Ahem...is this thing on?
Ready? Alright. So I'm a writer. I'm a constant victim of inconsistent inspiration, ideas weave in and out of my head quicker than I can acknowledge them. The poems somewhere below all this are the few that I've caught and translated. Some are very obviously better than others.
My name is Connor. Or Commador. Or Conman. Depends on who you talk to I guess, so you can just call me Connor. I don't like myself. And I mean I REALLY don't like myself. The people who know me know this. Something I'm discovering more and more as time goes on is that I'm beginging to dislike others just as much as I dislike me. There is a steadily mounting number of people whom I can honestly say I despise. I'm not ashamed of this, I think hatred is natural and healthy in the right amount. I love harder when I hate harder, I think it works better than way.
My poetry reflects what I feel obviously, as all poetry should, sometimes its happy or hopeful, most of the time its dismal and miserable. The inconsistency of my inspiration, as I mentioned earlier, is something that I've grown used to as much as I've grown to like it. When I'm in a bad mood, I become a childish headcase, overwhelmed with self loathing and a complete lack of perspective. When I'm in a good mood, like I am now, I'm a completely open person that will listen to anything so long as its not being yammered by idiots.
I'm going to take a little pause here to express something that I really can't make clear enough. I FUCKING HATE PEOPLE. But not all people. I am shy, I am anti-social, but that is not to say that I don't like company. This sounds odd, but its true. There are as many cool and respectable people as there are pricks and scumbags, the lesser of the two just take it upon themselves to be noticed alot more. Condescending people, ignorant people, obnoxious people, wankers in general, you know who you are, and you should find a hole, far far away from anyone, and die there. Slowly and painfully.
Anyway, heh, if your reading this then your looking to know at least a little about who wrote these poems. Well I'm not going to tell you a little. I'm going to tell you alot. I am a satanist, which, I might add, entails things far different from what most assume, I am 21, I graduated highschool, I'm currently enrolled in Mount Royal College, I hate myself, I am not ugly, and that bothers me, because I am not good looking either. I am inbetween, not ugly enough to be revolting but not good enough to be anything special. That is the truth, and I think this limbo is far more painful to endure that being truly hideous would be. I guess I wouldn't know. I want to learn to play the cello, I have alot of movies and games and other visual distractions from my otherwise dull and uneventful life.
---There used to be a whole thing about insignificance written here. But it wasn't me who wrote it. It was the other me, the loser half who wallows is misery and despair and all that good stuff. His name is Wally and if you see him, kick him in the balls. I am pretty insignificant right now, at least from a 'global perspective' but I won't always be. My suffering and torment and problems are pretty shallow, meaning that almost any normal human being goes through them at some point. The only difference between me and them are the chemicals in my brain that make me unable to deal with them rationally. I try though, which is more than alot of people do.---
I have friends that care about me, but unfortunatly for me they all live too far to see on a regular basis. Fuck post secondary man. It took all my friends away. I value all my friends more than they realize, but the two that I love more than any are Erika and Stephon. Erika is beautiful. She is gorgeous beyond all reason, inside and out, she has a smile that would light up hell, kindness that I thought to be non-existent, and a face that would drop an angels jaw. I've known her for only two years, but have been best friends for nearly that entire time. And Stephon, not so much a human being as a God darting amongst mere mortals. He is the single most important thing in my life; halarious, forgiving, generous, perfect in every way. He's my brother, my best friend, my God, everything. I would kill the world if he asked me to, no questions asked. Why? Cause he'd have a reason. He moved away, and we don't talk as much as we used to, but nothing has ever changed between us, and thats why I know he'll always be there for me when everyone else has left their knives in my back and moved on.
Theres alot of other people too, Jesse, Guy, Marci, Carys, Roach, Lera, Chris, lots of people who I see once in a while and hang with, but like I said, most of these people won't remember my name in a year. Tough shit, right?
I write, thats what I do, I WILL be a published best-selling novelist one day, there is no question to that, if I don't I will have failed in completely in life and should burn in hell for all of eternity and then some. I also draw, I'm artistic, though my talent fluctuates between great and absolute shit, I do alot of things, though nothing, I imagine, that would interest you.
My taste in music is as varied as it can be, death metal, punk, opera, classical, one or two rap bands, Emo, if theres talent involved and it sounds good, I like it.
On a side note, my cousin's band Radiodazed is the shit, best fucking band out there. Visit them. www.radiodazed.net You won't regret it.
