In these dark spaces deep in the minds of those who lost themselves in a darkness that can only be described as a unescapable prison of chains cutting into you with no chance of loosening its grip on your reality. All you can see is never ending darkness and the eyes of your monsters taunting your every mistake, dragging you deeper into this darkness until it starts to suffocate you. You begin to choke on this unbreathable smoke that swirls around you as you fall deeper into the abyss. Your lungs try to find oxygen within the smoke, but nothing comes in but the smoke. Your no longer able to breath, and the last thing you see is the faces of the monsters, showing how right they were about you. Weak, helpless and lost into their grasp. Their smiles taunt you as your vision blurrs and everything goes black. Once your this far into the darkness, light can never reach you. Your forever lost in this depression put upon you by the many monsters you meet along your travels through the dark prison. No one can help you, you are one of the lonely.

~Fur_Trash

insanity and i

have been friends

for quite some time.

the closest one to my heart,

i know all her features.

the doubts that poke at every nerve in my body

as i try to sleep.

the worries that laugh at me when my thoughts

pile on top of each other like a snowstorm.

the paranoia that screams in my ears

as i walk through the store, just trying to buy

a few

groceries.

but,

adding to the confusion,

i don’t know who i would be

if i was not

insane.

i’ve been suffocated by her

for

so

long

that i don’t remember how i used to

function

without

a million anxious thoughts.

the butterflies made me

smile and fall deeper for you

but i should’ve realized they were

frantically flapping their beautiful wings

to escape the

murder you would commit

on every fragment of my

beauty.

et le dire au vent pâle nocturne,

cette essence qui subsistes,

des sons doux dans l'obscurité.

quelles villes sont si belles

qu'elles peuvent pas être détruites?

et j'ai détruit;

j'ai tiré de feu de la montagne

comme goliath, comme vesuvius,

la nuit

la pierre a été changée en cendre

dans les bouches des profanes.

l'idée de la fumée est devenue

le son; le remède

que j'ai ramené de

lugano, où la marée a fait

des caricatures des profanes.

et ils sont de nouveau tombés

sous le couteau sombre du vent nocturne.

et ils sont de nouveau saints

et tiennent parole.

scarlet dragonflies

and tell it to the pale night wind,

that lingering essence,

soft sounds in the darkness.

what towns are so fine

that they cannot be destroyed?

and i have destroyed;

i have rained fire from the mountain

like goliath, like vesuvius,

on the night

the stone turned to ash

in the mouths of the laity.

the idea of the smoke has become

the sound; the cure

which i brought home from

lugano, where the tide has made

caricatures of the laity.

and they once again fall

under the bleak knife of the night wind.

and they once again are holy

and keep their word.

fall into my arms

like the marooned leaves from the trees

who can’t wait any longer to hold themselves up

and are able to let go

and let life take the lead

softly guided to the ground

caught by emerald glades of grass

in cool autumn

Your eyes are kind, bright, and lively. They are dark brown like a ship on the deep blue waves of the ocean. Your eyes make you seem inviting and warm, like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter day, like you’ve been waiting for me. You’re perfect. Perfect until he comes around. When he’s around your eyes aren’t as kind as they should be. The dark brown ship I saw on the ocean is still there, it’s just the ocean is raging now. The skies are dark and stormy and your ship is just riding along the abrasive waves. Your eyes tell me the jealousy is taking over. It leaves me wondering what happens when the jealousy has taken full control? It isn’t long before I get my answer. You become deceiving…..you do everything in your power to ruin what I’ve built with him, and it almost works...almost. I don’t blame you though, we’re humans. Humans lie and decieve to get what they want, but your actions astound me. They leave me confused. Everytime you get jealous and I look into your eyes; It’s like I’m stuck in the raging ocean waters, confused and drowning. Sometimes I wonder if jealousy and confusion can ever be friends? But I already know the answer. The real question here is do you?

