€Â he exclaimed to his regular commuters, “This bus is now chartered by this lovely young woman,â€Â he said with a wide toothy grin as he took the diamond into his possession. The commuters begrudgingly exited the bus complaining about how late they were going to be for work; as the last of them exited, the bus pulled away and headed towards the financial district.

Rachel arrived at a large commercial building, the driver had been wise and kept the conversation to a minimum during the trip, so she handed the man one more diamond, this one was larger than the first, and it was a dark ruby red. She stepped off the bus, stood on the sidewalk, and looked up at the tall building, taking in its impressive structure. She felt the warm smog from the bus as it pulled away, and took it has her cue to head into the corporate behemoth.

“Excuse me ma’am I need someone to help me,â€Â Rachel said as she peered over the receptionist’s desk in the main lobby. A soft southern voice greeted her, “awww aren’t you cute, does your daddy work here little girl,â€Â the woman stood up to see a young girl holding a towel filled with something. “No ma’am, I need to sell these gems before I get in trouble,â€Â Rachel explained to the woman. The receptionist looked surprised for a second before chuckling, “you have gems in that towel, what play-set did they come from,â€Â the receptionist joked lightly. “They aren’t from a play-set ma’am, they are real,â€Â Rachel exclaimed as she pulled out another precious stone, this one a ruby. The woman leered at the ruby for a moment, bewildered by its charm, “Oh my, let me call you someone right away,â€Â and she picked up the phone and began to speak with someone in a hushed voice. After a few more muffled sentences the receptionist replaced the handset and told Rachel to head up to the third floor. Rachel handed the receptionist the ruby and thanked her for her help as she walked toward the elevators.

A bald man with a comb-over greeted Rachel on the third floor, “Hello miss, I hear that you have some gems to sell, why don’t you follow me to my office,â€Â he said as he waved his hand toward the large office in the corner of the room. Mr. Brooke eyed the towel filled with the stones as he followed behind Rachel into his office. Daylight streamed into Mr. Brooke’s office from the open windows and illuminated the his many pictures and trophies. “Please, have a seat,â€Â Mr. Brooke stated as he motioned to the large leather chairs next to his desk. Rachel moved to the chairs and took a seat; Mr. Brooke, who had been standing next to his desk, sat down in his chair and smiled at Rachel. “Now, let’s see these stones you have for me,â€Â he stated with a hint of eagerness. Rachel took her towel and spread it open on Mr. Brooke’s desk; the many gems illuminated the office as the bright sunlight danced on the surface of the stones. “I thinkâ€Â¦I think we can make a deal here. How about I buy all these stones from you for two hundred dollars, you can even keep your towel,â€Â Mr. Brooke said, lying convincingly like a Shakespearian actor giving a dramatic monologue. “Oh wow, really,â€Â Rachel sat up in her chair, “I just wanted to get rid of them but two hundred dollars is great! Thank you Mr. Brooke.â€Â “Then it’s a deal, and please, call me Larryâ€Â Mr. Brooke said as he shook Rachel’s hand. Larry filled out a small form and handed it to her, “Take this back to the receptionist in the lobby and she will give you your money, also, take my business card incase you need to get rid of anymore of these stones.â€Â

Rachel took the slip and headed back down to the receptionist, “Larry told me to give you this,â€Â and she handed the slip to the woman. “Ahh, quite a businesswoman you’re becoming, let me call you a private limo to take you home,â€Â the receptionist said as she picked up the phone. She put the handset back after a short conversation, “ok, all you need to do is head out to the sidewalk, our driver is waiting out there to take you home, just tell him where you live, ok,â€Â she said as she handed Rachel a check for two hundred dollars. Rachel looked at the paper in her hand; she felt the texture of the check and the indent of the pen that spelled out her meager sum. She thanked the receptionist for her help and headed out to the waiting limo.

Time passed slowly for Rachel over the course of the next weeks, her daily purge had become a lottery, some days she would find many gems, while other days she would only find a few. Every Saturday she would call Larry Brooke, she decided to get rid of her stones only on the weekends. After the yelling she received the first day she skipped class, she decided it would be best to keep her attendance up. So every week a limo would pick her up from down the block and take her to the jewelry exchange where she would meet with Larry and sell her stones for two hundred dollars.

This routine continued for a few more weeks, Rachel̢۪s small cache of checks began to overfill from the envelope she kept them in, no bank would open a checking account without her parents, and she couldn̢۪t very well walk around with hundreds of dollars in her billfold. Time continued to pass, and Rachel became more frail and weak; her family and friends became increasingly concerned about her wellbeing.

“Rachel, we are going to go see a doctor today, I can’t stand how thin you’ve become,â€Â Rachel’s mother said as she awoke Rachel from her midday nap. “Mom, I am fine, I don’t need to see a doctor,â€Â Rachel said as she turned and looked at her mother. Her mother turned back and yelled down the hall, “Bob, come get your daughter, we are leaving for the doctor’s office.â€Â Rachel’s father came into the room and scooped her up in his arms. “You’re not well, your father can pick you up and cradle you, he shouldn’t be able to do that,â€Â her mother said, “try and fight back but you’re too weak.â€Â And with that, Rachel and her family packed into the car and headed to an eating disorder specialist.
Rachel and her family pulled up to a brick building with a large “Jomar Clinicâ€Â sign on the side of it. Rachel reluctantly entered the office and plopped down into one of the uncomfortable chairs in the drab and depressing waiting room. Her parents went up to the nurse’s stand and began to fill out the admittance forms. With her parents busy with paperwork, Rachel took this as an opportunity to leave unnoticed and she stealthily left the building and headed to the corner convenience store.

