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draklyne

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Oh, did I tell you? I have betrayed LJ [Jul. 29th, 2009|08:19 pm]
draklyne
I now update (sometimes twice daily) on Wordpress.

briankung.wordpress.com
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Apparently the main toilet on the ISS has broken down, and with a record number (13) of astronauts o [Jul. 20th, 2009|02:03 pm]
draklyne
Apparently the main toilet on the ISS has broken down, and with a record number (13) of astronauts on board, no less.
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it's amazing what you can find when you go anal gazing [Jul. 15th, 2009|07:12 am]
draklyne
it's amazing what you can find when you go anal gazing
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mourn [May. 15th, 2009|03:40 am]
draklyne
Make it known that before we die, we all have our day at the top of the world.  Ontoward advances are never welcome, but the timing will come naturally.  Until then, however, there is nothing to do but wait...to improve...and to see the world for what it is.  Rich in life, one can never fail.  Never without a reason should you give up.
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Now is the time [May. 15th, 2009|03:26 am]
draklyne
Guaranteed, this is when we write.  Before even the sun has begun to think of its ascent, returning to its place amidst the clouds, displacing the stars in their haughty distance.  We bow before inevitability and begin again the task of putting into words the experience of humanity.  Every day we toil; every day we fail.  And yet, as Sisyphus with his boulder, so too do we begin the day two steps forward and end it exactly where we began; simply staring and pondering, wondering if we are made out for this task, inherently afraid of our inner darknesses and unexplored depths.

We stare into the great wilderness within and cower in fear, scrawling what we can behind us for those who would dare follow.

There is a weakness in us, and we few who take up the pen do what we can to address it.  We call it names, draw lines around its borders, explain its anatomy as we slash at it with our sabers, draw and quarter our friends and closest allies in frustration as we reach ever forward into the black abyss of our heart, seeking something beautiful: a perfect golden ring, perhaps; an angel sent to us from Heavenly Elsewhere; a hand to hold ours as we pass beneath the shadows.

There is nothing for us but this eternal, lonesome quest, fraught with missteps only we judge.

Here I stand again, before you.  Before only you.  You are my only world.  Look into my eyes.  Smell my breath.  I am alive.

Will you ever truly know it?
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(no subject) [May. 11th, 2009|03:27 am]
draklyne
Monday, May 11, 2009
 

That Which Binds

develop distant family ties
with people you've never met
let me know if you've ever kept
a different distant dragon on the shore
than the one kept in your eyes
snorting fire at the skies
and watching from its lair
as I contemplate your hair
you're oh so challenging laconic
as your words become draconic
and your family edges forward
from the pages of a novel
that you've put on extended 'maybe'
while you pause to draw your sword
the one I'll take to hold you close
as your wit proves verbose

we're given to these skies, girl,
and I've no time to tell me lies
so are you truth without the baggage
should I bleed to hold you high
or are you content to watch my brow ridge
as I'm lowered to the ground
as ordinary vanquished
as when the war-horns sound
for I shall battle as you wished
til my sneakers fail to hold me
and my faith yet fail to console me

we're given to each other, girl,
and I've no time to tell you lies
there's no such thing as fate
and I'm not the one for you
but tonight we toast to hope
as we hold each others' hands
 

 

mad mechanisms, elitist contradictions,

you are my heart, you are my soul, but you're nowhere near perfect, my darling;
I love you, but you're me and I am a ruby amongst diamonds and I'm always in the rough, so I'm sorry,
so sorry for the me that you've become, so sorry for the flaws you haven't found yet...

 

 

Mind blathering

Walking reasonably well
within the confines of my mind
I brake;
a hard right with my heels,
it's what I take
and I am lost quite suddenly
of my own accord

lost in this maze brush, this mind rush
the only thing I'll touch before I reach out to you
bringing in a different kind of song
feel the stone and develop dizzying holds on you
as you grip for the last of my heart
but I pull away
and drag you there
where?  well I'll take you anywhere
I want to go
unlimited
by what I know
and in the end we'll all see the snow
reflecting all your hopes and melting in the sun
because we're one
we are the grass,
we are the sun,
we see the stars before our Earth was born
and long after they die we'll be around to mourn

So can't you see
I'm walking around
on the inside of my mind
limited by no circumference of my head
and my soul rebounds
and then rejoins, relives
re-flutters round my world
way past the time they call me dead
so don't you fear
and don't you despair
I can't see you either
 
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To Search [Mar. 31st, 2009|02:08 am]
draklyne
When it's late at night, I search for people important to me, or to whom I am important. The night is long and the road must be traveled.

