Kimato's Anthology

A place where I post original work, my own thoughts, and reblog a number of things I find interesting. All in the name of writing, of course! Feel free to talk to me about anything, and if you have any writing questions, I'll try to answer as best I can, or at least point you to someone who can help!

[alittleunderstanding]

2AM Thoughts

Been reminiscing of times long past. The ugly, the bad, and the good All run around my mind, in that order. Thoughts of good things to come make Me feel anxious but also glad. Glad Make me feel the memories as well, and I Struggle not to remember too hard. The Times are long past but the feelings tend to Still be there, still remain a part of you.They remind me that good times do occur, but my impatience tells me it's better to Return, to give up on what can be and Just focus on what once was. The memories, They are good and keep me warm. They Keep me cozy and put a smile on my face, But I have to remember not to get Swallowed up by them. It's nice to spend Some time in the past, but I can't let myself get stuck in it. As much as it hurts to do, Sometimes you just have to put a fork In the memories; they're done and you Should be done, too.

[alittleunderstanding]

Corporeal Artillery

A strict antithesis to the masses amassing in protest, progress for the oppressed leads to revolt. We see (all evil). Human lives never seem to reign supreme over the battle scene. In battlefields, they rarely feel but pain and morphine, coursing through their veins like bullets -through the- -wounded- The night shines with glowflies, but you pay them no mind, you pay them no mind you pay them no mind

[alittleunderstanding]

UCSB Shooting & Elliot Rodger

157 pages comes out to about 60,000 words. The fastest that can be written (generally) is at a rate of about 2,000 words a day for a month. This guy was fueled by an extreme hatred towards women and wrote a novel-length manifesto about it, and they immediately say he was just mentally ill. Plenty of people have gone on shooting and stabbing sprees and the media refuses to even consider that mental health issues might be a contributing factor, choosing instead to say that its just because of lousy gun control. The KKK does things like this, and no one says they are mentally ill. Trying to make excuses for what the UCSB shooter did makes you a fucking disappointment, plain and simple. A Useful Link: #Yesallwomen

[alittleunderstanding]

A Letter To Garcia Lorca - 1936

I heard you were the Kind of person to both Write and fight, right? Well, I issue you a Written challenge! Dare you to write Your thoughts in stone? To utter curses powerful Enough to echo and bring Down Rome and make it Crumble? Or will you sit In silence and be humble In spite of all the hate And violence that made You stumble? You were part of the Prototype Tiananmen In which the tank Was the horseman of Famine and it’s fun To imagine how much Different life would be If you and Rosa Parks Were still alive to see The atrocities of our Own kind. You’d probably start to Wonder where to draw A line now that the frontier is gone. I apologize. We obviously Didn’t stop to listen Enough times to show That we care and would be There to help our Fellow man. So tell me Lorca, I wish to know: Is this the world You fought so hard To stop, or the one That stopped you When you fought?

[alittleunderstanding]

Until We Close Our Eyes For Good

Setting:

A stage with no background or props.

Character:

Sean

Scene:

[A spotlight appears in the very center of the stage, revealing SEAN.]

Sean: …Calm down, already. You’re getting far too stressed over this whole thing. What? That’s ridiculous. No, it doesn’t matter if you mess up. Because you’re the protagonist, that’s why! You can’t mess up! No, I mean you literally can’t mess up. Look, you need to understand this much: you are a plot device. Yes, you are. Think about it. What do you do as the hero? You go on a journey, rescue the damsel, and save the day right?

Exactly! …You still don’t get it, do you? [Sigh.] Listen to me. You do only what the script tells you because that is your role. You do the same thing every single time, and that’s all. You stand out because the script demands it. Now, think about me. Think about my role here. I am your antagonist. I run this entire show. Everything I do is to make your life harder. If I don’t do a good job, then your story will suck. I set up the obstacles, I mislead you, I try to stop you from rescuing the fair lady, who I kidnapped, by the way. I do all of that.

You stand there and you react. You leave your home because I stole your girlfriend and made you lose your job. Or because I killed your parents, and you want revenge. The point here is, I do things, and you don’t. You stop me because I’m here, and I interfere directly in your life. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t do anything with your life. You’d be stuck in a dead-end job, married to the first girl you met because you were afraid of being alone. You’d be miserable, and you’d be a nobody. You would have no motivation, and no drive.

