Well, You Just Wouldn't Believe Me.

I'll touch you. Touch you inside your chest. Poke your lung.

Stop it!

Strange?

(laughter)

Whoa. What happened to that? It died of course.

(laughter, laughter, laughter)

"Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrreeee yyyyyoooooouuuuu fffffffffeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllliiiiiiinnnnngggg oooookkkkkaaaaayyyy?"

Yeah I'm fine, keep going.

Cut cut cut cut cut cut cut cut cut cut cut.

Red red red red red red red red red red.

Dead cow. Flies, go away. I shall eat my dead cow.

Thats a bit strange?

Bright white teeth, sink into arm.

hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt.

"Jjjjjjjoooooooeeeeeeellllll ppppppaaaaayyyyyy aaaaattttttennnnttttiiiiiiooooonnn"

Sorry I'm listening, keep going.

Dead cow dead cow dead cow dead cow.

Bullet, bullet from a gun. Into head. red red red red red red.

(Laughter laughter)

Take a chip take a chip take a chip. TAKE A CHIP!

(Slaughter slaughter slaughter)

"Yyyyyyyyooooooouuuuuuu ssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeeemmmmm ddddddddddiiiiiiiiiiiiisssssstttttrrrrrraaaaacccccttttttteeeeeddddd, wwwwwhhhhhaaaaaatttttttssss wwwwrrrrroooonnnnnngggggg?"

Nothing is wrong... Sigh...

Insult Me And I'll Probably Agree With You.

"I am a Joel. Or am I? No I'm pretty sure I am. Yep. I checked just then. Imagine if someone stole you while you were sleeping and replaced you with a totally different person? Do you think you would notice? I would, if someone did it to me. Defiantly."

- Joel Hollands

Its funny, for a while I never thought I was different. I thought everyone was like me, and I had some pretty awkward situations discovering this. For example, I have known for ages that people dream. And I always thought that dreaming about drooling quilled creatures eating you, and starving to death in the desert and being dissected alive on shiny metal tables was just the sort of thing that everybody dreamed about every night. It turns out that for most people, nightmares are pretty rare. I get them most every night. And then probably the funniest other thing was the whole,

Joel: "Hey, you know the voices that you hear in your head?"

Other person: "Uh... No..."

Joel: "What do you mean no?"

Other person: "I don't hear voices in my head"

Joel: "Really? Thats weird"

Other person: "Not really... I don't think its normal to hear voices"

Joel: "Oh."

*Awkward Silence*

Anyway. By osmosis and the internet I discovered that there are various things about me that other people may consider strange. Thus different Joel is different, lol.

This should probs be the point that I say some thing like, "I may be different, but I like who I am! Yay!" But I don't. I hate me. I'm my least favorite person. For various reasons. No point elaborating. That would just be dull.

So yeah. Joel is who I am. And I'm less than happy about that.

Here's a Gibbon. You deserve it if you read all that crap.

Gibbons are the smallest apes, they are frugivores and a little bit folivores (that means they eat fruit and foliage). They are Monogamous, the mated pairs having little sexual dominance or weight difference. Both parents take an active role in caring for young.

Kalatorm?

Pulled immaturely from incubation,

Sweating, wet, unfed, parent-less

Washed up upon a beach of white sand,

Sea weed clinging to thin white limbs,

A snake, undulating black body, jewel eyes,

Mouth opens wide, venom drips from fangs,

Strikes, misses, Neck gripped in tiny fists,

small white teeth sink into snake flesh,

The reptiles head is severed from its body,

And the flesh of its neck, eaten by the ravenous child.

White sand. Red snake blood soaks in.

Sleeping creature.

Nice Work People.

Aches and pains,

Heads with no brains,

The production of guns,

And corrupt men's funds.

They all rise steadily, day by day,

The lies build up, the truth gives way.

And soon, we'll all be dead. Who even cares.

I'll Wipe Anti-Inflammatory Rub In Your Eyes, And Laugh.

So a private source told me that some (not all) trinity kids think I'm bat-shit insane. In a negative way. Off-the-rails-flaming-wreck of a person.

Also, to the person who told me, I love you very much.

So, I suppose I'm not that normal. I suppose I've made a few mistakes. I could give you a whole lot of things to chew on, like, "Jesus, who I love btw, Hung out with some pretty shady characters" Or perhaps, "Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone" or even, "Love all equally, richer or poorer, the sick the feeble in body or mind, the needers of charity"* perhaps "Aren't you guys Christians? how come you invite my friend David (the Atheist! oh dear, we must save him!) to your youth bible tea parties, but not me?". But you know what? I don't really feel like pulling a reasonable, definite kind of argument against you. After all, what reasonable arguments did you give for judging me? Not one. Bit hypocritical on my part, I know.

