Things to Know

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18 years old, Puerto rican, attractive, smart

Sunday, November 30, 2008

a blue print to a story i want to write

I stroll along the streets every evening and occasionally jump from rooftop to rooftop. I find this a good source of exercise for me. I can not expose my true strength to the human public. So I dumb down my power to live by their pathetic standards. I protect them and yet they hunt monsters like me. It’s a beautiful night and I feel like flying. Too bad that was not a power I was provided with by the devil.
Forgive me. I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’ve just been ranting on and on. My name is Rafeal Mariano. My other name is Malice and that is only used during darkness. I am of the Spanish conquered land of Brazil. I am approximately 5000 years old but most of my memory before the 21st century has been removed from the corners of my mind. I can not explain this phenomena but I can say that you’ll never have recollection of any one you murder with a mind like mine.
I haven’t killed in a while but I have a name on this list that seems almost impossible to avoid. This man has been a very bad boy. John Sacten; commander of the U.S marine core and sergeant of the 21st regime unit to the Brazilian drug army called the Combatants. He has done some dirty business which involves the brutal killings of innocent U.S. marines and civilians due to drug trafficking complications. I wonder which technique I’ll use to kill him with.
My apologies, my techniques are my different ways of killing an individual. For a man like John Sacten I use different methods of torture. First with my given speed I can move quickly through his home and fluster the power. Move objects to spook him and show my true form. My beast. While I manage to mentally share the message of fear in his mind I will finally confront him and grab hold of his neck. My strength provided, I can easily lift him as if he were a pillow.
While he hangs in my grip I whisper to him how he will die and share with him his faults. I slowly move my hand down his left arm that has now gone limp from lack of oxygen. I reach the elbow and begin to dig my monstrous claws into it slowly cracking then breaking the cartilage. Blood spirts from his arm. He screams. I separate the forearm from the rest of his body. He screams for god. But little does he understand. God wanted this for him. God allowed his name on my list. Some god these humans believe. A self-sacrificial god. Pathetic.
The image of john’s mother must have entered his mind because he screamed for her. Funny man. She won’t be able to help him either. I dig into the upper left arm which is still connected to his body. Slowly digging through his muscles. Blood gushes every where. Such agony is intolerable to the human spirit. I can read his mind now. He wishes for death but I continue the torture. I am tearing the rest of his left arm off. He screams like a little girl. He asks me why I’m doing this I don’t answer. I am reaching for his left leg. John kicks viciously. I am stronger than him. I am grabbing hold and quickly tearing the limb right off the skin of the bone. The bones of his left leg seem strong. A lot of calcium and Iron in this man. I grow tire of him so I will end this. I slit his throat with my claws and I throw him across the room. Poor man. Would’ve thought he’d scream like a man……..

back to the yoke

It’s funny how I see life here in Holyoke. I thought I would be returning back to something I lost or something I needed. But as I look around this “great city” I realize just how much this city really looks like shit. I see the city council requested that certain buildings be repainted and remodeled. That there is a trash disposal canister on every corner so that way the streets would be cleaner. The side walks look straighter. In all great attempts to make this city look like something it isn’t. This city still leads in polls for teen pregnancy rate. The same bums that I have seen running my corners with their filth and drugs still reside in those very corners. The same niggas that jumped me and broke my jaw are running around free with no fear of anything that could happen to them. The women still like hoodrats and the men haven’t done shit with their lives but more shit. I go to college to get away from this. I am ashamed of where I live. I am ashamed of my hometown.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

the righteous and the triad

“There is snake’s in the garden. Tell the gardener to cut the grass.” (an old roommate)
The world is full of interesting characters and some of themselves one of the “Righteous.” It’s funny how a grown man carries himself with such swagger and such masculinity yet can still have his life influenced by those who I’ve previously called DEVIOUS CHARACTERS. The listening ear has always played in influence on the perception of the human mind. The ear unintentionally seeks information about things not previously heard before from the main source (the good friend). That’s when the Devious Character takes advantage and twists and miss informs the so called Righteous. Now the Righteous tends to start adding up bad things from the start of the relationship with the good friend until the day an event happens that the friends spills one dislike to the Devious Character, the righteous knows.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

The Triad

November 17, 2008
1st day of observation:

As I walked through the lanes of this great college I’ve noticed many things. One observation I’ve made happens to be that people are great actors towards one another. This isn’t anything you haven’t heard before but it’s still very interesting. Most people in this campus have what I call the case of the Alter Ego. This disease seems to be dormant in the human mindset and goes in and out of dormancy when the situation occurs that one must pretend to be in reasonable agreement or friendly acquaintance with another while in direct contact with them. Behind closed doors, the dormant Alter Ego becomes what I call the “Devious Character.”
The Devious Character whispers or boasts his or her evil to others who share the same devious characteristics. There is usually a triad that occurs within this “organization.” The grunt is the lowest of the triad which loves to gossip. They also love to listen to gossip and then give an attitude when confronted about their slander. The Wing is the middle man or woman who loves to exaggerate the truth therefore creating the gossip that gets passed around by the grunt. The head shitter is the lead reason why fights tend to be the resolution. They love to talk shit to the face of the victim. Love to become involved in the relationships of others then create stories that slander the couple. They love to cause a scene loves to be noticed. The reason they talk is because she knows that people listen.
To be continued