I set off. Windy, yet not as cold as I had imagined. The darkness bled into my jacket; I could tell neither cloth from night, night from cloth. There was a certain safety in it.

But safety was not what I was looking for.

I was looking for death.

Death, or  even a sliver of hope.  It was one or the other.
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what do you live for? [Mar. 28th, 2009|06:24 am]
draklyne
some people live for money
others live for the excitement
some people live for other people
others live for the drama or melancholy

some live for an impossible dream
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at six in the morning [Mar. 28th, 2009|06:03 am]
draklyne
there's nothing to do but be lonely...

I guess I should get used to it. After all, I might not see you again in this life, or even in this world. Who knows? All I know is that I'll remember you.
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At the river [Mar. 28th, 2009|05:47 am]
draklyne
I couldn't find her.
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(no subject) [Mar. 27th, 2009|12:45 pm]
draklyne
I think I might really be crazy.

And I think it might really be better that way.
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Posted using LJ Talk (http://www.livejournal.com/chat/)... [Mar. 27th, 2009|12:42 pm]
draklyne
It's difficult to tell, sometimes, whether you're crazy or whether the whole world is crazy and you're the only sane one.

I think I remember her. No, I know I remember her. I just don't know if I'll ever find her. Here, in this world, in this life. It's unlikely at best.

And what when I do find her?

It will all be worth it then. All of it.
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"You may choose two things to remember..." [Mar. 27th, 2009|09:32 am]
draklyne
He looked beyond the fairy's gossamer image to the elven girl, shoulders slightly slumped, tattered dress hanging about her shoulders.  A princess.  And her name was...

"Moonflower."

As he said it a moonflower appeared in his hands and there was regret and sweetness, soft like flower petals. 

Images raced through his mind:  a dancing horse, a festival, the dangers they had faced.

"...and yesterday."

He watched Moonflower until the world faded to black.
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San Torino [Mar. 22nd, 2009|12:36 am]
draklyne
"Gimme the gun," he grumped, "or I'll blow your brains away."

"Fuck off!" the kid shouted, hoisting the sawed off single-barrel shotgun.

"Your call."

Itchy fingers slipped over the trigger.  Sweat. Squee-

The old man's gnarled finger plugged the barrel of the gun.
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It always confused him [Mar. 20th, 2009|08:18 am]
draklyne
...how the first topic that came to mind was philosophy.  Given his own personality, he reasoned, it should have been sex.
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Johnson [Mar. 19th, 2009|09:46 pm]
draklyne
was afraid that he didn't spend enough time practicing.  It was 3am on a Saturday, and the piano he had been using for the past couple hours (days?) had given up on a few notes.  Presumably the strings had snapped.

His fingers, however, were not bleeding, and his nails were not chipped, and he had heard stories of people whose hands had degraded in such a manner.  There was a difference, and he wasn't going to be satisfied until he had made that difference up.

Resigned to a quasi-silent piano, he shrugged and began again, imagining notes in the awkward spaces where he could hear the hammer mechanism drop.  Almost empty.

The hammers dropped.
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How do you define Greatness? (Thanks, LJ) [Mar. 18th, 2009|10:49 pm]
draklyne
Every morning, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten the night before, he would wake up to the sound of a cello in the courtyard.
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Some feign nonchalance [Mar. 18th, 2009|05:04 am]
draklyne
before they give in to their base desire, while others simply cave.  She was one of the more direct, and simply demanded a massage.  What was the point of pretending?  And when the response was not forthcoming, she shrugged and went her own way.

In Brooklyn, that meant back to a tiny room filled with many cats.
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He had just begun to feel weary [Mar. 17th, 2009|11:31 pm]
draklyne
when the thought struck him.  It could have been any girl.  Any time in his life.  In fact, every time in his life had been governed by thoughts of a girl, one way or another.

He leaned back in the bright, sunlit knoll, not quite all the way into the rusted iron monstrosity behind him.  Despite the wind, the construction was too warm to be comfortable.  He readjusted himself on the wood-chips which ostensibly marked this rust creation as different, but it looked, after years of oxidation, too much like it had been there to really stand out.  It was just another beast on the plains.
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Acts of Desperation [Mar. 17th, 2009|12:58 am]
draklyne
I have blocked almost every website I normally waste my time on, except for LJ and a few others for the purpose of studying.  LJ is just placid enough to be peaceful - moreover, there is business here to which I must attend, always.

The business of a novel.

