Again...

Yet again, I make a gross misjudgment of character.

The relationship with my girlfriend is at a rather sorry crossroads and is looking down the path of not good. I have to focus on school. She demands I focus on her. It's either one or the other, and she's simply not that important.

It's to the point that I'm not even allowed to sleep anymore it seems. I was up at 2:30 last night because she wouldn't go to bed. She had to complain and piss and bitch and whine and moan about what I'm not doing. IE paying attention to her.

Am I being selfish? For school? Yes. Everything else is simply self defense. She blew up. I went into defense mode.

So now she's turning into an almost 20 year old with the mind of a five year old. It's very, very irritating. *sigh*

I'm not a Christian. So what?

I've never until recently had an experience where being a Christian really mattered. What, is it some sort of secret club? You have to "believe" in Jesus Christ just to get in? "Believe" that he's our "Lord and Savior"? Seriously... give me a break. How many people are "Christian" and don't give a good god damn about it? But ohhh, you say the lord's name in vain and they hate you forEVER. Who cares if they're cheating on their wife with the neighbors underage daughter? They're "Christian", and therefore they are "Good People".

Just recently I was told by a girl who I am currently on hiatus (IE dating) with that she wanted to "Save" me. It didn't hit me at first the full meaning of what she had said. What "Save" says to me, is something along the lines of a Christian Intervention so that my eternal immortal soul can be saved by invoking the name of Jesus and letting him into my heart.

Well, guess what. Jesus, first and foremost, was a mortal. I believe that he existed. I do not dispute his actions and his sacrifice. I admire him for what he did. But he was a mortal, just like me. People constantly go on and on about how he sacrificed his life to remove all of our sins, but forget about the teachings he had before he died. What happened to all of his words? His wisdom? His goodwill? Oh! Who gives a shit! He DIED FOR OUR SINS THATS MORE IMPORTANT. That means I can go out and rape and pillage and kill and destroy and have sex with GOATS and I'll still get into heaven because JESUS DIED FOR MY SINS. See? It's like a "Get out of hell free" card.

So again. Which is more important. His death? Or his LIFE?
I follow what he taught quite closely. I follow the Two Commandments and I consider myself to be a lot more true to Jesus' words of wisdom than a vast majority of "Christians". I've also done what many others believe to be blasphemy. I've experimented. I used to be pagan. Before that, I was wiccan. Before that, I was atheist. I've slowly found my path and questioned my faith. I never just 'accepted' that God was there, or just 'accepted' that Jesus and his gospels were any sort of 'true word of God'. No. I fought my way to where I am today.

I refuse to consider myself Christian because the vast majority of them are nothing but whiny bitches. "HELP! HELP! WE'RE BEING REPRESSED!"--Says the majority. They are Sunday Christians. Throughout the week they are assholes, some hit their wives (especially those damned Baptists), some do horrible things to their bodies with drugs and alcohol, some sit and do nothing and turn fat and disgusting, and some steal and cheat and rape. But HEY! They go to CHURCH on Sunday and they allow JESUS into their hearts. I find that being a Christian is for the most part, more of an excuse to be bad, than a reason to be good.

I refuse to be Catholic because I think that Priests and Altar Boys are just... well. Sick. Hey, why don't you let your damned priests marry so they can have VAGINAL sex with full grown women, instead of ANAL sex with young prepubescent boys?

I refuse to be pretty much any religion, because to be of any one religion, you have to succumb to the beliefs of the many. You must join the flock. You must not have your own opinion on how you would like to talk to God. You must allow someone else to do it for you. You must be a pawn. A lowly, insignificant, pawn.

With the experiences that I have had throughout my life, such as angelic encounters and some rather frightening dreams in the same medium, I know that there is a power beyond our understanding. I know that there is a God. I know that there are Angels--I have seen them. I have seen two of them to be exact. My guardian, and another who branded a Golden Sword--no clue who that would be, and I don't care to know either. To me it's not that big of a deal. I find it as more of an acceptance thing than a "OMG I SAW ANGELS WOWWW" thing.

Does me formerly being Pagan or Wiccan change how good of a person I am? No. Does my experimentation in what Christians have brandished as the "Dark Arts" change how good of a person I am? No. As Christians believe, God has a plan for all of us. So if there truly is any "one" faith, and that it is supposedly Christianity, then obviously God wanted me to experiment.

