Tag: forlorn

Vage Games

Welcome to Today’s FYB Post Featuring VAGE GAMES by Content Creator Federico. The Haunting and Somewhat Cliche Song in the Video is “Metaphysic” and is by Composer Kevin Macleod. Macleod is Most Widely Known for His Licensing Options that Allow Anyone to Use His Music for Free as Long as He Receives Attribution (Credit) and that has Led to His Music being Used in THOUSANDS OF FILMS, Commercial Video Games (Example: Kerbal Space Program), and a Vast Number of YouTube Videos/Films.

THUMBNAIL (CONTEXT):
Ebenezer McBurney Byers (1880) was a Wealthy American Socialite, Athlete, and Industrialist. He won the 1906 U.S. Amateur in Golf. He earned Notoriety in the early 1930s when He Died from Multiple Radiation-induced Cancers after consuming Radithor, a popular Patent Medicine made from Radium which is HIGHLY RADIOACTIVE Dissolved in Water.
Byers was Very Wealthy,  Considered to be Handsome, and His Life was just going well until He Experienced Back Pain and Visited to His Doctor.  Now remember that Back in the Day when the Medical Field was FAR, FAR MORE PRIMITIVE there were 2 Significant Problems when it came to Medication. One was the Doctor’s simply Not Knowing Enough at the Time and Thus Prescribing Dangerous Medications and Medical Procedures. The Second was what They referred to back then as Snake Oil Salesmen who Traveled from Place to Place Selling “Miracle Tonics and Health Inducing Elixirs that Aside from being a COMPLETE FUCKING SCAM could be Toxic.

Byer’s Doctor Prescribed Radithor, which Worked so Well for Him Eliminating His Back Pain and Any Other Ailment BUT, little did Byers know the Radithor was EATING HIS FLESH from the Inside Over the Years. Then Towards the End of His Life Byers was Consuming  3 Bottles of Radithor a Day until His jaw just became so Necrotic that Surgeons had to Amputate Byer’s Lower Jaw along with a Significant Portion of His Upper Jaw. From that Point On more Body Parts of Byer’s Deteriorated and were Removed until He inevitably Ended Up Dying Plagued by Various Forms of Cancer that Riddled His Decrepit Body Due to Radithor.

Synopsis: A Forlorn Central Character Ekes Out a Sorrowful Existence in a Bleak and Barron Apocalyptic Wasteland Lamenting Mortality.

It is What It is,

Presented By Les Sober

Broken Hill

Welcome to Today’s FYB Post featuring BROKEN HILL by Content Creator Federico. This Little Animation Oddity Reminds Me of the David Lynch Surreal Nightmare Movie Masterpiece ERASERHEAD From the Gloomy Environment, Ominous Undertones, and the Hopeless Despair of the Characters. The Characters seem Lost in a Haunting Bleakness as if They are Trapped in Purgatory and thus Reduced to a Stark and Pathetic Existence.

Synopsis: “Friend Where is the Promised Land We were Told,  All We See is the Nothingness of Boredom………”

Thanks For Watching,

  Presented by Les Sober

Another Good Man Is Dead

It’s a Truly Sad Day here at FYB as I found out Earlier Today that My Oldest and Dearest Friends Mike BlueJetSki Dies to Soon Last Night of Congestive Heart Failure. Ever Since I found Out the World Seems to Be Somewhat Off as if Reality has Suddenly gone Askew. Another Fallen Friend to Bid Farewell   to Another Death, Another Celebration of Deceased’s Life, Another Grave Needs Filling.

I’m not what You would call a Sentimental sort of Person so This is Far, Far, Far from any Biographical Memoire, but Alas I still have Shit to Say. I met Mike when I switched Schools right Before 9th Grade. It’s needless to say High School fucking Sucks, and Teenagers are Assholes so being an Interloper in a Group of fellow Students who have been fucking Classmates since fucking Elementary School. Mike was the First Person to approach Me and extend His Hand in Friendship.

