Fuck the date.  Fuck everything.

Our government was hit first.  The virus, plague, whatever it is, originated in DC.  No branches were spared. There was hysteria at first, then inredulity, then panic; that was before the insanity.  Two hours after the outbreak, DC was overrun.  The army assumed control of the situation and detonated something nuclear, probably a small warhead, in the capital.  The nation was in shock.

Then it started in other cities.

The few doctors who have managed to capture and study the afflicted have made similar theories, essentially of a weaponized form of rabies that accelerates and exaggerates the associated symptoms.  They have also found what could conceivably be negri bodies in the afflicted's tissue, however the anomalies are unfamiliar in presentation.

Dear god, I was just getting close to finishing medical school, and now the world's ending.  Fuck me gently and torture me to death. I'm going to join the rest of our pragmatic society and start looting supermarkets...

Hey Diary I'm Back,

Got a shit ton stuff fron the supermarkts, mostly booze, but left when an afflicted person showedup. By now, they're basically everywhere. Seems weird to call them zombies, because they're not really dwad. It was scarier than I thoughy it would be, the thibgs are fast!!; I left while some apocalyps enthusiasts were fighting it, but I saw it bite one. He's a goner.

I'm going to lock and nail all the doors in my house and boardup the windowa and pray that the pockets of civilizatipn will keep thw internet up until I die. Time to watch everything on netflix...

The worst hapPneed three hours in. Netflix is down. I might try to raid a bookatore in the morning but I'm shitfacedand am gona ptfo. Part of me hopes I die in ny sleep.

It's time to get lyrical

Fresh-squeeze a miracle

Boom would you bet

The Big Bang would be spherical

Try not to keel

I'll invent the wheel

But better and cooler

Fly old fashioned feel

I'll take it

Remake it

Bake up til I burn

I never will learn

How to quit

Cause I'm fit in the head

And a cat in the bed

I've been told it's been said

But sometimes I see red

Then I'm done and I'm dead

But my anger is on

I never stop dreading

The nights when you're gone

I love you to death

You're my crystal meth

Assassin in white

Though you're name isn't Szeth

Assassin at night

I'm yours to caress

Kill me with pleasure

I'm high off your breath in excess

You undress

And you know you're the best

You lay me to rest

I feel so at peace

As we lay in our nest

Cause we're blessed to live

Do our best to love

We forgot the rest

Thank the heavens above

We'll spread that goodwill

Everywhere that we go

But where life will take you

Nobody can know...

Early piece of my first to be hit single... lol i wish, but maybe - OMB

I wronged a girl who didn't deserve it,

The first one to show affection for me;

I lit a flame but didn't preserve it,

'Twas snuffed by artificiality.

I set her free, giving her half a lie,

Forcing half into my own shallow brain.

Saying I liked her too much so goodbye.

Hoping the shame I felt outweighed her pain.

The regret comes up too many a-day,

Often as I reflect on past mistakes.

I've thought about ev'ry step of the way,

Honestly, honesty's all that it takes.

I was selfish, shallow, and immature;

I suppose I might be some of those still.

I try to be better, yet I'm unsure,

Can I fix what I've done with what I will?

the need for more

to fill the sore void inside

our very core.

Hidden,

as bidden by

a society which tried

to villify

desires,

the fires which burn

all in turn, making us hide

that which we yearn.

Alone,

it's grown, consuming

the dooming fear of want denied

ever looming

above.

We shove feelings

in sealing prisons of pride

to fall, kneeling,

obedient,

an ingredient

that's rent, poured, and set aside,

now quiescent,

as the thoughts forced in your mind

let your dreams get left behind.

Everyone who has ever had a thought worth thinking has at one point pondered the origin of the universe.

Was intelligent design involved (what most would call a "creator" or "God(s))?  If so, what was the origin of that creator?  Has it simply existed forever?  How is that possible?

This train of thought can be quite depressing if you prefer sensible and holistic answers.  Still, I think either of two very similar options must be concluded through logic.  A third answer is also available, but sequiters into the first two anyway.

These options are as follows:

Either

A.  A creator without origin exists/existed and made the universe with some purpose in mind.

B.  The universe exists without origin and is either cyclical or a one time deal (either we are a cycle of big bang, matter, black holes, repeat, or the universe dies a heat death from cobstant expansion).

C. The irrelevant third option is the universe is an experiment in another universe, but that begets the question of the origin of that universe, and we're back to square one.

I personally believe that the universe is too random to be by design, but also too random to be without origin, and the lack of any significant divine intervention led me to propose this, only creation theory I can make sense of.

Without further ado:

In the beginning, God was a number of things.

First and foremost, God was bored.

