Wednesday, May 11, 2005

This Is Hellhole

End of days.

Armageddon.

Judgment day.

All the same. Whatever.

No more big frigging bloody palm, this is still the same ol' Hellhole, not the Black, White and Bloody Grey blog that was planned to be a shared blog. (that explains why you see Kenshin hacking away at it up there...chuckles...)Due to personal reasons, there shall be no more new entries here at hellhole (for now), as I tentatively shift my attention at the more sublime Black, White and Bloody Grey. (Just click on the title link) Needless to say, I shall return to delete this post soon enough, thrusting hellhole into a new direction.

"The King has left the building..." for now.

This has been Hellhole.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Black, White And Bloody Grey...

The Black,

The White...

And The Bloody Grey.

My new blog.

Further elaborations on why I rule all the time.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Pope Will Eat Itself

Lying right there in all his glory...just like when he's alive!!!

The pope died from septic shock and cardiocirculatory collapse, the Vatican said Sunday.
Well, not quite eaten himself up, but you know what I mean. A pity he didn't died one day earlier (April Fool's Day), as I could've pull a fast one on all those catholic I knew. But then again, I knew none. And the point of this post? I just thought that's a cool headline I thought of.

Sunday, March 27, 2005

EVOL

LOVE, n.
A temporary insanity curable by marriage or by removal of the patient from the influences under which he incurred the disorder. This disease, like caries and many other ailments, is prevalent only among civilized races living under artificial conditions; barbarous nations breathing pure air and eating simple food enjoy immunity from its ravages. It is sometimes fatal, but more frequently to the physician than to the patient.

- Ambrose Bierce (1842 - 1914), The Devil's Dictionary

If it ain't so tragic, it'll almost be funny that today happened to be Easter Day. It's been another season since my entry on Boxing Day, Monday, December 27, 2004, aptly titled "Season's Grieving...Happy Three Month "Anniversary". Kinda sounded like, Jesus got a bone to pick with yours truly, isn't it? Nah, I'm not going to pick a fight with some puritanic rednecks so I gotta reiterate that I'm just joking up there. Not that I care, anyway. It's March 27th. 2005. Half a year after one of the most pivotal day of my puny little life and still...can't help but feeling blue. Deeper and deeper shades of blue. "The more things change, the more they stays the same.", I guess. I shall knock it off...one of these days...

Thursday, March 10, 2005

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings?"

"I love you," she said, dispassionately. "You're my puppy. But when you're really dead you get to see things clearer. It's like there isn't anyone there. You know? You're like this big, solid, man-shaped hole in this world." She frowned. "Even when we were together, I loved being with you. You adored me, and you would do anything for me. But sometimes I'd go into a room and I wouldn't think there was somebody in there. And I'd turn the light on, or I'd turn the light off, and I'd realize that you were in there, sitting on your own, not reading, not watching TV, not doing anything."
She hugged him then, as if to take the sting from her words, and she said,"The best thing about Robbie was that he was somebody. He was a jerk sometimes, and he could be a joke, and he loved to have mirrors around when we made love so he could watch himself fucking me, but he was alive, puppy. He wanted things. He filled the space." She stopped, looked at him, tipped her head a little to one side. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings?"

- excerpts from American Gods by Neil Gaiman

In my opinion, the most powerful moment in one of the best read I ever had. Personal reasons, I supposed.

Sunday, February 27, 2005

Personal Hell

"People think that Hell is fire and brimstone and the Devil poking you in the butt with a pitchfork, but it's not. Hell is when you should have walked away, but you didn't."
Jack Grimaldi, Romeo Is Bleeding

Saturday, February 19, 2005

"Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind"

Japanese bothered by an unforgettable romance that later soured and continues to niggle need never worry again, because the wasuresaseya are there to help them forget their lost love…
Wasuresaseya, which literally means “professionals who make you forget,” exist to help people get over – or get out of – relationships they may once have wanted to remember forever but have now developed a change of heart.
“Rehabilitation of the mind” is a process that usually takes about one to two months. The period for forgetting is decided during the initial psychological counseling session. Severe cases, however, can take up to half a year. Wasuresaseya are expected to rush to the client’s side no matter where they are or what time they call for aid…

Miss M has few doubts about what it takes to become a successful wasuresaseya.
"Y'know, I think you've got to have been through a really wonderful relationship or been hurt really badly by a relationship," she tells Spa! "Our clients know when you're only telling them stuff to make them feel better."


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