I've done what Christians refuse to do. I have questioned my faith. I have questioned it many, many times in my life. I take the matter incredibly seriously, despite always keeping it to myself (at least until recently... I guess). I KNOW now who I am. I KNOW now what is out there. I understand and don't question it anymore. Yet... if I'm not Christian, then obviously I'm talking to the "wrong God".

This infuriates me to no end. Not to the point of bloodshed however, because only religions do that. Me? I've just got my Faith.

So fuck American Christianity. It's the only country I've been to where they talk the talk and don't walk the walk.

I don't need a multimillion dollar church, a pastor with a different color car for every day of the week, and a cathedral (or in this day and age, mega colloseum) full of people who show up in their most expensive attire, their most expensive car, and most expensive jewelry just so that they can prove how wealthy they are.

I'm going to go carry on with my life knowing this, and I'll be so much better off than the majority for it.

An Editorial on Being Human

Most humans are out to find someone that completes them in a way that benefits both parts equally. This is for the sake of eternal happiness, eternal glory, eternal love, and eternal good will. At least, it is that in theory. Whether or not each creature finds itself a suitable mate, the pursuit of that mate will continue until that warm feeling of love, trust, eternal devotion, emotional security is found.

Like most, I am out looking for the mayfly known as love. Alright, so I stole that line from Vash the Stampede, what do you care? The meaning still rings true. I have made real attempts at finding that true happiness only to fail every time. I have discovered that I can give and give all I can, but if all they do is take and take, how am I supposed to find happiness? Where is the return?

Bear in mind, I’m not trying to sound bitter or anything. I’m a happy guy, very busy just like everyone else. I don’t repress much of anything and I let it all hang out so to speak. Yes, I do have clothes on as I write this. Even if I didn’t I wouldn’t share with the rest of you. Perverts, yeesh.

A relationship is an equal balance--an equal balance of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual effort. Where there is love given, that love must be returned in full. Where there is physical love given, you’d better hope it’s getting returned in full, otherwise you might as well be with a rock or a hole in the wall (I.E. Inanimate Object). If you’ve got the money, a blow up doll. Anyways, when conversation is started, it should be continued, unless someone is pissy. If that is the case, call everything off and go play video games.

Over the course of time, trust is built up. Dependency is brought in later when a couple realizes that they can’t live without one another. You will know this when you are away for more than five days and you still miss your significant other. If you don’t miss them, then there’s nothing there and you should go onto greener pastures, or perhaps a new golf course with another 18 holes to put your balls into. Hey, whatever floats your boat, folks.

Talk. Talking is very important in a relationship. The willingness to open your mouth and let whatever it is that’s in there froth out like vomit or pixie dust (depending on your mood) is a sure sign that you are willing to open up yourself. Vulnerability is a sign that you trust your significant other. When they take that vulnerability and stomp it on purpose, then you have got issues. Quite a few issues.

Listen. If you can talk, you can listen, too. Whenever your other half decides that they’re pissed off about something, you damn well better listen or else you might get handed your hat. If they’re really mean, they’ll hand you a hat and no undies in the middle of winter. So cold…

Argue. By god, ARGUE. If you don’t argue, you’re screwed. Besides, the make-up ‘unf unf unfing’ is always a plus. If you don’t, then all of that adrenaline from the argument just goes to waste and you end up with holes in the wall.

Cuddle. Oh yeah. If you wanna call me a sap for this go ahead. I certainly won’t be curling up with you. Don’t neck (for at least a few minutes) once you’ve started cuddling. We all know that spooning leads to forking, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy that few minutes as your bodies grow into the mood. ;D

Make love not war. That’s right. Do it in the car, in the living room, in the bedroom, on the bathroom sink (provided it’s clean), on the off balance washer, out in the middle of the woods (when there’s no ticks), and occasionally in public (where nobody can see you of course). The thrill should be more than enough to keep you going. It’s highly enjoyable, stress relieving, etc. Also, make sure you spoon immediately afterwards, even if you’re still drenched and sweat and… other… stuff. Oh, and for goodness sakes, experiment! Just because you like ‘virgo’ and ‘aquarius’ for positions, doesn’t mean that that’s all you should do. Get inventive. Have fun. That’s the entire point of it.

Lower your guard, but not too quickly. If your other half can’t get in because you won’t let them, they cannot really be there for you. You have to be able to let them in. Don’t wait for a long time to do it. If you wait for too long your other half may feel that you do not share their feelings and feel as though they’ve been wasting their time trying to mate with a cold and dead rock. Cold and dead rocks aren’t exactly the most hospitable things in the world.