Mike was an extremely Talented Self Taught Guitarist who I had the distinct Pleasure of Playing with in Several High School Bands with such as Burnt Toast, The Severed Heads, Rules of a Riot, The Satanic MC Collective, Shit Out of Luck, Far From Sober, and most Notably Stank Breath. Mike and I were part of the Motley Crew of Heavy Metal Loving, Pot Smoking, Underage Drinking Head Banger Slackers who’s only real accomplishment was Not Dropping Out or Flunking out of High School. For some in Our Circle of Friends that was a Tall Order I assure You.

           

Mike was also an Amazing Mechanic who was Born with a Natural Talent for Working with His Hands. I stopped by Mike’s Grandmothers House where Mike was Helping Her Clean Out Her Cluttered Attic. While Rummaging Through the Contents of the Attic Mike had come across His Grandfather’s Korean War Rifle. Now Mike had Obviously never seen a Korean War Rifle since He was Born After the Korean War Itself. It took Mike Meer Minutes to Completely Disassemble the Rifle, Clean it, and Reassemble it Flawlessly in Perfect Working Order .

During Our Junior Year of High School Mike’s Mother Started Dating since Sad to Say Mike’s Father had Died at an Early Age as Well of Heart Related Issues (The Kicker was He was on Medication that would have kept Him alive Accept for a Short Period He couldn’t Afford it and Paying the Bills. Talk about putting Family First and True Sacrifice.) a few Years before I met Him. Mike’s Mom was a Unconventional Character who was Honestly Quite Lonely and wanted Someone, Anyone really to Live out the Rest of Her Days With. After a long line of fucking Loser’s She impulsively Married a Southern Religious Fanatic and Old School Racist Asshole Don without Ever meeting Him in Person Prior to the Wedding (this was Pre Internet so They had to write actual Letters and Use Landlines to Communicate.)

Mike’s Mom suddenly announced one Day soon after Marrying Don the Dick to Dothan Alabama of all fucking Shitholes because thats were Don and His Family Lived, and They (Mike and His Siblings) had just under 2 weeks to get Their Shit Together before the Actual Moving Day. Again back in those Days there Weren’t wasn’t the Internet or Social Media or Skype so as I said communication could be Slow and for that matter inconsistent. The Only other Option outside of Snail Mail was Land Lines that Charged a small fucking fortune for Long Distance Calls. Being Teenagers Niether Mike nor I had any Money or source of Income so I could Move with Mike, and Mike couldn’t Move Back.

           

I did manage to Sell Enough Pot to Visit Mike During Spring Break to Don’s Dismay in Fact Don Claimed that if I came to Visit I’d “Bring the Devil to Alabama.” which being a Heavy Metal Fan and Teenager I thought was pretty fucking bad ass. In the End Mike’s Mom Divorced Don who became Mentally Unstable increasingly more and more as Time Passed. One Day Mike found Don sitting in the Kitchen with a Loaded Shotgun ranting about Murdering Mike. Mike tackled Don who was out of Shape and Obese and Wrenched the Shotgun from Him which He then locked in the Trunk of His car for Safe Keeping.

Mike was seriously one of the Most Artistically creative People I have EVER had the Sincere Pleasure of Knowing. Mike could Improvise like a Motherfucker No Matter what was Going On Mike could whip up a Song, Fictional Character, Short Story, or Movie Plot just to name a Few of Mike’s Natural Born Talents. Mike was the Ultimate Creative Collaborator the Synergy was fucking Insane like Two People living as One. Mike was the kind of Friend that We didn’t even Need to Talk, No verbalization Necessary to Communicate through just a series of Looks You’d know exactly what either of Us was Thinking/Feeling. It was Uncanny it Really fucking was. I image that being Friends with Mike equated to the Unexplained Link between sets of Twins.

