Guess What Week This Is....

It's National Cthulhu Week!

.... Oh come on, people! Don't be afraid to unleash your inner Lovecraftian fan! Join me in a week-long celebration of the Cthulhu Mythos. Join us in madness!

Or you could sit in your houses, completely oblivious of the horror around you. Preferably with an Elder Sign above your door, because only Lovecraft knows what's going to be happening this week!

Whilst At a Party....

A herd of cosmic
Shoggoths are grazing on
Raw plutonium, sipping the
Nectar of the gumdrops.
Around them, intestines of blue
Dreams are writhing and
Twitching, wrapping around
The souls of hidden dreamers
Like blue-jelly
Hagfish.

Good Times

Think of your definition of a good day. Got it? How do those days start?For me, it can be as simple as listening to the right music.

Yesterday was an amazing day, but I didn't think it would be. I missed the bus, and the weather couldn't decide whether or not to rain. I thought it was going to be one of those crappy days where you just can't get happy, and nothing goes right.

When I get to school about 20 minutes early, I was prepared for crappy music to be blasting from the speakers in the gym, so I was pleasantly surprised to hear 'Crazy Train' by Ozzy Osbourne being played. I sat down and read H. P. Lovecraft to the sounds of 'Help' by the Beatles, 'It's The End Of The World As We Know It' by R.E.M., and things of that ilk. A good way to start a morning.

Fast forward a few hours to the period of lunch, when it actually got through my head that it was May 17th. For those of you I hadn't told, that was the day that my new graphic novel was due to arrive. The novel? JTHM: Director's Cut. This put me in hyper-fangirl mode, which is always accompanied by happiness.

I get home to a dog who's bouncy and easily excited, and to large packages in front of the door. Due to the fact that it's the 17th, I am now just as bouncy as Georgia Rose, which confuses her to no end. Dad comes home from Rochester, and we open the boxes together. To my extreme disappointment, none of them contain my novel. I prepare to wait another day, and begin to walk off to my room when my dad asks what size package JTHM: Director's Cut could be in. Confused, I turn around, and he hands me a notebook-sized package. I squealed with fan-girlish delight, and practically tore the package open to reveal the book I had been dreaming about all week. At this point, I was giggling insanely, and dashed up to my room. For the next five hours, I was laughing hysterically at things that I probably shouldn't have laughed at...

Are you thinking this day cannot possibly get better for me? It can, believe me, it can..... That night, over great pizza with sausage, artichoke hearts and feta, we watched Grosse Pointe Blank. Yes, I watched a movie about a professional killer after reading a graphic novel about a homicidal maniac. So sue me. It had a great soundtrack, too! There were only two or three songs I didn't know.

Just a word to the wise, though. Don't read Edgar Allen Poe, H. P. Lovecraft and JTHM before you attempt to sleep. If you manage it, you will have really odd dreams.....

Not Cthulhu, But Close Enough

"Untitled"

Today, today is a green-grey
Day, rare in its own regard.
Today, ah yes, today,
The stars are almost right.

The time has come, some
Walrus said, and how he spoke the
Truth. Dictators fall 'round the world,
And one trembles here, at home.

The stars are almost right again,
And things long hidden will
Live. Courage strides across the mind, while
Freedom flickers bright.

The stars are almost right again,
The stars are almost right.

World View, As Seen By A Pessimist

"Waking Nightmares"

I feel a strange pall overtake the scene, a mist flowing freely across the land. I am walking through a veil, unable to see the ground, and I can barely breathe.

The world is dying in slow motion. I can feel it in my bones. I think I have bones, anyway. I'm not quite sure.

I am adrift now, floating through a sea of mindless faces who gibber and scream twisted words into a hazy sky clouded with fear. The noise is growing in intensity, reaching a fever pitch that hurts the mind. We are a thousand, nay, a million lemmings rushing to oblivion, and we are welcoming it into our souls.

Today I learned I was born too late. The world's minds are closing fast, clams at the low tide. The activist's preaching to the choir now, they know the truth. We are a million-billion tight-minded lemmings, and we are welcoming the death and decay.

I see this around me, through displays of idiocy that rival those of the Demon Sultan Azathoth. The mad drums and wailing pipes it writhes to in the darkness, we have our own, taking form as Justin Bieber, Fox News and their ilk. 'Tis no wonder the luck has left the world.

Again and again I try to wake from this horrid dream to no avail. There is no one there to shake me from slumber, to wake me. I am alone, horribly and terribly alone in this waking nightmare.