Protect those that you love. This is where you make war not love. Do I need to go any further? If necessary, buy a gun, a sword, a knife, a tape dispenser, a squigi, a staple puller, a rubber band, or even your very own fists, feet, teeth, skull, kneecaps, or a mixture of all of the above. Know and understand that the human body is an incredibly fragile piece of bio-machinery. It doesn’t take very much to completely dispatch another human if they are trying to hurt you. Just remember, you have love on your side, whereas they only have hate. Hate blinds. Love is tranquility like the flowers in the breeze unless you are allergic to flowers, in which case you can simply substitute honey or something else sweet and tasty.

Be humble, but don’t be humbled. Be modest. You should understand that if you are as close to someone as is implicated in the previous paragraphs.

Acknowledge that in a relationship you must know when to be flexible. (That goes both mentally & physically wink wink). Sometimes, your opinion doesn’t matter. When there is something that “MUST BE DONE” you must take the lead and be damned with the consequences when it pans out. If your other half doesn’t understand why or how or wtf? you did it, then you can explain once it’s done. Don’t waste time sitting around explaining it if it’s a life or death issue. Here are a couple of examples:

Ex1. “RUN! RUN!” He screamed at her as the man with the gun shot him twice in the chest, thankfully missing anything too important. The man with the gun only got two shots off before he sunk his knife into his belly and his teeth sunk into the man’s throat tearing out his larynx. She called the police as she managed to get to the other room and ran out of the house with the cell phone to get as far away as possible as he had commanded of her.


Ex2. “RUN! RUN!” He screamed at her, but she didn’t move.
“Bullshit, what do you think you’re going to do? Stab him in the stomach and tear his larynx out with your teeth?”
“Babe, I know we think alike and all, but now he’s just going to shoot us both.” With that, Ken and Barbie both died from well placed gunshot wounds to the heads.

Now, you see how that works? Funny how listening to your other half can get you out of trouble, isn’t it? That’s pretty damned important if you ask me. Now bear in mind this DOES work both ways. Here are another couple of examples.

Ex1. “I THOUGHT I FUCKING TOLD YOU TO TAKE OUT THE TRASH!” She screamed at him.
“Yes dear.”

Ex2. “I THOUGHT I FUCKING TOLD YOU TO TAKE OUT THE TRASH!” She screamed at him.
“Yes dear.”

Sure, the trash might not be a life and death situation, but jesus, if you wait that long for her to get THAT pissed, you deserve to get screamed at, bar none.

Your sense of humor can do many things. It can get you into trouble. It can get you out of trouble. It can amplify situations of both previous situations into very negative or positive stances. If you lack a sense of humor of any kind, or repress it, you are at high risk of being overly quiet, uninvolved, and closed off. Usually, the better the sense of humor, the more open you are. Although this isn’t always the case, there are other circumstances that go with these things. So that’s not really all that true (not always).

Basically… Laugh. Laugh a lot. Laugh as much as you can. Giggle. Giggle with glee. Chuckle. Gurgle, accidentally blow milk out your nose, etc. Have fun.

Life is here so that we can enjoy it. We are not supposed to be miserable all of our lives. Anybody who thinks that the point of life is to be miserable, destitute, lonely, upset, sad, or lacking emotion, is missing out on life itself and might as well be lacking a soul.

The worst thing you can do in a relationship is be inflexible. This time I mean it in the non “unf-unf-unf” sense. A relationship isn’t just a relationship. It’s a business relationship. It’s a spiritual relationship. It’s an emotional relationship. And it’s a physical relationship. In business, you negotiate. In spirituality, you pray, or meditate together. In an emotional relationship, you laugh and cry together. In a physical relationship you go unf-unf, you hug, you kiss, you cuddle. You touch, you feel. When you combine everything, you have something grand.

Most people unfortunately, cannot think past themselves. This is where I’m going to go into the bit about our society that has basically dragged us down into the dirt. Everything has to be perfect. All girls must look like Brittany Spears to be hot. You must have a ghetto booty, you must have boobs that are C34 or better. You must have a wang that’s a foot long and you must be a porn star. You must drive a nice car. You must have nice teeth. You must have perfect hair and skin and lips and ….what the hell happened to originality and being unique? It seems to me that the only people who are original these days are the ones that aren’t the trendy little retards and are thus the scorn of society. In this sense, bums have a better life than anyone else. At least they are unique in themselves.

