Archive for March, 2015

Finn Journal – 1 Honey pt.1 (ep02)

“I am called Elenora Bahkeem. My name is Elenora. Who are you?”
“I am me. We don’t have what you call names.” both looked at the other as if they had just said the sky was red and the sea was made of deserts. “Where is your family?” Elenora couldn’t stand the awkwardness of the silence between them. “What is that?” the Naga girl emphasized the last word, her eyes widely opened. “Your mother, father, sisters or brothers?” Elenora began to feel as if the Naga was joking. “We lay eggs at warm depths, for a few years old Naga look out for us, the mothers go away, we are all sisters!” she smiled. “And your family?”
Elenora felt a darkness rise in her soul, ice cold hands of fear and hatred clutched her heart. “Let’s talk of something else!” she shoved the smell of cheap rum and big powerful hands on her bdy aside. “How should I call you?” the Naga girl didn’t know what to reply. “How about Venia?” still clueless as to vwhat purpose the entire name giving served the Naga girl nodded softly.
“Elenora?!” thundering thow sloppily articulated, her Name rolled through the forest like a thunderstorm catching up with her. Petrified by the sudden fear that voice brought into her heart Elenora could not move, nor reply. Venia glanced over Elenoras shoulder in the direction the voice came from. Heavy, unsteady steps stumbled through the forest.
Smells if sweat, and alcohol preceded the man before he could be seen. “Run.” Venia hissed, although the smell of the approaching man was not the smell of the fishermen who had stabbed her in the side and left her to die in the waters after pullibg her aboard with their net, they had the same stench of cheap alcohol on them. She felt anger empowering her, and she possessed a weapon that her savior didn’t have, her venom, before puberty a toxin that immobilized the victim and left it to die as all muscles in his body shut down, later it woukd change. He regret was that the fishermen had disentangled her stinger only after stabbing her .Elenora shook her head. “I can’t, already do I feel him upon me!” tears shot to her eyes rolled down the dirty cheeks. “Then remain silent.” Venia punched her savior in the face so hard that Elenora fell backwards and remained there.
Quickly she slithered towards the tree line, underneath a tree she coiled up her serpent like lower body and catapulted herself upwards to the branches, hiding in the tree just out of sight.
“Elenora! There you are, worthless little,” he stopped upon noticing the trail of blood around his step-daughter. A moment of regretting his consumption of alcohol ensued. He bent down to grab the child, Elenora screamed in terror, stopped screaming as her step-father stopped advancing towards her. There was look of terror in his eyes, slowly he turned around after the first sting. “What?” he stammered gazing upon Venia, who in turn stung a second time. “Revenge!” she hissed, sending a wave of hatred out of her mouth along with a second dose of venom out if her stinger. Acting out his drunkenness and fear of certain death he stumbled towards her, fell to the ground, attempting to crawl towards her, but ultimately stopped as his breathing became more and more shallow.

Irregular post: Springtime madness

Eyes filled with crud, tearing up out of the blue. Nose is both dry and running at the same time, an tingling.
The back of the throat is raw, it feels as if an iron weight is placed on the lungs, the occasional cough feels as if a pack of cigarettes had been smoked in an hour.

No I did not catch a cold or the flu.


And let me say that I absolutely, positively, ferociously HATE spring. To others it may be the season of love and life – to me it’s a death trap waiting to finish me off.

Now if you excuse me, I have flowers and blossoms to burn…

Athena and Fritz

Huddled together around a dim flashlight Athena, Otto Ferdinand and Teddy looked around the dark bedroom.
They were waiting for the little boy to go to sleep, but he was out with Mommy and Daddy.
Outside the moon shone through the clouds, shadows danced on the bedroom wall. Tighter and tighter the three cuddled together.
Afraid of the nightly sounds of Halloween the drew the blanket over their heads when a flapping noise startled them from above.
Shaking in fear Athena peeked out of the covers, but saw only the dark bedroom. “He-hello?”
Upside down a face pushed down to her, white fangs pertruding from the mouth. “Hi!”
Hooting in shock Athena rushed back under the blanket, the black face followed with curious eyes. “Hello, I’m Fritz the Bat!” The friendly newcomer grinned into the dimly lit blanket fort.
One by one Athena, Otto and Teddy introduced themselves, and were rejoined with a happy little boy as he greeted Fritz with a welcoming embrace later when he came to bed.