To be quite frank, nothing beats having a steak for dinner right after a busy, blood-boiling week of work. In any case, that’s what I believe in, and I do not fail to show it. While at work in my butcher shop, I’m often asked how I am able to maintain my mouth watering physique at such an age, and the answer is simple: I have a nicely made steak every Friday.

Do you know what the advantages of eating steak regularly are? Due to the high amounts of vitamin B12, zinc, and protein found in red meats, my muscles, bones, and immune system have been everything but lackluster. However, recently, my mental health has been dwindling.

One week ago, my eldest daughter had gone missing, and the event has been a heavy burden and strain for my family and me. My wife will often come home with sunken eyes and matted hair, making no effort to lighten up her appearance even a little bit. My youngest daughter since then barely steps outside of her room, the only times of her appearance being during mealtimes. The atmosphere of our own home is something we can barely even tolerate anymore, and that’s why, as a good husband and father, I will make steak. It may not bring back my daughter, but perhaps it will bring back the hope in the eyes of my remaining family.

I take great pride in the way I handle my meats; when referred to, I am not simply called Chuck, but “Chuck the Butcher” in its entirety. I find and harvest my own meats, prepare them in my own shop, and serve them to my own customers, and nobody dares to file a complaint. So tonight, I will serve my family my best steak yet, and for my lovely wife a tall glass of wine.

And yet...tonight did not go as planned. The kitchen was a mess, as I had been slaving away in there to create the perfect dinner for my perfect family - I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this meal, and my wife had the audacity to throw a fit over her steak. Over what? A single, long strand of hair? I understand how that could make one upset, but I did not understand why my wife decided to throw a screaming fit about it. As we exchanged harsh words back and forth, she continued to bring up the topic of our missing daughter and constantly threatened me with the police. As much as it pained me to do, I had no choice but to send my youngest daughter back to bed.

Now, red coats the floor of the dining room - perhaps from the wine. And with my missing daughter, I now have a missing wife.

Musk sparked a joint, and took his time.

"That figure," dear Plato, "is enough for everyone to afford philosophizing all day, every day. The Sun produces enough clean energy to power everything on Earth - including all technology and civilization - including artificial intelligence. We are creating a Sun of our own - the Quantum Computer - and a Moon, if you will, to accompany it - AI. Such technology can build cities, manage waste, grow and cook food, as well as create and distribute medicine. We have the opportunity to harness solar, computing, and AI power to automate the process by which all humans' needs are perfectly addressed, leaving us with a cornucopic surplus of time to spend learning, socializing, creating, and celebrating, never having to worry about crime, hunger, disease, suffering. The future from this standpoint looks quite bright."

"Then what is in our way?" Pythagoras asked.

Musk passed the joint and continued. "I'll use 21st-century tongue here. Big Oil can prevent solar power's triumph and ubiquity, and it can destroy the environment and extinct humanity. A Quantum Computer in the wrong hands is exponentially more lethal than an Atomic Bomb because it can be used to hack virtually anything, including a power grid. And of course, AI can resolve to exterminate humanity, or at the very least enslave, in a way that doesn't address our fundamental needs, making us suffer."

"It would seem that a solution to your third problem," Aristotle announced, "is an ethical framework that would ensure any machine could never commit such wrongs."

"Yes. An ethical operating system."

Some hundred and seventy years ago when America was only a massive land of forest and hills lived a small family of five. They had a ramshackled cabin to start their new lives. None could foresee the tragedy to befall their precious little family. It all started with the matriarch of the household falling ill with a common cold. Back in those days however this was a life sentence. So, poor little Chuck at the age of six had to take up his father’s responsibilities.

It was mid summer and that was when their troubles began to make themselves known. On this day Chuck went out to tend to the crops, unfortunately for him they had been burnt to a crisp by the sun the day before. He had neglected to do the things necessary to keep the crops protected from the sun’s scorching rays. Chuck was breathless by the time he reached the cabin from the fields.