So this is what I'm gonna do. I'm going to swear at you.

Fuck you. FUCK you. I hope you choke on all those shit stupid makes-no-sense contradictory rules you have. I hope your ignorance, intolerance, non-accepting, lying crap makes you happy, you cunt fucking shit-heads.

If you fall over on the street, I won't help you up.

Not all of you are bad. Many of you are quite dear to me. Thank-you for enacting Christian values.

Also, I am more intelligent than, at the very least, half of you.

*Zomg, Joel knows bible verses!

Tidy My Room, And Cthulhu Will Find You.

And trust me, you do NOT want a God-like Old One Eaating your immortal soul, or making you a thrall of his magnificent Evil. He's, like, more evil than Google. Well... maybe AS evil as google. Still... Google... EVIL.

Note To Self

S.F.T.S.S.M

Tune in when I'm feeling better for the meaning of this phrase.

Pink Floyd + Fever Dream.

"You've got to be crazy,

You've got to have a real need,

Gotta sleep on your toes,

When you're on the street.

You've got to be able,

To pick up easy meat,

With your eyes closed..."

Shiver in your bare skin.

Doctor claims it won't hurt,

Just a prick from a pin,

Put back on your shirt.

Slavering mouth,

begs for food,

To the deepest south.

Naked, and lewd.

Fight a fever,

Tumor growing within,

Fine steel cleaver,

Cuts away what has been.

Fascinating ugliness.

"Denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism"

How and when did you decide against the military service?

When I was very young.

Why can't you arrange military service with your conscience?

I think that it is wrong to kill or hurt people to prevent them from doing the same.

What prohibits you from serving in the military?

The knowledge that I would be required to kill someone.

Do you fear having to fight, or to use force?

I don't fear having to fight, or to use force. I have fought for things before in a nonviolent manner. Force in itself is not evil, it is the purpose to which that force is put which defines it. I fear having to kill.

Do you want to abolish the army?

I understand the necessity to have it. If I could, I would abolish all military, but abolishing just one nation's army would only expose it to violence from other countries.

What do you think about the phrase "We have the army to defend us, not to kill others"?

I think that it is a flawed statement. It doesn't matter what it is that the army is for, what matters is what it does. Yes it defends us. But it also kills innocent people.

What would you do if you were attacked?

I would attempt to run, if possible, surrender and then welcome the violence against myself, as I think that it would be equally wrong to fight back.

What do you feel when you see that others are attacked?

I feel great sadness.

What is violence, exactly?

It is the physical attempt to hurt or kill another being.

Would you rather experience losses than having to use force?

It would depend on how great the losses are but in general, yes.

What do your beliefs say?

They say, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart" and "Do to others what you would have them do to you"

Would you describe yourself as a pacifist?

Yes.

What basic values, besides objecting to violence, do you have?

Being kind to others, and being ever watchful of one's self and one's actions.

What entity gives you the certainty that your thinking and your feelings are right?

Myself. And God. But if God did not want me to think, He would not have given me a brain. So firstly, I ask myself what is right. We cannot simply expect God to provide all answers. He expects us to do more than pray.

Why didn't you choose to go into prison if your conscience is that strong?

Buy going to prison, I submit defeat, and that I am wrong or cowardly, deserving of punishment. I am not defeated, only without violence.

Why didn't you use medical reasons to avoid military service?

Because I am a fit, young individual capable of fighting, but unwilling to do so.

What do you actually do to further peace, or is your attitude the only peaceful thing about you?

I attempt to act the virtues of generosity, kindness, and spreading hope.

Who is in charge of defending your children in case of an armed conflict?

I am in charge of helping my family flee to a safe location.

Do you live your ethical principles inside your family?

I attempt to, yes.

What books do you read?

I read many books, mostly fictional, but for the purposes of this question the most important would probably be The Bible.

What do you demand from yourself?

Patience, honesty and willingness to put into action that which I speak.

Are you merely a leader, a follower or a loner?

My preference is to be alone. But I am willing if pressed to perform in either of the other roles.

Nothing Changes In The Abyssal Plain.

On the abyssal plain.

Of the Ocean.

I sit.