Finn Journal – 1 Honey pt.1 (ep01)

Gently, swayed by unseen and and unfelt forces, waves rolled against the soft sandy beach, warmed by the sunshine high above, reflected by the bright yellow sand of the beach. Crabs moved around, their hideouts washed out by the waves, or they themselves dragged high on the shore. Quickly looking for food and shelter their tiny legs crawled across the sand.
Seagulls swooped down on occasion to catch their food.
Tiny feet quickly rushed over the wet ground, pursued by large feet. The salty seawater mixed with salty tears. “Elenora!” the anger laden voice of a male swept across the beach like rolling thunder. “Come back here!” the words were lacking the finesse of a sober speaker. As the noise of a heavy body tumbking and fallung into the wet soft underground sounded behind her, Elenora quickened her pace although feeling relieved to have gained some more distance. More drunken shouts followed but soon trailed off in a mixture of self-loathing and sorrow.
Elenora kept running. She knew what was in store for her if she returned. Beatings, yelling and even more beating. If she was lucky. But Elenora didn’t feel lucky, her feet took her around the rocky part of the beach, the tropical forest was dense near the coast. In one of her many attempts to flee the groping, beating hands of her stepfather she had discovered a bay inside the forest.
Had not hunger driven her back to her home, she would’ve stayed. But determined to rather starve than face the horrific abuse again she wouldn’t leave the bay again.

All Elenora could hear, despite the waves of the ocean and the sounds of the forest, was her own heartbeat. She didn’t even breathe, could she do as she pleased she would’ve stopped her heart so she’d be one with the sounds around her, one with nature, completely dissolving in it so she wouldn’t be Elenora Bahkeem anymore.
A whimpering noise startled her, made her jump to her feet. “Who’s there?” her courage only showed since the voice that whimpered was definitely that of another child.
No answer. Grabbing a stick that was lying near her, she summoned all her courage to walk towards the whimpering. After a few minutes she found the source of the whimpers lying on the shore.
Elenora swallowed hard as her eyes glid over the scales of a snake like body, a human torso, leathery scaled wings and long black hair, as the child Naga was lying face down in the sand.
Reluctantly she approached, poking the Baga child with her stick, immediately assuming a defensive position afterwards. “Go ahead and kill me, that’s what you are here for, usnt it?” she turned over, lying on her wings in an uncomfortable way. Elenora clearly saw that the Naga had beeb crying, and that it was wounded. Still with great reluctance she put her stick away. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
The naga girl sighed, moved only to put her wings in a more comfortable position. “You still are going to watch me die.” she hissed, looking at her hand after she had briefly touched her bleeding wound. “I don’t want you to die” Elenora replied, tearing some cloth from her ragged clothes. She had watched fishermen do this as they had an accident at the coast.
She put the cloth on the wound in the Naga girls side. “Press it hard on the wound.” she remembered the procedure in the village, tearing more strips of cloth to form a bandage. “Now sit up.” baffled why the human girl helped her the Naga complied. Moments later she sat with an improvised bandage around her body in the soft sands. “What is your name?” Elenora sat next to her newly found acquaintance. “Name? What is that?”

Irregular annoyed post 25 March 2015

Brightly lit day, I’d estimate it to be somewhen between 10am and 1 pm:
A dude rides on a Bike, a Bartender at an open air Bar opens a bottle with orange booze in it, next to the “on” Mic for an orange speaker-system in the street.
Orange booze is poured in glasses with fresh ice in them.
Bike-guy steals an orange hat from a girl conversing with another girl at a table in front of a Café. As she follows he rings his bell.
More booze is poured in ice filled glasses.
A stack of boxes containing oranges on a cart is rolling down a street, people (dude with ridicoulus hair; woman in “summerdress”) run after it. As the cart is forced to a stop by an obstacle, two women eagerly catch the oranges using bags (plastic by the looks of it).
Later these people (chasers and catching women) calmly walk down a sidewalk, passing oranges between them by throwing.
Different people steal orange hopping balls from an open delivery truck, smiling like exceptional individuals. Delivery guy sees this, laughs and takes two of the balls for himself, running after them while they are hopping down the road on said balls.
Booze in glasses is now handed out to some people (IN BROAD DAYLIGHT).
Suddenly the balls are baloons filled with “lighter than air” gass, people with booze-glasses walk joyfully around the baloons and several shelves (!) of identical bottles with the orange booze.
A dude on a bike (bike guy from before?) tows an orange sofa by. More booze drinking people, on the sofa and off.
All the while an annoying french song is playing.