Favourite movies are Edward Scizzorhands, Night, Dawn, Day, and Land of the dead, Pirates of the Carribean, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Cecil B. Demented, The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Corpse Bride, Moulin Rouge, Sin City, Silent Hill, BeetleJuice, Hellraiser, I have alot of favourite movies. Best bands in my opinion are Radio Dazed and Cradle of Filth, but also am quite an avid listener of System of a Down, The Lawrence Arms, Ima Robot, Necro, Disturbed, Primus, and Cursive.
My idols are as follows: H.P. Lovecraft, Tim Burton, Clive Barker. Anything at all by the three of these geniuses are utterly insurpassable in terms of imagination, style, brilliance and originality. A derogatory word about any one of them on this page will also, I feel it prudent to add, initiate an axe in the forehead of whatever dim-witted fuck put it there. I will find you and eat you alive.
If you've made it this far, you have alot of patience, and know alot about me. I don't know how much of a difference that makes, but thanks anyway.
Okay, so that pretty much wraps it up. Theres more, but nothing that the random passer-by needs to know about. So my undying gratitude to everyone who's cared about me and helped pull me through my rough patches, a great big fuck yo momma to everyone whos lied about shit and hurt me as a result. Whatever the case, I hope knowing me was worth something to you.
Goodnight.
"I journey now on jeweled sands,
beneath the moon to summer lands,
to grace her lips with contraband,
the blaze once in my veins."
-Cradle of Filth
"I kill without scruple or silent regret,
In haunts of the sinister lunar aspect,
for i am the pleasure that comes from your pain,
tiny red miracles falling like rain."
-Cradle of Filth
"I pace, alone,
in a place for the dead overcome by woe,
and here, I've grown,
so fond of dread that i swear its heaven."
-Cradle of filth
"Don't rob me of my hate, it's all I have left,"
-the Count of Monte Cristo
"I was born to murder the world."
Clive Barker, The Last Illusion
"Flesh is a trap, and magic sets you free."
Phillip Swann, The Last Illusion
"One thing you learn after years of dealing with drug people, is that you can turn your back on a person, but NEVER turn you back on a drug...especially when its waving a razor sharp hunting knife in your eye."
Raoul Duke, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
"Had I the heavens' embroidered clothes,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark clothes
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams beneath your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."
-William Butler Yeats
Worker bees can leave,
Even drones can fly away,
The Queen is their slave.
-Fight Club
Be yourself, slap a poser.
There's something I need to add to this in light of the horrific events taking place in the world right now. The events to which I refer are taking place right here, in our own country. Whether or not you know or understand the truth about 9/11, I won't bother to get into that, but everyone needs to understand that liberty in every form that it manifests in is under brutal and relentless attack from the figures of the government that are meant to protect it. It is OUR responsability to make sure that they do not get away with it. To start, go to the Canadian Action Party's website and put your name down to prevent the dissolution of canada into the united states. It sounds ridiculous, but please, go there and find out for yourselves. When you understand the severity of the situation, hopefully you will be motivated to take further initiative and prevent the beautiful freedoms of North America to be raped and transformed into a dictatorship.
Long Live Freedom.
And Slap Posers.
Ready? Alright. So I'm a writer. I'm a constant victim of inconsistent inspiration, ideas weave in and out of my head quicker than I can acknowledge them. The poems somewhere below all this are the few that I've caught and translated. Some are very obviously better than others.
My name is Connor. Or Commador. Or Conman. Depends on who you talk to I guess, so you can just call me Connor. I don't like myself. And I mean I REALLY don't like myself. The people who know me know this. Something I'm discovering more and more as time goes on is that I'm beginging to dislike others just as much as I dislike me. There is a steadily mounting number of people whom I can honestly say I despise. I'm not ashamed of this, I think hatred is natural and healthy in the right amount. I love harder when I hate harder, I think it works better than way.
My poetry reflects what I feel obviously, as all poetry should, sometimes its happy or hopeful, most of the time its dismal and miserable. The inconsistency of my inspiration, as I mentioned earlier, is something that I've grown used to as much as I've grown to like it. When I'm in a bad mood, I become a childish headcase, overwhelmed with self loathing and a complete lack of perspective. When I'm in a good mood, like I am now, I'm a completely open person that will listen to anything so long as its not being yammered by idiots.
I'm going to take a little pause here to express something that I really can't make clear enough. I FUCKING HATE PEOPLE. But not all people. I am shy, I am anti-social, but that is not to say that I don't like company. This sounds odd, but its true. There are as many cool and respectable people as there are pricks and scumbags, the lesser of the two just take it upon themselves to be noticed alot more. Condescending people, ignorant people, obnoxious people, wankers in general, you know who you are, and you should find a hole, far far away from anyone, and die there. Slowly and painfully.