Mike was also one of the Friendliest, Most Open Minded, Loyal, Caring, and Zen like People to ever walk the fucking Planet. I appreciated that being an Introvert who Spends Far too much Time in My own Head (sometimes to My Detriment) being Motivated by My Emotions. One of if not the Best piece of fucking Advice that has served Me well Over a Vast number of Years I got From Mike. I forget the exact Details other than We were Hanging Out in some Public Place, and I started to get Paranoid as a Motherfucker for some reason I can’t Remember. Mike Stared Me Dead in the Eye and in all seriousness said “Maybe what You think is going on ISN’T Going on because its all in Your Head??!”

           

Sad to Say that for Several Years Mike and I lost Touch until Our fucking Cliche finding One Another on (and it Pains Me so to Admit) Facebook back before Zuckerberg and I got into Our Battle of Wills. I will say this One of the first fucking things I did when the Bullshit FB shit happened I almost immediately exchanged Phone Numbers to Keep FB communications to a minimum. Unfortunately I ended up Abandoning Facebook which inadvertently lead to another Period of Separation if You will. Time went by and We ironically reconnected again on FaceBook, but it was Through My Wife who acted as My FB Middle Woman. From then on We talked several times a Month, but the Coolest Part was no matter how long it had been once We were reunited it wasn’t awkward or Weird in Any way whatsoever. Mike and I would simply Pick Up exactly whereWe left Off like No Time had passed at all.

My One and Only Regret is Not Seeing Mike in Person Face to Face since the Trip I took Junior Year to Visit Him. Technology has the Power to Connect, But it has No Personality. Some things can Only be done in Person there is absolutely No Technical Equivalent and Never fucking will be.

           

In Closing : I will Never Forget or Stop Missing My Dearly Departed Friend who I am sure is Giving Them Hell in Heaven.

Thanks for Giving a Shit & Reading,

By Les Sober

Puddles, Insomnia, Ghosts

(All my blogs from now will have a song attached that tries to go with the blog ranging from quite well to quite well but only after 10 mixed drinks. link is below my ramblings.)

I had great big plans for today. A wonderful schedule written on the whiteboard. A premade breakfast in its properly place. And then you showed up. It happened when I least expected it. It always does.

Your face showed up on my ceiling. In between the tears that tasted so salty on my lips, I caught your glimpse. I briefly smelled your scent, heard you tapping at my window. Then it was all gone, just as soon as it began.

My puddle diver. I cannot believe it has been over five years since you went away. It seems like it were just yesterday. That I could see your smiling face. Hear your carefree.

Sure, I have to dig a little deeper ago then five years, because five years ago you had lost your shine. Well not the shine, I could never see you not bathed in some kind of wonderful light. Time had taken away your smile. Time had dulled a certain part of what made you so wonderful to me. It was subtle at times but probably was much deeper. All I could see at times was my ignorance in a reflection.

I know you are still here even as I write these lines. I’m for some reason listening to Ani DiFranco. She was always more your lesbian side. Mine was this ridiculous interest in sports, but not like playing them because I didn’t want to mess up my great skin.

We were once young and well in comparison to you I guess I am the younger one now. Any age is a much more desired one then the agelessness being a corpse provides. Ageless beauty is some myth an undertaker decided to vomit onto the general population one too many moons ago.

I still remember painting with you. I had camped out at your house for an entire week, not some stormy weekend that eventually became our trademark (and demise.) You painted me a shirt. It was the silliest thing ever yet I cherished it so much. I even wore it in public a few times. I was so proud to wear your colors.

Then I threw all the colors out the window. We all did. It was my own personal prequel to 13 Reasons Why. I was such a horrible person that I’m sure I would have made the list more then once. So afraid to help because I was still so afraid of how I felt about you. I was always completely petrified. Even though you are gone, I’m still lost because of you.

Yet here I am now. I’ve been waiting 5 years to write this. As if I am somehow immortal. Some alien form that is going to outlast the cockroaches. Sadly, this shan’t be the case. I simply want redemption. While I cannot have this with you, it is something I deeply need for myself.

I cannot sit my the window any longer watching life pass me by. Instead, I will run. Flat on my face. I will fall. A lot.  It is no longer my time to just stare out at the rain.  Because I am the storm. And you forever are my Puddle Diver.