Another complaint is that people are too whiny, complainy, untrusty, and more… ‘y’ things that I can’t quite think of at the moment. It’s rather ridiculous, if you ask me. Of course, that’s probably because we understand that ‘everyone is out to get us’ in this day and age. You can’t pick up hitchhikers because they ‘might’ kill you. You can’t help out strangers because they might be con artists out to get your money. What ever happened to doing things for the sake of being a good person?

This of course brings it all the way back to the relationship thing. Do things for the sake of being a good person. Cherished moments, and love will follow in its wake. Party on Garth.
Party on Wayne.

-Olympian

The Silence Breaks

But only for a moment.

I have been a busy bee, to say the least. I have working on my car.

Stripped it down
primed
sanded
primed
sanded
primed
sanded
painted
painted again
clearcoated
wetsanded
clearcoated
wetsanded
clearcoated,
going to be buffing.
Plus, I did the belts, the water pump, upper engine mount, and I'll also be replacing fuel hoses. Busy beaver indeed.

Ontop of that, I've got a full time girlfriend, and a full time job, too.

I live my life by a code.

I know that many people do not, since I see it all the time. People lie. People cheat. People steal. People betray. People hurt others. People demoralize, chastise, and they continue to do so because 'they're right'.

Why?

I tend to use myself as an example with topics such as this for a couple of reasons, one of which is that I don't truly 'know' any of you here enough to use any of you as examples, and the other I won't go into to keep this thread mostly clean.

I am an ideologist. I 'know' how society should be. I see ways it could change. Unfortunately, I can also see why it will not. All I can really do is make the difference in my own life, lead by my own convictions and beliefs. If people really want the change they can follow me where I lead them.

People will always do what they do. That is what they are taught to do. As values and morality leaves our society day by day through the use of advertising, or crap on the TV, and as more and more children are raised by the TV instead of by a parent or two,

We have young girls that are now dressing up like hookers to go to school, as young as the age of five. Tube tops, short shorts/skirts, etc. Why? Their mother who believes it to be the norm thinks it's "cute". Meanwhile, her little girl is abducted a month later, molested, and killed because it caught some pervert's eye.

I'm not saying dressing slutty is bad, because back in highschool I greatly enjoyed getting sneak peeks up girls skirts, and the sometimes that they weren't wearing anything underneath just made my day. But those girls were at least 14-18, and developed, and blossoming into full adults. They're expected to have horomones that match the clothing. Plus, I was in highschool with a raging hard on the entire time, and also 14-17.

Comon.. dressing your five year old like shes fifteen? Is there not a limit anymore? I was at Home Depot about two months ago with my girlfriend. We walked by a woman who had three little girls. One wasn't older than nine or ten. One was in diapers, and the other was maybe five. They were dressed like little prostitutes. I made the comment to my girlfriend that that woman was in for a world of trouble later, since she's already dressing her little girls up as prostitutes. My girlfriend made responded with, "well, they were just checking you out and giving me dirty looks."

You see, there is something very wrong with that picture. I understand that instincts are instincts and boys and girls regardless of age think about breeding. And I understand that it was harmless for them to do what they did. But the fact that they were dressed as they were made it dirty, instead of innocent.

You also have the food issue. Nine year olds with tits, and are ragging? There's something a bit wrong about that. The horomones we put into our foods are the prime cause of that. Our water supply being the second. I'm rather curious as to why nothing is being done about that.

What do I see as something we can change here?
The easiest thing would of course be the parents. Quit dressing your kids up as hookers and gangsters. Explain to them what the pop-culture is, and if they follow it, they're nothing but pawns and brainless idiots spending their money on gold teeth, breast implants, and Cadillac Escalades. Explain to them that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. The cover of the book is not the book. And trying to be 'as pretty as everyone on TV' is exactly that. "Trying to be pretty as everyone on TV".

Teach your kids the foundation morals in life. Don't just send them to church to 'learn the gospel', especially since church in our country is getting to be a normal 'business', similar to Wal-Mart or Lowe's. Let them know that religion is not an excuse for any crime they may commit. Their actions will fall back on you. Their dishonorable acts will dishonor you. Their honor will honor you. Make them know that the better things they do, the more proud you will be. Teach them responsibility. Teach them the values of society. Teach them that it is always better to take the first hit than to give the first, but to never take the last. Teach them courage. Teach them the things that TV won't, and cannot, and never will beyond the 'moral of the story' notes.