Anyway, heh, if your reading this then your looking to know at least a little about who wrote these poems. Well I'm not going to tell you a little. I'm going to tell you alot. I am a satanist, which, I might add, entails things far different from what most assume, I am 21, I graduated highschool, I'm currently enrolled in Mount Royal College, I hate myself, I am not ugly, and that bothers me, because I am not good looking either. I am inbetween, not ugly enough to be revolting but not good enough to be anything special. That is the truth, and I think this limbo is far more painful to endure that being truly hideous would be. I guess I wouldn't know. I want to learn to play the cello, I have alot of movies and games and other visual distractions from my otherwise dull and uneventful life.
---There used to be a whole thing about insignificance written here. But it wasn't me who wrote it. It was the other me, the loser half who wallows is misery and despair and all that good stuff. His name is Wally and if you see him, kick him in the balls. I am pretty insignificant right now, at least from a 'global perspective' but I won't always be. My suffering and torment and problems are pretty shallow, meaning that almost any normal human being goes through them at some point. The only difference between me and them are the chemicals in my brain that make me unable to deal with them rationally. I try though, which is more than alot of people do.---
I have friends that care about me, but unfortunatly for me they all live too far to see on a regular basis. Fuck post secondary man. It took all my friends away. I value all my friends more than they realize, but the two that I love more than any are Erika and Stephon. Erika is beautiful. She is gorgeous beyond all reason, inside and out, she has a smile that would light up hell, kindness that I thought to be non-existent, and a face that would drop an angels jaw. I've known her for only two years, but have been best friends for nearly that entire time. And Stephon, not so much a human being as a God darting amongst mere mortals. He is the single most important thing in my life; halarious, forgiving, generous, perfect in every way. He's my brother, my best friend, my God, everything. I would kill the world if he asked me to, no questions asked. Why? Cause he'd have a reason. He moved away, and we don't talk as much as we used to, but nothing has ever changed between us, and thats why I know he'll always be there for me when everyone else has left their knives in my back and moved on.
Theres alot of other people too, Jesse, Guy, Marci, Carys, Roach, Lera, Chris, lots of people who I see once in a while and hang with, but like I said, most of these people won't remember my name in a year. Tough shit, right?
I write, thats what I do, I WILL be a published best-selling novelist one day, there is no question to that, if I don't I will have failed in completely in life and should burn in hell for all of eternity and then some. I also draw, I'm artistic, though my talent fluctuates between great and absolute shit, I do alot of things, though nothing, I imagine, that would interest you.
My taste in music is as varied as it can be, death metal, punk, opera, classical, one or two rap bands, Emo, if theres talent involved and it sounds good, I like it.
On a side note, my cousin's band Radiodazed is the shit, best fucking band out there. Visit them. www.radiodazed.net You won't regret it.
Favourite movies are Edward Scizzorhands, Night, Dawn, Day, and Land of the dead, Pirates of the Carribean, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Cecil B. Demented, The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Corpse Bride, Moulin Rouge, Sin City, Silent Hill, BeetleJuice, Hellraiser, I have alot of favourite movies. Best bands in my opinion are Radio Dazed and Cradle of Filth, but also am quite an avid listener of System of a Down, The Lawrence Arms, Ima Robot, Necro, Disturbed, Primus, and Cursive.
My idols are as follows: H.P. Lovecraft, Tim Burton, Clive Barker. Anything at all by the three of these geniuses are utterly insurpassable in terms of imagination, style, brilliance and originality. A derogatory word about any one of them on this page will also, I feel it prudent to add, initiate an axe in the forehead of whatever dim-witted fuck put it there. I will find you and eat you alive.
If you've made it this far, you have alot of patience, and know alot about me. I don't know how much of a difference that makes, but thanks anyway.
Okay, so that pretty much wraps it up. Theres more, but nothing that the random passer-by needs to know about. So my undying gratitude to everyone who's cared about me and helped pull me through my rough patches, a great big fuck yo momma to everyone whos lied about shit and hurt me as a result. Whatever the case, I hope knowing me was worth something to you.
Goodnight.
"I journey now on jeweled sands,
beneath the moon to summer lands,
to grace her lips with contraband,
the blaze once in my veins."
-Cradle of Filth
"I kill without scruple or silent regret,
In haunts of the sinister lunar aspect,
for i am the pleasure that comes from your pain,
tiny red miracles falling like rain."
-Cradle of Filth
"I pace, alone,
in a place for the dead overcome by woe,
and here, I've grown,
so fond of dread that i swear its heaven."