Love to you all,
BK
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The mail was gone. [Feb. 13th, 2009|01:14 am]
draklyne

The final combination on the massive lock had given way to a resounding clatch as the bolt slid away, revealing all the empty steely walls and racks that the sound was happily ricocheting back and forth upon.  The sight did not even register on his mind, and, staring blankly into the brightly lit vault at the rear of the post office, in a place shielded from the sun’s curious, burning gaze, his silhouette seemed like that of an explorer poised upon some unknown world, standing at the edge of what was known, feet barely planted in reality.

The vault slammed shut.  He blinked, not even realized when his arm jerked to shut the door.  Shaking himself lightly, he checked his faded blue uniform, his name tag which read MICHEL FUGUE, a horribly misspelling of Fuhge that he had simply not had the initiative to file the papers to fix, and finally trotted outside to check that, indeed, he had placed himself into the right edifice.

Which he had.  Its newly-shining white paintjob, courtesy of the recent Hurricane Emma, positively gleamed in the early morning light.  He still got dizzy, on occasion, when the fumes from the paint, in pockets little-known to the everyday post-office guest, were stirred up in his presence.

The sand of the beach whispered, and the grass bowed in the wind.  He stared up at the POST OFFICE sign adorning the building, and, at a time when many were hitting the snooze buttons on their alarm clocks, they all thought, maybe one more time together.  And, so, he headed back into the vault room.

Fingerprint scan.

First combination.

Second.

Third.

Whistle nervously (Unrelated).

Input PIN.

ACCESS GRANTED.

There he stood, one Michel Fuhge, at the edge of the world, once again looking at nothing but vacuum.

I’m so fucked.

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He worked [Feb. 11th, 2009|11:39 pm]
draklyne

...in the post office, in a small town at the farthest edge of habitable coastline.  He came back again and again every day, at 6 in the morning, sunshine or storms.  Oftentimes, as it so happened, he would come back to tatters, shambles of wood and broken boards, and he would begin the tedious work of salvaging his place of employment, shifting this or that, making sure the seal on the parcel-room was still tight.  It happened every so often, at the coast, and in the hurricanes' line of fire.  Often enough, anyway, to justify building a water-tight vault to store everything in at night.  After all, whether sun, storm, or earthquake, the Nation’s Mail had a duty to its citizens.

Maybe not an earthquake.  That, at least, they probably wouldn’t have to deal with here.

Today was just like any other day, except that, today, the mail was gone.

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I shall have a book in a year. [Feb. 10th, 2009|11:36 pm]
draklyne
Mark the calendar.  On February 11th, 2010, I will have written my first complete book, consisting of no less than 50,000 words.  I might not post the entirety of every chapter on LJ, I might not post the edited versions...but, my friends, it will be here, in spirit or in corpore, in a year.

*EDIT* Please, please, please, voice any words of support now!  I am a fragile vehicle, driven on puffs of praise and honeyed words and just as easily destroyed.

PS, a novel by NaNoWrimo standards (50,000 words) in a year is 137 words per day.  Wish me luck!
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Tennessee Valley CATASTROPHE [Jan. 15th, 2009|01:55 am]
draklyne
http://www.commondreams.org/view/2009/01/14-3

40X larger than the Exxon Valdez spill in Alaska

Please help get the word out, this is the largest human environmental catastrophe in the history of the United States and the Tennessee Valley Authority is doing its best to cover it up instead of deal with it responsibly
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Holy SHIT - Woman performs auto-Caesarian-Section [Dec. 30th, 2008|12:50 am]
draklyne
http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2004/06/01/1086037758224.html?from=storyrhs
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Postapocalyptic Puppet Savior: 9 [Dec. 24th, 2008|12:33 pm]
draklyne
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Cowboy Bebop: The Movie (Starring Keanu Reeves) [Dec. 20th, 2008|02:33 am]
draklyne
http://moviesblog.mtv.com/2008/12/17/keanu-reeves-eager-to-do-something-good-with-cowboy-bebop-movie
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Red C [Dec. 15th, 2008|02:07 am]
draklyne
I have found in myself a capacity for great anger, a violent core I had not known was so ill-controlled. A lazy green Earth spinning about a core of red magma.

Anger in everything, sympathy for no one. My knuckles bore witness.

Watch my anger destroy, or am I my anger's shepherd?

Where is the middle ground?
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A Word on Proposition 8 by Keith Olbermann [Nov. 11th, 2008|11:00 am]
draklyne
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A Brave New Obamaian World [Nov. 2nd, 2008|06:04 pm]
draklyne
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/e62444aa8c/brave-new-obamaian-world-from-ucbcomedy

...