Where are we as a society now? If somebody says that they are 'moral and just' because they 'go to church', I want to reach out and slap them. You are never moral and just, just because you believe in Jesus Christ, or Allah, or Muhammed, or David.
It doesn't matter what church you go to. It doesn't matter what your religion says. What matters is your actions. What matters is that your actions hurt nobody. What matters is that your morality, your values, your sense of honor, and your sense of the truth & justice remains steadfast.

What else has been lost?

Shame.

People feel no shame for anything they do anymore. They have sex with a married woman and feel no shame. They shoot someone and feel no shame. They steal and feel no shame. They cheat on their husbands or wives and feel no shame. There's no reason for us to have lost this, and it's absolutely terrible that we even could.

I was nine years old when I did five finger discount. I didn't feel shame. When I saw the look on my Dad's face and realized that I had hurt him, I felt shame. I dishonored him by what he did. And he made damn sure that I knew it afterwards.

Kids are shameless these days. People no longer take responsibility for their actions. Those that do are never remembered. And people who take responsibility for other's shortfalls are even moreso.

Our country's greatest strength is also its greatest weakness. Freedom of speech. Consitutionallly, it protects what is most important to us, but it also protects those that market and spread propaghanda for their own benefit. I would never change our constitution, and I love it just how it is. Infact, I cannot do anything. Nothing except set an example in my own life.

I can only hope others follow.

Living in a free society is the best thing there is. You can talk when you want. Walk when you want. Drive when you want. Defend yourself how you want.

For the sake of yourself and those around you... you could at least live a good and moral life. You could quit dressing your kids like you see them on tv. You could start explaining to your kids that tv is not reality, and 'reality' shows are not reality. You could do your part to stop the cycle.

You could teach 'honor thy mother and father', and 'be good to all others', and the basic foundations found in pretty much every religion on the planet.

Quit being a fuckup, and get with the program. Thanks.

Dreamscape 04/23/06

I walked up from the street to a large building with small windows. The surroundings were grey and drab. Beaten down. War had apparently happened here recently, citing the artillery shells and whatnot sitting in the middle of the wall. I walked up a staircase to what was left to the insides of what appeared to be some sort of prison. I looked at myself in a mirror, looked around. The surroundings in the mirror were not as hostile looking as they were when you actually looked at them.

As I proceeded down the hallway, I came to a sort of indoor camp. It was well sheltered. It looked kind of like a hobo area. The second I showed my face, there were guns in it. I didn't blink (or at least I don't remember blinking), as they all began to point their weapons at me. I stepped down the stairs towards the two leaders, which I felt as though I recognized. They started screaming at me, asking why I was there. I was a disgrace to them. A traitor. I deserved to die for my crimes.

"You have no right to be here." The bigger one said.

"Leave or we will kill you." Said the other, who appeared slightly younger.

"I am here for other reasons." I said. "This war, has taken a life of its own. I cannot stop it. If I try to stop it, I will surely be killed by those in my own cabinet, and the war would continue to rage while they line their own pockets."

"You lie!" The bigger one said.

"Look at me, young one. I have not even had a chance to bathe in at least two days. Would the man that leads the war from the safety of his own palace allow himself to degenerate in such a way?" I returned.

The younger one had a tear burst from his eye and he raised the gun back up to my head. "YOU MUST DIE!" He screamed.

"Put your gun down. I have come here for reasons of peace." I said softly.

The bigger one also had a tear coming down his left cheek, "then what will you do with us?"

"I want you to help me end this war between us. It is tearing us appart even more than that of a simply feudal family. Others from outside our country line their pockets from greed, and all we do is suffer. Join me, as my two newest advisors, and bodyguards. I want to send a message to the rest of them, and the rest of the world. We are done being pawns." I knelt as I asked again, "Join me, and lets end this, together."

They could have executed me right there, and had their vengeance for my crimes. It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. I knew they were both men of honor, as was I. The problem wasn't my honor, or theirs. The problem was everyone elses. They both lowered their weapons, and so did the other hundred or so with various types of weapons that were trained on me, from pistols to rpg's.

"We will accept your offer. We will say goodbye to our families, and be with you soon. Please, wait in the next hallway, just be careful. It's not our territory."

I don't know why I went ahead and left. As soon as I walked into the next hallway, the entire surroundings changed. It was most definitely a prison of some kind. A very, very high security one. The hallways made a very loud echoing every time I took a step. I was pacing for a few minutes when a door opened and a man dressed in a nurse outfit (a skirt, at that!) walks out of a room, and winks at me.