-Cradle of filth
"Don't rob me of my hate, it's all I have left,"
-the Count of Monte Cristo
"I was born to murder the world."
Clive Barker, The Last Illusion
"Flesh is a trap, and magic sets you free."
Phillip Swann, The Last Illusion
"One thing you learn after years of dealing with drug people, is that you can turn your back on a person, but NEVER turn you back on a drug...especially when its waving a razor sharp hunting knife in your eye."
Raoul Duke, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
"Had I the heavens' embroidered clothes,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark clothes
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams beneath your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."
-William Butler Yeats
Worker bees can leave,
Even drones can fly away,
The Queen is their slave.
-Fight Club
Be yourself, slap a poser.
There's something I need to add to this in light of the horrific events taking place in the world right now. The events to which I refer are taking place right here, in our own country. Whether or not you know or understand the truth about 9/11, I won't bother to get into that, but everyone needs to understand that liberty in every form that it manifests in is under brutal and relentless attack from the figures of the government that are meant to protect it. It is OUR responsability to make sure that they do not get away with it. To start, go to the Canadian Action Party's website and put your name down to prevent the dissolution of canada into the united states. It sounds ridiculous, but please, go there and find out for yourselves. When you understand the severity of the situation, hopefully you will be motivated to take further initiative and prevent the beautiful freedoms of North America to be raped and transformed into a dictatorship.
Long Live Freedom.
And Slap Posers.
- Last seen on Aug 19 1:38 PM. Member since February 3, 2004.
- I'm a jade dragon poet for 295 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is Be Yourself, Slap A Poser!.
- I am a 21 year old guy (Canada)
- When I'm not writing, I'm a writer and an anarchist..
- Visit my homepage at ix-nay on the omepage...hay?
- I am in the groups Johnny Depp Fans
- I have 295 comments
My Poetry
-
Spirituality is a field, a meadow, scattered with trees and flowers,29 lines, 1 comment, March 16
-
Life depleted, run dry, and from this foolish world departed,
met with darkness rich and pure and open-hearted.95 lines, 3 comments, February 12 -
Words stated loudly, for clarity,
fall on deaf ears, are you proud of me?39 lines, 1 comment, November 12, 2007
Visitor Book
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Show all
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Misery on August 18Hey there How ya been?
-
isa : Heya! on February 3Hey, do u remember me? i used to comment on a lot of your poetry back in the day. anyway, i have some newish stuff if you care to take a peek.
-Isa -
twilight on July 8, 2007I miss you.
-
twilight on January 28, 2007Hey Connor,
AP says you haven't been here sinze November something, so writing this on your pages means that you probably won't get it for a while. But I know AP sends emails asking you to please come back, so maybe they'll send you one and you'll come back. I would email you but, well, I think I like this better.
I re-read your bio today (well, I come here everyday to see if you, or anyone else has been around recently. Remember when we used to be here all the time? It was what we did. That was fun. Impossible to recreate, but nice to remember.) and I have to tell you two things.
Number one :
"I am inbetween, not ugly enough to be revolting but not good enough to be anything special. "
I just want you to know that I don't believe that. Well, I believe the not revolting part, but the second part about not being something special, I think is a load of crap. Remember what you wrote about Erika? And her smile that can light up a room? YOUR smile lights up MY room, because you don't smile very often so I know that I have earned every one that comes in my direction. I think you are something special. You are my Stephon.
Number Two:
"Whatever the case, I hope knowing me was worth something to you."
I think my points about have illustrated that knowing you has meant everything to me.
I crave you being published probably as much as you do because I wish that more people knew you the way (I like to think) I know you. I wish you could light up the rooms of other people who may need it more then me. (and this is probably sounding at this point like a bunch of sentimental bullshit to you....sorry...I'm a girl, sentiment happens.)
I guess in a way, this is also serving as part of an apology. Apology for not seeing you in Canmore (I am sorry, sorry that if you came, I wasn't there, sorry I couldn't find you if we were both there, and sorry I never called you after. I was ashamed. I was scared to call and have you be mad or upset, which is totally selfish. I won't bother you with reasons and excuses though)
Anyways, we haven't talked much, (no one's fault, life tes in the way) and with me putting this here I run a pretty good chance that you aren't going to read it (at least for a while) which means that me looking like the idiot I feel like I sound is still some time away.
I just wanted you to know that I value you in my life pretty much above everyone else, and I know that I really suck at showing that. You're an amazing guy, Connor, and an amazing friend. You desearve to be recognized for it.