Since nothing besides God existed yet, God had nothing to do but think.

In thinking, God was confused, as here it was existing without any purpose.

God was also lonely, being alone.

God attempted to fix its problems by splitting itself in two.

This split released an immense amount of matter and energy, and is what we consider the "Big Bang."

Now both Gods become fixated on the distortion that is the universe, and grow excited when they see matter acquire intent (life).

They talk it over and decide to merge with the universe in order to gain the experience of all life so as to better understand their own purpose, believing that the all lifes' experiences will be preserved, collected, and joined after death into one God, who will use the collective experience to decide its purpose.

In this way we have a universe with a creator, but with neither an overseer nor a designer.

It follows that the purpose of life is to experience, and interfering with others' experience without good intentions, through death or degradation, is contrary to life's purpose, and therefore naturally unethical.

Living to experience also logically behooves cooperation over competition to provide a consistently better experience for the species as a whole.

These are ideals which I believe in, so I am proud of a creation theory that naturally justifies their core beliefs.

As a pseudo-scientific hypothesis pertaining to this theory, I believe that black holes are actually portals to the dimension that God exists in, and that they draw our souls (the imprint of our experiences on God's essence) into them and they join together with God on the other side, either as a continuous process or all at once when the universe collapses into itself at the end of time.

As a note to any admirers, I have dubbed this worldview Apathism, and its practitioners Apathists, the rational being we don't care if there is a God or what it wants, but we strive to live virtuously anyway, because it's the fair and logical thing to do given that the purpose of life is to experience.

Dual nothings.

One per hand.

Our tools.

Our ending.

What are we?

Bound by violence.

More nothings.

Ready to fade.

Purpose?

We have none.

Survival.

Meaningless.

Pain.

Existence.

Profit.

From shame.

Our wish?

An end.

To fight.

To spare.

Each other.

Another day's suffering.

That is all.

We can give.

What is evil?  Selfishness?  Hypocrisy?

Cruelty?  Sadism?  Or Psychopathy?

Does intent matter, or just consequence?

Be warned: this train of thought might get intense.

Consider a selfish theif in the night-

Surely he knows what he does isn't right,

And doing it may cause someone distress;

Is it evil to steal?  I wouldn't say yes.

For this sort of crime is from desperation,

To eat or pay rent in a pinch-pennied nation.

Living is likely our most basic drive,

I don't think it's evil to try to survive.

Is the hypocrite evil?  Let's take a look.

Does being arbitrary make one a crook?

Doubtful; at most, it means you're unfair,

And lends you all the weight of empty air.

Hypocrites tend to live on a horse,

Too high to see when what they say is off course;

Too low to rescind a mistake they may make,

Too prideful with their reputation at stake.

Cruelty, I feel, is misunderstood.

Most of us have caused both pain and good.

Fewer of us intend for the pain,

An unfortunate byproduct, like acid rain.

Ending a relationship might be cruel,

But staying together might make you a fool.

Is cruelty evil?  Not necessarily;

But I think it can be, if you act cruel merrily.

What a nice segway to sadism's heart:

Deliberate cruelty made into an art.

If anything's evil, my vote would be this;

The blackest depths of a moral abyss.

No reason to create pain except for their pleasure,

Sadists see suffering as a great treasure;

They seek it, they cause it, then revel with glee;

Sadism seems pretty evil to me.

As for the psycopath, all I'll assume

Is that she's the most selfish perp in the room.

Guiltless because she the only thing real

In the world she lives in.  The way others feel

Means nothing to her, people are but tools

To accomplish her goals, to help bend the rules.

Is the psycopath evil?  I'll be optimistic,

And say she's incorrigibly narcissistic.

It may be that evilness isn't a trait,

But some combination of power and hate.

Considering there's no undisputed right,

If evil exists, it's not black and white.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,

can I delude myself to fall

in love with the wretch that I see,

who's sickened gaze stares back at me?

Scale, scale, on the floor,

can I avoid you one day more?

I'm still afraid that you'll display

the truth I hide from every day.

Can I just twist my mind around

until I feel safe and sound?

Adjusting beauty to fit me

by ignoring reality?

Or do I take a chance and try

to change myself in my own eye

until I'm who I want to be?

Can it be done? I guess we'll see.

Iron, iron, in my hand,

will pumping you make my arms grand?

Treadmill, treadmill, in the gym,

will running on you make me slim?

Diet, diet, no more shit,

will eating healthy make me fit?

Scale, scale, on the floor,

Show me what my work's been for.

Mirror, mirror, on the shelf,

Are you for real? Is that myself?

I don't look perfect, that's ok;

I like the way I look today.