Did you guess what it is?
Yes, the overly annoying Aperol advertising.


I never have tasted Aperol, and thanks to this advert – I NEVER WILL! So shove it!

If you could rage quit youtube, I’d do it atm.

Take care and drink ANYTHING BUT APEROL!

All this rage inducing shite aside, did you think about what your advert is telling people? THAT THESE PEOPLE HAVE ALCOHOL PROBLEMS! They hear a Bartender (pusher) open a bottle and stream in droves to the bar to get their fix IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY! How can these people get drunk that early? Aperol! “Joy is contagious!” Yeah, contagiously stupid.

Now stop doing idiotic adverts, and for the love the gods – stop dishing out the same advert thousands of times…


Floral/Fungal Journal – 4 Light (ep13)

Phyllis panted after she had put down her package. The icy air burned in her lungs, soon there would be snowfall. It was already in the air, the lingering smell. “Did you really think you could rescue that wretched old thing?” she turned to the source of the hateful words. “I thought they imprisoned you?” Phyllis turned fully to face Gajus, behind him was a horse, steam rose from the animal as he apparently had pushed it to its limits. “We had, but you see, the antiquated ways of the empire will not stop us.” Ophelia rode into Phyllis field of vision.

Sighing she sat down next to the large sack she had carried. The tall body of the great fungus rose behind her into the cloudy morning sky. “Well, you’ll blame it on me, right?” secretly she focused on the whispering voice in the back of her head. “I have what you need great one, but to deliver it, I require your aid!” she pleaded only in thought.

“Of course we,” Ophelia stopped mid sentence. “Hurry!” the two hissed, quickly Phyllis jumped to her feet, grabbed the sack and ran. Taking two steps at once she hurried up the stairs that lead to a platform in front of the gaping wound in the stem. In one fluid motion had she taken the sack off her back and opened it. Carefully she lifted the Floral out of the linen.

Perched on the handrail the Floral wimpered, while Phyllis stared down the opening that led into the interior of the great fungus. In a violent hiss a blast of fire impacted on the stem next to the opening. Phyllis turned to return an attack, only to realize she had not drank enough to summon a counter attack, every last drop of the Floral Mana she had consumed was used for invisibility during her journey to the fungus.

Gajus and Ophelia were attacked by the regukar guards, and the conjurers channeling the ethereal into the great fungus.

Hastily she returned her focus on the fungus. “Oh great fungus, may thy guidance once again hold us up from beneath the soil, and rescue the one led astray! For the light of truth will always outshine the fires of deception, wash away the lies and the ignorance!” she spread her arms to the sides standing behind the panicking Floral.

Sharp searing pain in her back stopped Phyllis from shouting more incantations and prayers. From the corners if her eyes she saw flames dissipating into nothingness. Forced by the momentum of the summoned fire Phyllis felt herself being pushed against the Floral and the wooden railing. Cracking noise at the height of her hips told Phyllis of the breaking railing that separated her from the gaping mound into the depths of the great fungus. In her fall she caught a glimpse of Gajus who had fired at her. Flames and other ethereal evils descended upon him.

But she felt life oozing out of her as she and the Floral fell into the gorge.


Light engulfed her body, more so her soul. A fainting smile appeared on her lips. Tendrils caught her, nested her, connected her. A feeling of wholesomeness spread throughout her her heart and soul.

Even if her attempt of saving the great fungus was a failure, she was connected with it, feeling the very thought and emotion the great fungus had spread through her, mix and mingle with her own.


Steam rose in a constant cloud from the spook-mushroom pie that stood on the table. Ghanus stared at it, absent minded, the female novice to the other side of the table. “Soon the errands from the great fungus will bring news and,” she stopped in mid sentence, holding her temple. Ghanus looked up.