And when you're done with that, chillax with Zen Sonic:

http://www.viddler.com/explore/Docfuture/videos/28/
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Prophecies from the Onion [Oct. 31st, 2008|08:53 am]
draklyne

Bush: 'Our Long National Nightmare Of Peace And Prosperity Is Finally Over'

www.theonion.com/content/node/28784

Uneducated Forklift Driver to Address Nation on Rush Limbaugh Show

http://www.theonion.com/content/node/48940

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You're not going to believe this. [Oct. 18th, 2008|01:11 am]
draklyne
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1078449/Pictured-The-incredible-surfing-rats-taught-ride-4ft-waves.html

Surfing rats.
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$5 off $25 at Walgreens! [Oct. 17th, 2008|06:31 am]
draklyne
Walgreens $5 off of $25 or more:
http://www.walgreens.com/hotbuys/default.jsp?ec=hn540r_getcoupons




Now if I could only think of $25 worth of stuff to buy...
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How to pronounce Le-a [Oct. 16th, 2008|01:06 am]
draklyne
http://ireadbannedbooks.net/2008/10/12/yet-another-reason-civilization-is-doomed/
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Persistence [Oct. 15th, 2008|12:45 am]
draklyne
He sucked in a long breath of smoke from his little fag.  Dragons' fumes wafted out in a cone as he exhaled.  Flicking the cigarette to the floor and stomping it, he looked straight at me, spearing me through the retinas of my eyeballs to the decaying brick wall behind me.  Paralyzed, I pored over every minutiae of his pronunciation, over every nuance of his tone.

"Look at us, we teeming throngs of humanity, each in His image" he spat, still pinning me to my place, "God-" he savored the word, as though imbibing it, rolling it through the cavern of his jaws and swallowing it with his cheeks, his tongue, the whole of his flesh, vanishing it into the core of his being.  "-God is not perfect."

"He just gets a lot of tries."

Then he broke eye contact with me and brought about the end of the world.
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Reflections [Oct. 14th, 2008|10:34 am]
draklyne
[mood |possibly peaceful]

Perhaps it's the lack of sleep, but I feel particularly poised right now.  The image that comes to mind is a water droplet hanging precariously at the tip of a twig, itself emerging from the surface of a perfectly clear, perfectly still pond.  Where I am about to go and where I have come from are of no matter at this moment, because I'm still in the process of falling, and the present moment has so much more gravitas than the other options.  And when I do fall, the stillness will be no more, becoming nothing more than radiating waves, ricocheting in perfect symmetry.

...my microwave just burned an inedible half-dollar sized disc into the center of my cookie.
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Nightclubs are Hell [Oct. 11th, 2008|08:50 pm]
draklyne
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2007/aug/13/fashion.comment

=D

So true.
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Songs for Nomad Singers [Oct. 8th, 2008|02:10 pm]
draklyne
As you may or may not know, I started an RSO (registered student organization) that's basically flashmob singing - we set a time, place, and a song, and we go there and sing it.
The Pitch:

1) Join Nomad Singers on Facebook or by emailing me at bkung2@uiuc.edu with [NS] in the subject title
2) Receive an email with a time, a place, and a song
3) Be there FLASHMOB STYLE and sing yer hearts out with us!
4) Disperse!

If you can make it, that's great! If not, there'll always be another time. Oh, and expect some open-mic and karaoke events out of us, too! ~_^
Now I'm wondering...what songs should we sing? If you could just comment your favorite song title and artist name in the comments, I'll put together a club wiki of all the lyrics.

Thanks!
Brian
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The Grind [Sep. 20th, 2008|01:51 pm]
draklyne
Despite the lines separating lives left alive, alone in the abyss, wondering where why what and how this happened to me, where to flee, still living life or what's left of life for the next day, for the next pain, for the next wall to strike you in the face. Even so, and even though you feel and you do know it's worth the fire, worth the trials, worth the darkness for the coming light, you think about the rays of sun just before that orb sunk down.

I stand at precipice, precious piece of mind fading fast before the falling, constant calling of my name and I know that there are two choices, to live or die, and which will falling cause me? Thin as a ray of light, ground down by Existence, I am lighter than a feather and the wind will do me good.

Pieces not found by thinking. Natural only in flinching.

the way for the pieces to fit
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forget forget forget [Sep. 14th, 2008|12:17 am]
draklyne
don't forget, but move on

look at the sky

it's black

oh yes it is

Can you find the answer there?
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