To be fair, it was cold out that night

by Jonathan Super

During some cold night on a boardwalk in any shore town two men stand unmotivated.  They talk about topics of no particular importance. “Don’t you think the word “fair” is kind of a strange?”  “What do you mean?”  “I mean, everyone talks about what it means to be fair, so, I was bored and I looked it up.”  “Uh huh.”  “It basically means beautiful, but it can also mean something unblemished or pure, so for something to be fair, that thing must be pure, unblemished, totally free of bias.  This holds the word at a pretty high standard.”  “Okay.  So what?”  “So, I just thought that, for something to be fair, an idea that is related to purity and beauty, anything unfair or foul, must be related to something unclean, gross, vile and corrupt.  Which means to accuse somebody of being unfair, the accuser must first understand unfairness is a strong accusation and that they are making a point that has some strength in it.  Making someone seem impure and bias carries a heavy weight.”  “So you think people don’t understand the word?”  “I guess so.  Most people don’t give a shit about anything but their own well being, so instead they throw words around for either their own advancement, the destruction of another, or just for some attention.”  “Nobody uses the word that way, so what’s the difference?”  “The difference is that they are wrong, but there is something else interesting about it.  Since the word means beautiful, I was figuring that ugly people must get a raw deal.”  “Okay.”  “I mean, since they embody the image of unfair, ugly people must have a higher frequency of being seen as unfair, corrupt, vile, nasty, shitty fucks.  Whereas beautiful people get away with whatever they want because it’s only fair for the fair to be fair, you know?”  “Alright, fine, that’s a little too meta for me.  Turn away, I got to take a piss.”  The man turns away while the other takes his penis out and pisses between rails along the boardwalk. “You done, it’s cold.”  “Yeah.”  “I’m going home.”  “Wait.  One thing.  My dick almost got stuck to the railing like a tongue to a metal pole.”  “That would be unfair for sure.”  “Real funny wordsmith; anyway, let’s tell everyone that it did get stuck and you had to run and get warm water, then pour it over my frozen dick.”  “I don’t think people will believe it.” “Just go with it.”  “Alright.” Walking away to their cars leaving one penis story heavier than before while one conversation will die while waiting to be recalled.

Tender Little Mushpots

by Eric Guaschino

What is Perspective?

"The relationship of aspects of a subject to each other and to a whole"

"Subjective evaluation of relative significance"

"A mental view or outlook"

Which in Layman Terms, means that we could both be standing in the sun, and from my perspective, the sun could feel warm, and refreshing, but to you, it could be hot and oppressive.

Q.   So, if 2 people have different perspectives about the same thing/event/time period, which one is correct?

 

A.   Both are correct, since we each dwell in multiple realities concurrently, we are in turn, subject to a nearly infinite variety of perspectives, and can do little to gain true insight as to how we are actually perceived.

For instance, say you have recently ended a relationship, and like most, endured good times and bad times.. say you only remember the good times, and all the bad ones were quickly forgotten.  Does that mean it was a good relationship?  Absolutly not ! It simply means that your psyche has chosen that particular memory set as your "reasoning shield" so when people ask what went wrong you can plead innocence and victim... what about the person that only remembers the bad times?  Same fukn answer fool!  Our minds have been trained (by us) to protect us from things... usually the truth, because nothing hurts our tender little mushpots like a good dose of truth.  So, in order to protect ourselves from the harsh realities of truth, we conveniently invented.. you guessed it. The idea of  PERSPECTIVE.

 

Perspective tells me that I am cool as fuck, and it tells me you are somewhat of a douche bag.  Which will protect me from the possibility that you really aren't a douche bag (because I really am cool as fuck).

So my point in blabbering all of this nonsensical bullshite....is to remind you not to be taken in by the perspectives of others. Because many of us have become submissive, submissive to perspective, yours, and even fucking worse... others!

Try to understand, that no matter how you feel about a situation, most likely, you're fuckin wrong... and wrong in a huge way. We have become so professional at lying to ourselves we don't even think past our initial response most of the time anymore.  Many people know I have had some perspective issues for a few months.. my perspective tells me that you all suck for the most part.. and most of you disagree.  That is just your perspective protecting you from the truth.....

 

Just sorta kidding, remember this though kiddies.. when you trust in somebody else's perspective, you are granting them ultimate authority over you.  Don't be such a spineless worm.  Don't allow the words and opinions of others to have power over you.. laugh at them, tell em to fuck off, and maybe even fold their nose a little to remind them of their inferiority, and go about your business.  You want to be number 1?  You gotta get past my reality first, bitch.

"Perception is Reality"

The Scent of Prey (The Wish Chapter 2)

by Robert Bowen

The wind blew so subtly that the trees gave nearly no indication that it wasn’t as still and quiet as the night settling in around the small cabin. So isolated and haunting standing all alone in this weathered, old section of the woods. The scent of prey was in the air nonetheless. Noticeable to any true predator. The soft candlelight which fluttered against the wall inside, tossing an uneven, inconsistent glow against the window pane extinguished. Game on...

The woods around the cabin were bathed in darkness as the candle inside went out. What little moonlight managed to break through the tangled mass of tree branches that reached high into the sky dotted the forest floor in places. Dylan Westing’s boot stepped into one such spot grinding the remains of his cigarette into the damp earth and soggy leaves. Still carrying the remnants of the rain that fell the night before.

Dylan was glad that the weather was clear tonight. He had had his fill of the cool, wet nights among the aged, silent forest inhabitants over the past week as he hid among them. Studying her. Learning. He admired her isolated location deep alone in the woods. Knew those desires to be away from the city and the vermin that roamed its streets. Vermin whose blood often decorated the ends of his blades and his longing, excited hands.

A vision of his last victim flashed before his eyes as he took another step towards the cabin, and a sick smile tore its way across his face. He thought of the dandelion and the wish that was carried away by the wind. Before he knew it, he was making his way on to the old wooden boards of the porch that  wrapped halfway around the front of the cabin.

His mind snapped back to tonight’s pressing satisfaction, treading lightly to ensure the boards would not announce his presence before he was ready. He carefully crept to the door and begun the tedious process of picking the lock.

He gingerly pushed the door open, pulling up against it to silence the otherwise restless hinges, and he stepped inside. Eagerly he angled in the direction his nights outside among the trees told him Carolyn LaVencia would now be fast asleep.

Suddenly the sharp pain exploding through the back of his head poured darkness into his vision washing the shapes of the cabin’s main room from his view as consciousness left him. His body landing roughly against the floor with a thud. Amateurs, Carolyn thought with a slight laugh watching her prey twitch on the ground before her.

Dylan woke with a start as the water splashed on his face, pulling hard against the unyielding chains binding his wrists together and stretched high above his head. For the first time he actually saw into the eyes of the women he thought was to be his victim and he knew...tonight he would experience the nature of a true predator.