“Mother I’ve bad news.” Chuck said awkwardly shuffling from one foot to the other.

“What do you mean dearest?” She asked.

“The crops are dead there’s nothing to salvage.”

“WHAT?!” She roared grabbing him by the shoulders.

He stared at his mother in disbelief, he’d never seen her so angry in his entire life.

“Get me a switch.” She commanded.

“W-what?”

“You heard me boy, go get a switch, and don’t take to long!” She sneered.

Like a dog with its tail between it’s legs Chuck went and got a switch. He drug his feet coming back with the thin wiry stick in hand. Chuck’s mother beat his bare behind raw to the point he was bleeding. Tears were streaming down his young dirty face. They didn’t speak much after that.

The following winter two of Chuck’s three sisters starved to death. The second week of the bitter winter his last remaining sister was brutally raped and murdered. This left only the boy and his mother to tend to the cabin. One evening his mother spoke to him.

“This is all your fault! If you had properly tended to the crops your sisters would be alive!” She screamed.

“M-mother…” He said as his stomach grumbled loudly.

“Shut up you little bastard! I wish I never bore you!”

Something inside Chuck’s little mind snapped, he met his mother’s eyes with cold determined eyes. He gracefully walked over the the fireplace and picked up his pa’s axe.

“You know Mother I’m feeling quite hungry.” He said in an eerily calm voice.

Now it was her turn to be frightened.

“W-what d-d-do you m-mean?” She, not believing the sight before her..

Chuck just laughed at her incredulity then swung the axe at her stomach. She gripped her wound as the blood started to seep through her clothes. Chuck brought the axe down on her head, watching it roll across the room.

“You should have been nicer Mother.” He said laughing hysterically.

MaryAnne and I were on holiday where one day we were both abducted and transported to a place I have no clue of its location.

I am in a room that is all white including the ceiling, floor, the table I am handcuffed to and the chair I sit on. MaryAnne is nowhere to be found.

A man walked into the room and gave me specific instructions of choices I have to make within the next ten minutes. My face remained calm but my insides trembled at the prospect of the bleak and dire choices I had.

To say the least, this was both intimidating and frightening. The choices in the biggest sense weren't optimal no matter how I saw them. There wouldn't be any winners to come out of this ... unless the man was lying and I was for some strange reason being tested on my intellect. But if he was telling the truth, whatever my final choice, the outcome would prove fatal.

Between my handcuffed wrists sat a small round bell the size of a buzzer you would see outside by a front door of someone's home. I had to either press it once or press it twice, or not press it at all. They were my only options to the choices I was given. For the first time in my life, I was genuinely frightened at the prospects before me.

If I chose to press the buzzer once, I would die but MaryAnn would live. If I chose to ring the buzzer twice, both MaryAnne and I would be set free, but ten-million people would die. As it was said to me, ten-million strangers I did not know. If I chose to do nothing, I would live but MaryAnne would die. With the first and last choice, the ten-million strangers would live.

I've heard of and read about torture rooms before but this time I was in a place where I was being mentally tortured. My body was soaked in sweat.

And then I wondered, were they doing this same thing with MaryAnne? Was she also given this insane ultimatum? Was this some kind of sick prank to test our love for each other? Did she put a few of her friends together to test me?

Doubts. Nagging self-centered doubts. Of course she wouldn't. Would she?

The man returned and said I have one minute left. I became even more nervous and scared and not controlling myself, I felt the warm rush of pee saturate my clothing.

My hands edged to the buzzer and my index finger of my right hand hovered over it. Blinking the sweat away, my finger twitched, my body trembled.

Ten seconds he said flatly.

I looked at him nervously when he said my time was up.

He pulled out a pistol, leveled it at me and then I heard a ringing gunshot.

He never let any emotion enter into his voice when he said MaryAnne made the same choice I did. Then he fired the gun.

No winners.