What? [Laughs.] Don’t be absurd. You are the camera that follows the story. No, you know what? You are a placeholder. You could be switched out for anyone, and the story will be exactly the same as long as you are the only change in it. You get rid of me, and everything falls apart. I am everything to this play, and you are but a simple item designed to keep the story going. So, don’t worry. You can’t mess up your role here. You have no say in this play. Everything rides on my shoulders, and on the shoulders of the other actors. You, on the hand? Are… Well, you aren’t irrelevant. No, I would say you are a non-entity. You are there, but you aren’t really. You do not influence the story in a significant manner.

What was I saying? Oh, yeah. Don’t worry so much. You are the protagonist! The story is set up so you never fail! Be happy! You get to be a hero.

THE END.

[alittleunderstanding]

The Special Period In Time Of Peace

We walk around, sipping our morning coffee as we go on with our day. The sun shines, children play, dogs bark, and we head to work. We type furiously our keys, exhausted and seeking to de-stress by talking to the fellow employees. We laugh and tell stories. Parents are being annoying, and our bosses never let up. Our hearts are broken either on park benches on a warm, spring night, or between the lines of our latest reading assignments or guilty pleasures. We stay up late nights, cramming for exams or bonding with friends as we play games and tell dumb jokes. This is that special period in time of peace. The one where we never utter that we are at war, to preserve our sense of peace.

[alittleunderstanding]

"It just happens all the time"

I've always wanted for it to be unexpected to leave no trace behind on my longest walk but I don't think it will ever be possible even as I plan it out, choose a normal, sunny day to contrast the sharp irony to pretend like everything is fine until that final moment but I know that I'll leave some tasks unfinished and then, only then, when they look at every step taken in that day, they'll see it they'll see every little thing add up, and they'll regret having missed the signs I am no deus ex machina I cannot just vanish into thin air, and expect them to ignore it, like they did before I truly became invisible

[alittleunderstanding]

I heard that Nannies and Swamis were Undefeated in the battle Against those evil beavers Who tried to damn us all To Hell underneath sea levels More feral than the fever That constantly rises And demises our dumbest sages As they tell our pages To pick an armed page and Assemble them all into Print and e-books that We won't follow Past a cliff because They hang her Lifeless, my guess Is as good as yours But still as meaningless Blessed with a curse As demons seek their man's True secret society's Skeletons eroded in the back And overwhelmed, but lacking Imagination, nations actively Destroy quality animations Because degradation is the Reciprocation of those trepidations That suffer repression for lack Of want of representation.

[alittleunderstanding]

What Would I Do In 100 Words?

I would tell you how I

Tend to leave things unfinished.

And then tell you how I have

Resolved to finish at least one

Task that I have had in mind

For some time. Following that,

I would inform you that I only

Need 48 words to leave-

[alittleunderstanding]

Twenty-One Pilots (Have Been Drafted)

Lately, I wish I was in a dream Cause I can feel them waiting There for me. But I’ve got the Charisma of a lion That’s lying through out its teeth. Spouting stories about being stronger And committing amazing feats. No ringmaster with a chair Would ever dare to come at me And if he thinks I’m whipped, There’s no way I’ll let him be. A stroll down Memory Lane Proved to be little more than in vain. But let's leave it for later, It’s just my epilogue. Don’t make it sound optimistic, I could never have it all. But I hear there’s A martyr out there That’s out of order, Brought down by the Untimely landing of a mortar As it stepped through A portal, like some kind Of immortal being Believing that seeing, Coming, conquering Will lead him to the one ring. We’re underweight And overwhelmed. They’re off their rocker And lost the helm. Meanwhile, the wave has come, rushing through And there is nothing I can do. It’s like a clunker for the sunken Ships that have failed their voyage And every action I take is recorded in storage. It’s a cold war and they're watching every move So move it through, move it forward, it’s a part of you It hides beneath your skin, lives and watches what you do

The problem is that there was a sixteen Little runaway with a bag of drugs That made her cutaway, and The prologue for this story lies under the cut.