A distinct outcry for help echoed through the hissed words. All in the library held their temples, apparently also hearing the cry for help.

The whispers stopped for a moment, Silicia looked distraught. “Was that,” she didn’t end her question intentionally. A simple nod was Ghanus sole reply.

Again whispers flooded the unheard realm of thought. Immediately Ghanus knew that Phyllis had fallen. But his grief was almost instantly soothed.

The whispering turned into thought. Thought and emotion filling all of his mind, all of his being.

“I live again.”

Life ain’t that hard: Raising kids!

Don’t get me wrojg, it’s a hell of a job, it’s taxing and it IS hard.

But people make some kind of dramatical fuzz about this, as if no one before them had ever raised a child.

Basically it all boils down to a few key issues:
-Feed your kid!
Obvious, isn’t it? At first you give the baby milk, later (~6months) you introduce food, wane milk, only food. Ain’t that hard, eh? Just keep it balanced between healthy and sinfully tasty. And remember, humans are omnivores, not herbivores. Raising a kid on a vegan diet is harmful!

-Keep your kid clean.
Doesn’t sound too hard. You can learn the basics from every other movie out there that has a Baby in it. From there on out, it is a path of “Obvious-shite”. Changing diapers (you’ll get the hang of when it’s full), washing/bathing/showering, dressing, in between clean up jobs (sticky fingers, are just the beginning of a wonderful dirt journey!), keeping the laundry clean. Not, that, hard. Really.

This is a vague term. What I want to say with this is, that you need to do some hard labour: Rules, Rewards and Punishments.
Yes. RRnP.

This is the sole reason why I write this.
There is a new parenting … thing, in the german language bubble, that I would translate as “unraising”.

These people stipulate that “raising” in and of itself is an act of aggression, a form of violence, in which one party (parents) put’s itself above the other party (kid/s), and then forcefully raises them. That the notion of parents having to protect, and look out for, their kids, is equal to “the white mans burden” (for those of you who have failed history class: having to protect the primitive/savage people in the colonies from themselves), and that “raising” in any way, shape or form is undemocratic, and is against equality…
Therefore they are against any rules, any intervention from the parents or someone else, in the development of their kids.

Well. Let me start with the lack of rules.
Listen, they took plant seeds to space, to see how they fare in zero G (=lack of any rules). It didn’t fare well. Plants, as it sems, need, other than light to guide them, gravity. They need the rules of UP and DOWN, to know where to grow to. Children need, other than food, also rules, to know what to grow into. A savage that doesn’t know right from wrong, just doesn’t fly well.

Raising is not a form of violence, claiming this is like saying gravity is a form of violence. Every animal is being raised. Every animal has social rules, and unless you’re a creature that is abandoned at birth (or as an egg), you are being raised! Always!

Parenting, a family, is NO democracy. There is NO equality.
My child is not equal to me in decisions that affect the entire family, or him. I cannot (and would not), for example, let him eat only candy.
If I had a daughter I would not allow her to leave the house in a skimpy outfit at twelve years of age.
I am the parent, I have knowledge, and experience.
Therefore, I am the one making rules. End of story. If you neglect your duties as a parent, BTW, the government has the right AND THE DUTY to take the child/-ren away from you. So allowing your twelve year old daughter out at 2am in a skimpy outfit might get your daughter taken away from you – if you’re lucky…

Again. Life ain’t that hard, raise your kids. Parenting is hard work, but is not something that will ruin you or your spirit. Countless generations before you did it, and will in the future.

Sure, it is important to provide room for your kid to grow into, but it also important to coarse it away from turning into a boar. There just is no future for a person that is unwilling to work, gets up at 1pm, and perhaps shits himself because going to the loo is too much of an effort. That’s what raising provides, a future, a guideline, and rules. As said above, RRnP.

I leave you with the fail of “unraising” parenting, and a desperate cry for attention and rules, I hope it’s a hoax, but at this point…

“My son (10) stopped going to school, five weeks ago. I can’t talk him into going again. Since he stopped, he started wetting and pooing himself. He doesn’t wanna talk or leave his room. Talking with him requires you to go into his room and sit beside him when he’s at the computer or in bed, but the stench is unbearable. I don’t know what to say to him anymore.”

Again, raise your fucking kids! It’s not that hard.