"Are you one of the two that's coming to come see me?" He asked.

"No, I'm waiting for a couple of people myself." I answered politely.

"Oh, hmm. Such a pity, you're a hot one." He responded, winking again. And he walked into a room that had the red cross on it.

As I continued pacing, two guys, roughly my age (albeit a little younger) came up the stairs and were talking about a "hot babe in a nurses outfit that would do them both." I felt the need to discourage this, and proceeded in their direction. If not, they were both about to get embarassed, or worse.

I only caught one, and I said in a whisper to him "it's not a girl, it's a dude." He turned around and looked at me with a questioning look, in which I returned a very serious look with a nod, and a gesture to get the fuck out before it was too late. The other guy kept walking, and it looked like he had found the door.

I bolted over to him when the dude in the nurse outfit burst out of the door. Impressive makeup, didn't look so much like a guy anymore, but he would only appear female to those that didn't see him a few minutes ago. The 'nurse' was swinging him around as though they were dancing, and whenever he passed I would whisper "That" "is" "a" "dude". The look of shock entered his face as he let go of the nurse, and flew through an open window, screaming.

I walked over to the edge. The nurse asked where he had gone.

"Well, he must have been batman, not buttman." I said, and smiled. The nurse rolled his eyes and darted off in a tissy.

I sat down for a few minutes. I had a cigarillo (not quit a cigarette, not quite a cigar) while I waited. I supposed that they were saying what could possibly be their last goodbyes to their families, if things went down the crapper. I heard a loud smacking noise, like someone had just been slapped across the face, and a spitting sound, then a much heavyier dull thud and the sound of a woman squealing for air.

I got up to investigate. The surroundings became dangerously dark, with hints of dark green, and dark red. My stomach wrenched, and my heart began to beat faster. I looked through the window and I saw a blonde with curly locks. She had obviously just had the hell kicked out of her, and she was getting taken off of a wall as the other started to move a table closer, stepping on a pair of glasses in the process. My eyes widened as I realized what was about to happen, and then I recognized who it was.

I checked the door, and realized that it was bolt-locked from the inside in several places. I was not strong enough to break it down. So I knocked, and grabbed a small hook that wrapped around my knuckles similar to brass knucks. When the door opened, my fist met straight with his face. He stumbled and I kicked him back to the ground as I charged for the other one as he was just about to violate that girl. He jumped back, surprised, scrambling to both pick up his pants, and get his gun off of his belt. I jumped onto the opposite end of the table and leapt from midway to keep from stepping on her.

He was fast. He put a bullet through my left arm, thankfully. I put the hook right into his left eye, knocked him to the ground, and knocked the gun out of his hand. I punched him in the face again, and again, and again. Took the gun and blew his cock off, pointed it to the other guy, and the gun went "click" "click".

I pulled her off of the table and placed her in a corner, and put my coat over her. She was frigid, teeth chattering. Seemed to be mostly unhurt, aside from maybe a couple of cracked ribs. Her eyes bulged as a warning to look behind me. I turned just in time to get hit in the head with a chair. My vision went completely black, and my ears were screaming. Someone grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and threw me against the wall. I couldn't see, and I couldn't hear, but they were right there. I used the hook on my right hand that they hadn't been smart enough to remove yet. I found neck. I grappled with my left, kicked with my right feet. I found nuts, and I kicked again, and again. Then the knee. When I found the table and laid him across it with what I *think* was a left hook (the fist only kind), I tore open his chest cavity and started gutting him while he was still breathing.

The squealing noise as he was trying to stop me, but was too busy trying to live as his blood flooded the table, was something you don't forget. My vision came back to me, and I jolted back in horror as to what I had done to the man. His eyes were wide. I looked around for her, but she was waiting outside in the hallway for me. I walked out, and suddenly I was cleansed. I put away the hook, and we left. I turned one last time to look at the room. It was caked in blood, and guts. She smiled, didn't say anything, and we left.

When we got down to the street, hand in hand, a car was waiting for us. The two men from earlier were inside, waiting. We left.

[Was about to hit what I think was another 'plot device' when I woke up.]

I didn't do my detail any justice. The fight is the part I remember more than anything else. It was a fight of passion, I suppose.

Now if I could just deal with women better, I might have a happier life.

Yay. I have a girlfriend now. Just how long WILL it last? Only time will tell.