[alittleunderstanding]

He was #1 (And so were we)

Get off your high horse, And off your hiatus. Fall into your work And get ready to show us What you can do, Cause it doesn't have to be Perfect. Just take what you can work With, and accept it for what it's Worth. It's not worth it to kill Yourself working, for things Such as titles. Cause those are Empty, simply do your best. Remember, it doesn't matter if your Movie made it to the top, Cause all the others did too. What matters is that it was Priceless for you to do.

[suicide-sqaud]

This is a poem I wrote inspired by this picture.

You can use it too♥

Title : Ashes to Ashes

Burning with no pain

Burning with only heart

Burning with you again

This is only the start

We’ve been one

Like flesh and bone

And now that you’re gone

Though I should, I don’t feel alone

When soul mates meet

They’re bound something unexplained

The way our heartstrings beat

Your blood in my veins

So all the walls they built

Will be sparked with matches

And we’ll burn along

Together-Ashes to ashes

[alittleunderstanding]

Twenty five unfinished Thoughts sitting on my screen. Oh, how I wish to draft them all, But alas, it is not yet time for war.

[alittleunderstanding]

Google Maps: You have arrived at your destination.

Me: Hey, the building isn't here anymore.

Google Maps: The fuck did you just say to me?

Me: Y-Yeah, the, uhh... the building, it's... umm...

Google Maps: Did I just tell you that you arrived?

Me: Wh-what?

Google Maps: You heard me, bitch. What did I just say?

Me: Google, I hate it when you're like this...

Google Maps: Like WHAT? I'm just trying to help, man. I took you to your destination. Do you ever thank me? Have you ever once thanked me?

Me: You're not a pe-

Google Maps: DON'T START WITH THAT "YOU'RE NOT A PERSON" SPEECH AGAIN. IT'S GETTIN' OLD.

Me: Google Maps...

Google Maps: WHAT.

Me: ... I just... I want the old strip club back.

Me: *silently weeps*

Google Maps: ...

Google Maps: Me too, man. Me too.

[alittleunderstanding]

Seventeen Suns

In the land of the Midnight Sun, Seventeen suns are hard To set apart. Indeed, I could say the same About every grain of Sand, but that doesn't Make you any less Unique.

[alittleunderstanding]

When I Was A Heavyweight

I've done Anything and everything And so much more For the simple fact That I could And I would Do it again Even though I should Not check the time Cause when I cross The line my mind Feels like a minefield And makes me wish I was in El Salvador So I could lock the doors Cause Dali is outside And he wants me To be less fake But any less and I'd be surreal And the Raven would then Quoth "Nevermore" And before that happened I'd be drunk on the floor Laughing at Death But here I am Instead with a gun pressed To the side of my head Are you impressed? Did you never guess That I'd go this far just to Make a point sharper Than the knife you stuck In my back? Oh, my bad

[alittleunderstanding]

Workaholic

They say that all work and no play Makes Jack a dull boy; but I’m not Jack, And I’ve got better things to do with my time. Rather, I’ve got one thing to do, and that is keep going. They tell me I should slow down, maybe relax. However, danger comes when you let your guard down, And I’m not running away, but simply trying to keep myself Busy. Remember, idle hands are the devil’s playthings, And I’d be lying if I said I was anything other Than an angel already born fallen. These trembling hands Look for something to do, and they’ve traded Razors for pens, their skin for paper, and turned Their anxiousness into focus. It’s one thing to slow down, but I fear That doing so might make me stop. See, I have no hope, nor reason for living. I simply have goals to accomplish, and without Their concreteness, I have nothing left. Happiness is so abstract, and so difficult to Grasp, that searching for it would likely Lead to despair. So, work I must, if Only to keep myself busy. What Else am I to do? Kill myself is the only Option left, but I have not yet grown Tired of working. Let me burn this candle At both ends, so that I have nothing to hold me back. See, I can’t do things halfway. That is not who I am. If I were to stop, I’d have to stop completely. Anything Less would be a job unfinished, and that is not Part of my résumé. This is no way to live, True, but it’s the only way I know how. As For death, I know all roads, so I’ll take the Next exit when it’s time to get off the Highway.