And wait

And wait

And wait

And wait.

For the dawn of change.

For the world to turn back,

To a land of tropical jungle heat,

Of baking beaches, white sand banks to the horizon,

Of vast, empty, blinding white arctic desert,

Of blonde grassed, twisting tree wilderness,

Of cold pine forest, earthy green and brown.

In the abyssal plain,

Nothing changes.

No intelligence,

Penetrates its absolute mystery.

No light,

Pierces the Ten thousand years of inky blackness.

Only the dark.

And the mud.

Of the Ocean floor.

Feel our earth cry in its agony,

As the surface animals,

Torture its skin.

But in the abyssal plain,

All is calm.

Nothing changes.

My Speed Dial

That's all.

Jack And The Makes-No-Sense-Ending.

After what seemed like years he reached the top of the beanstalk, And at the top of the huge beanstalk was the biggest f***ing flower ever. It was amazing. Then he climbed back down and made people buy tickets to see the flower. With the profits, he played the stock market and became a Billionaire.

But no gold or giants or anything. Why, would that make more sense?

The End.

And Such And Such

"God made me clever, But I wish he had made me happy instead." - Joel.

Lets face it: I'm smarter than the average person. but here are some things I'm not:

Happy

Useful

The possessor of worth

Stable

Mentally sound

Satisfied

A good son

A good brother

A good friend

A good student

Well liked

So, pretty much, I am a waste.

Also, 2 posts ago was my one hundredth post. Woot!

the Coldly and Overly and Deeplessly Everseen.

I feel as though, If you look at me for long enough I stop being real.

All I am is a thin layer of paint on the canvas of life. Striking to look at, perhaps, but dig through and you will find nothing underneath, no substance, no true person.

If you look at my face long enough, perhaps you, too, will see the hollowness of myself in compare to the world around me.

Soon I shall blow away on the evening breeze, a Shallow mockery of humanity, lifeless and forgotten.

Does it matter? Probably not, even to me.

"Deliberate."

No, I Don't Feel Very Well.

Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for meeee,

And I'm feeling ill.

My throat is clogged with cloggotry, my head is full of cotton I think I'm going to throw up, and my eyeballs feel like they have just been exposed to a sandblaster.

Multi-tool.

I carry a swiss army knife. Not because I'm an insane stabby maniac, but because I find it useful for doing stuff with. It really is very handy. Today I bought myself a can of food from coles, and only when I got back to the art room with my poor man's lunch, did i realize it had no opening key. If I hadn't had my multi-tool, I would have looked like an idiot.

It's a great thing! :D Leather-man, Gerber Multi-Pliers or Swiss Army Knife, it doesn't really matter, I recommend you get one.

Can You Even Remember?

Dance in a circle round and around,

Steps so fast, feet barely touch ground.

Play a tune on a wooden pipe,

Pick a fruit that is nearly ripe.

How did you get here?

Can you even remember?

Down a narrow path on foot,

Watching the treads on moss you put.

Trees eclipse the evening sky.

As you look up you ask yourself, "why?"

How did you get here?

Can you even remember?

Take a drink from a crystal stream,

All you think is, "Is this what it seems?"

Vines spiral up, twisting through the branches,

You see the beauty, breathing, "What are the chances?"

How did you get here?

Can you even remember?

Soft darkness of night wraps you securely,

You drift off to sleep, slowly but surely,

As you fall into the welcoming rest,

You mutter to yourself, "It was all for the best..."

How did you get here?

Can you even remember?

I remember.

I remember you.

Forget, forget, forget sweet child,

When you need me I will be here,

At the back of your mind,

With words of hate, to make you remember.

The Things I'll Do.

I'll walk away in confusion, after having done something perfectly mundane.

I'll think you called my name when you didn't.

I'll twitch when you give me a funny nickname.

I'll look at you like I know exactly who you are.

I'll then walk away like I don't know you.

I'll waste all the money in my wallet on something you don't even particularly want.

I'll wear a rubber grin while you hang around with people I don't like, and make loud noises.

I'll dedicate a poem to you.

I'll cry at you and you won't know what to do.

I'll make you laugh until you can't breath.

I'll make you feel better with kind words when you are upset.

I'll won't fight any monsters, I'll be busy dealing with my own.

I'll recommend you don't use violence.

I'll ask if you want to get a drink with me.

I'll make you appreciate how smart I am.

I'll pray for someone you care about.

I'll give you half of something that is mine.

I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE DELETE THEIR FACEBOOK!