“DING,â€Â the door chimed up when Rachel entered, she passed the assorted snacks and other knickknacks, she was on a mission and she headed strait for the payphone. Rachel fished in her pocket for a quarter and pulled out two, she shoved one into the slot and kept the second one in her palm in case her call ran long. “Hello, Rachel is that you,â€Â Larry said. “Yes, I need you to pick me up, my parents are trying to have me committe,â€Â Rachel screamed into the receiver as she began to cry. “Don’t worry, tell me where you are and I’ll send over the driver,â€Â Larry said in a calm tone, “I know someone who can keep you safe for a while.â€Â Rachel explained to Larry where she was, and with that, she disappeared from the custody of her parents to the safety Mr. Brooke.

She arrived at the jewelry exchange to see Larry standing with another gentleman next to a grey compact car. As she exited the limo Larry smiled and waved her over, the other man turned to her and smiled as well. Rachel approached the two men. Larry was wearing his customary suit; however this new man was wearing a T-Shirt and Jeans. Larry introduced the new man to Rachel, “Rachel, this is Ahmeed, he will be taking care of you for a while,â€Â Ahmeed looked down at her before handing her a bottle of water, “You must be thirsty from your escape, please, drink this and feel better.â€Â Rachel took the bottle and thanked Ahmeed. She drank the water before asking, “Where are you going to takeâ€Â¦Ã¢€Â she was cut short by falling unconscious mid-sentence.

Rachel awoke with a massive pounding headache, which was only multiplied by her malnourishment. Next to her sat Ahmeed, she looked past him to the small window that gave way to a vast ocean and the back half of an airplane wing. “Where are we,â€Â she questioned Ahmeed, he only looked down at her and frowned, “you shouldn’t be awake, I will give you something to sleep,â€Â he said as he force fed her a small white capsule. Rachel was now truly frightened, she was on am unknown plane with a stranger heading for distant lands, she hadn’t the time to think as the pill she was given put her back into a deep slumber.

She awoke again with the same pounding headache; however her location had once again changed. She was no longer on an airplane, she was not in her house, or her school, or even the Larry̢۪s office; she was now inside a small dimly lit room. She tried to stand only to find that her leg was chained to the wall. The metal frame of the cold shackle on her thin leg made her whole body shiver, and the weight of the chain prevented her from moving in any direction. The room itself was made of brick, it had no windows, and the only opening was a small slit at the bottom of a large and imposing door. A bowl filled with old bread and lettuce sat on the inside of the slit.

Fear overcame Rachel once again, she began to scream for help; over and over she begged but was given only her echo as a reply. She tried to cry but her frail body was too weak to produce tears. Instead she pulled herself into the corner and whimpered like a mouse in a cage.

Rachel sat in the cell for four days; she was brought three meals a day in bowls shoved through the hole in the bottom of the door. Every time a new bowl was brought, she yelled and screamed but received no answer. Reluctantly she ate the food but did not purge herself afterwards; she was too weak and too afraid to be concerned with vanity. On the fifth day, the door opened up to reveal Ahmeed, “You, the sultan wants to see you,â€Â he said as he placed a blindfold over her eyes and released her from the chain binding. She was carried down what felt like a maze of corridors. After a few minutes of travel she was placed in a chair and her blindfold removed. In front of her sat a very large table filled with delicious foods from all over the world. Rachel’s eyes widened as she scanned the table, she proceeded to grab the closest piece of food and devour as much of it as she could.

“Good, you need to eat as much as you can,â€Â said the man sitting casually at the other end of the table. Rachel hadn’t bothered to look at anything other than the food and had not noticed the man. “I hear you have a special talent for precious gems, I wasn’t sure how you got them until I had my people look into your personal life,â€Â he said casually. Rachel looked at the man, still demolishing the pile of food, and said, “You had people watching me, and then you kidnapped me, who do you think you are?â€Â “Don’t worry; I am not here to harm you. Once I discovered that your bulimia was the cause of your rare and valuable condition I knew I had to have you for my own. I convinced your teacher, a Mr. Pentergrass, to persuade your parents to take you to one of the many hospitals and clinics I own. It was only by dumb luck that you escaped and found your way to me without my help,â€Â The man said with a chuckle. “My name is Sultan Jomar, I own this Palace and all the people in it. I must apologize for the earlier treatment, Ahmeed is quite a capable assassin, but he has very few people skills,â€Â the sultan explained. “From now on you will have anything you desire as long as you live here with me in this palace and continue producing that wealth of diamonds from your body,â€Â the sultan picked a grape and ate it with a grin, “of course, if you refuse, then I will throw you back in that depressing cell where you will surely perish. So what will it be, will you have fortune or will you have famine?â€Â Rachel reached into her pocket and recovered her wallet, inside was a picture of her family. She looked at the picture for a few moments and responded, “If I stay here I will never see my family again, but if I refuse, I will be killed. What kind of choice is that? But, ok Sultan, I will be your slave and live here with you, I will bring you diamonds and pearls, but I wish to see my family every day.â€Â The Sultan pondered the request for a moment, “If it is your family you wish to see, then you will see them. I will have my assistants make your room for you, please continue eating while I go attend to other matters.â€Â

For the rest of Rachel̢۪s life she lived in the palace with the sultan, producing for him all sorts of precious gems. Her family never saw her again, but she saw her family ever day just as the sultan had promised. Each afternoon after her daily activities of horseback riding or swimming in the palace lake, Rachel would return to her room to find an envelope filled with photographs taken of her family, each photo was dated from the day before.

-Impromptu writing by Ira Freilich January 1st 2007

[The Fanatic]

Feelings featured on the covers of faces drown in asbestos walls of absolution. Nothing lingers at back door sorrows; encapsulating the truth of another dreary year. Everything remains, nothing has changed for those who follow the trodden path.

[Seeker]

[rabble]

a teenage bulimia victim suddenly starts vomiting precious gems