Do you know how hard it is to contact you guys!? graaagh!

Me And This Girl.

I knew a Girl.

With dark brown hair.

A pretty little thing.

Back when I didn't know how to think.

I know a girl,

With dark brown eyes.

I kissed her lips,

Once or twice.

I was bitten.

Buy a disease.

Of the mind.

And of the body.

Too late,

I found out,

All girls grow up.

I shrugged, and walked away.

Things happened,

I forget what.

A troubling time for me though I'm sure.

More to the point,

I got over it.

And onto greater things.

And greater mistakes.

The fool that I am.

I picked out the stars,

with my fingertips.

My beauties danced for me,

Like they always have.

I held my head in my hands

Screaming in pain.

My tormentor tormented me,

Like he or it always has,

I clasped my hands together,

A beggar on the street of life.

My king gave me love,

Like he always has,

And I worked out the meaning

of the puzzle,

Without all the pieces.

Like I do.

Because I was put together clever.

Then just recently,

I was dusting my books,

And I found a person.

Long forgotten,

Preserved in glass,

Taller, but the same.

I laughed and shook her hand.

How strange this thing is.

Cruel perhaps,

But I don't mind right now.

Do I remind you of the fool?

Dancing on the cliff edge?

Carrying the things he needs,

In his pockets, and his little bag.

All I need is a plume in my hat.

Crazy Person.

The man sits

In his padded cell,

Dressed in rags

He drools and shouts,

He screams at nothing.

He scrawls things

On the walls

In his own defecate.

From a window above

Looking down on him

Are the men and women,

dressed in white rubber coats.

They look at the scrawlings,

They listen to the shouts,

They write them down in

Equally white binders.

They sell his words to the obscenely rich,

And they cry over their beauty.

They wonder who this mystery poet is,

where he writes these marvels,

what wonders he lives.

As they pull the lever that releases

His daily serving of yellow brown slop,

He runs for it and begins to eat, shoveling great mouthfuls in,

With shit encrusted hands, fingernails black.

Matted beard and hair to his waist.

You Are Bad.

I can't believe you call yourself a Christian. Have you ever read the bible? Y'know, that stuff about being kind to other people? Or the big bit where Jesus dies for everyone who ever did anything wrong? Y'know those bits? they're good bits. I'm sorry, but you are not a good person.

You won't die a hero, I hope you die poor, and with a knowledge of the pain people like you cause.

You narrow minded, racist, evil, bigotry filled bastard.

I'm ashamed that I've called you my friend.

Tired of You.

Who keeps asking me for sex over form-spring? If you're reading this, whoever you are, I don't like it at all. In fact, I hate it. It is creepy and disgusting.

Make It Beautiful, If You Can

You know the only thing that feels worse than feeling depressed? Feeling guilty. I can't make feeling guilty feel okay and excepted within myself the way I can with sadness and depression.

What I'm going to do with it is, I'm going to to try and turn it into something beautiful.

That is what I do. Or try to do. I try to turn everything I can that is bad in me and make it beautiful. It is still bad. But I can see it better, I don't feel so bad about it. I don't feel as guilty, I suppose.

Some Good Things About Joel

I have a poor esteem of myself. So I am forcing myself to write some good things about me, instead of all the bad ones for a change.

I am very clever. Or at least, more so than the average human.

I have natural honesty that some dislike. I think it is a positive attribute.

I have a large capacity for forgiveness.

For my age, I am very well-read.

I am tolerant.

I am usually kind or nice.

I am not violent.

Realness.

Reality, Realness, Realism.

Definition: 1) The state of being actual or real, "He questioned the realness of his situation"

I can see into the other world, run my hand along its course grass, cool on my fingertips.

I can feel the other world pressing onto this one, the colours blur in speed, red, blue, green, purple, beautiful.

I can smell the other world, warm, salty, sweet on my pallet, delectable, soothing.

I can hear the other world, its warm orange aroma hangs in the air tantalizingly, a temping finger dragging me forward.

I can taste the other world, its voices whisper to me in the night, call out my name in the day,

Cry for me. Cry for their lost son.

When was I there?

When did I smell such sights?

When did I taste such sounds?

Feel the colours?

When did I dance with such beauty?

Memory of my mind is erased, only sensation remains, flesh memory.

Oh how I wish I could go back to you.

When Joel's Worlds Collide

So basically, that giant red hot lava bit in the middle is me, and the two worlds are 1) my school and internet life and 2) my home life.

SSSSSSSSHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cheese And Wine.

I want some cheese. Jarlsberg is my favorite. And a nice glass of red wine.

Screw You Barry, You Handsome Man.

Dammit Barry, your words are beautiful!

I just discovered that Barry Manilow covered a song that has a title of one word, that one word being the name of the girl I like.

F**k.

I've listened to it 5 times in a row now.

This is not going to end well.

(luckily she doesn't read my blog)

Joel's Haikus

Haikus can be fun

But also damn annoying

Mine are cool, screw you

Zooben is a word

Get used to the way I make

Up words that sound cool.

"You're a gay faggot!"

F*** you freshie, I hate you

I hope you die badly

My wallet has money

Yours does not, you are very poor

Ha ha ha ha ha.

Five syllables then

Seven syllables next and

Then five again, End.

God loves me, sinner.

He loves you too you moron,

You need Jesus, duh!

Some hiakus = no sense,

Like this one here, it is odd,

Gibberish nonsense.

I hate you, yes you,

You are a serious d**k

So much hate of you.

I'm a bad person

But don't tell anyone, shh.

They don't know that, lol

F*** You.

If I ever meet you again, I'll take out my knife and stab you in the gut.

I Am Zen.

All things are equal.

Every sensation you feel is both worthy of your notice, and equal to every other sensation you feel. All thought is aside. The only things that exist are the things that you can taste, touch, see and smell and hear right in front of you, beside you, in the air around you. You are master, King or Queen of yourself and all the world. To change the world all you must do is pluck it out of your universe and twist it in your hands to a shape more pleasing. Then replace it.

You are Zen.

I am Zen.

We are Zen.

Timer

Can you hear that tick?

It isn't your heart.

That is your timer.

When it stops,

You're done.

I want what I want because I've been designed to do so.

And I hate it.

I have/shall/am rebelling against the very essence of self that constructs everything that makes up what I am.

Or is my purpose to defy the impulses I have?

If so, the only way to defy that is to not defy it.

Any other number divided by infinity is so small that it is essentially nothing. So I'm going to either live forever or die immediately.

What can I do then? Is there anything that I can do?

I'm so tired.

Card At Random

dammit...

"The Lovers"

Again. It has been doing this all night.

Okay how about now.

"The Lovers"

...

one more time.

"The Lovers", Except this time it's upside down.

ONCE MORE.

hey... its different! what one is it?

oh. The "Death" Card. Nice.

**ck you tarot cards.

Tired...

I'm going to sleep for a week. Then go into a sleeping coma. Then sleep some more... Durr...

N.

The world is loud, outrageous and ridiculous.

But I find that mostly it is quiet and sad,

The little plays, enacted in little rooms. Never seen.

People don't live amazing lives, they just do whatever they do, day after grey day. Then they die without dignity smelling awful, in pain.

You won't always be sad, or happy. You'll just be all of it. At random intervals. And few enough people will care. Maybe that shall be enough for you.

You can't have sadness, without happiness.

There is no Blue without Yellow, or without Orange.

Vincent saw that.

You won't die well, with a cloud of your achievements behind you. You'll just die.

This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper.

Thomas saw that.

My Soundly Soulful Silence.

Let me caress your

Essence of self.

I promise to hold it gently, not to bruise it, damage or soil it.

I assure you, my hands are clean.

Will you let me?

Do not clamp your fingers,

About my wrist.

Holding back my hand.

It offends me.

To think.

You do so.

I shall polish your Eyes in their sockets,

Let them see,

With a new gleam.

Do you see, as I do, the colours of our world?

Gentle shifting hue, blue, yellow, green.

Perish your thoughts of pity.

Perish your thoughts of generosity.

Stand and see for a moment,

Then continue to be good.

It is irrelevant, but see, you have to Fight or Submit.

Fight or Submit, it is irrelevant but to see you have.

Entertain thoughts while rejecting them.

Trickling through your hand,

Is a fine white sand.

The people of this world are unrefined, are crass.

Their souls and motives as bitter, as brittle as glass.

Bare them not your worry, your labels, your concern,

And all will call you teacher, from you will learn.

Asymmetry

Delicate dancers trace silken ribbon through the air in beautiful trajectories of mathematics.

The essential plan is to cause a large amount of confusion with hidden information in it whilst decoding the information hidden in your neighbors confusion.

Sinking the lines of netting into the salt water, fish emerge, gasping and expiring.

Build in a place that nobody goes.