Blog Archives

You’ll Notice some changes around here

Ok, so, you may be noticing some changes to the blog soon if you haven’t already.

  1. I have gone to a “private” setting so I can better mod things on here. (People seem to think I’m a “dbag” and an “ahole.” (My gut response is to say **** you haters, but…well, I’m trying to make money here, lol.)

  2. If you like the changes, let me know.
  3. If you don’t…let me know. *grits teeth*
  4. I have all the things linked. If a link is broken, TELL ME!
  5. If anything at all doesn’t work (a video, a stream, a telekinetically thrown goat, etc. etc. etc.)… LET ME KNOW!
  6. Don’t be a dbag to me or others on here.
  7. I have the final say in who is a douche and who isn’t…MWHAHAHAHA. This isn’t a democracy, this isn’t a “cheerocracy” (as Chuck Wendig put it *wink wink nudge nudge*), this is a Pagan Republic.
  8. All that being said…
  9. HAVE FUN.
  10. BE SAFE.
  11. …VOICE YOUR OPINIONS!

Good Prompt Today! Daily Prompt: Fast Forward

Today’s prompt is another one I can really sink my metaphorical creative teeth into as a sci-fi/fantasy/horror writer. (OK, OK, I didn’t see the prompt itself first…I saw this post [great pic by the way, Vic!] then found the prompt, so my response is a little skewed because of that inspiration.)

four_horsemen

Vasnetsov’s Four Horsement of the Apocalypse in all its splendor!

My most recent completed draft is a future dystopic utopian sci-fi novel. It is set mostly in the year 2063 aboard an interplanetary science/exploratory vessel. The world governments have conglomerated into three major “imperial” state-systems each with colonies on either the Moon, Mars, or both.

In that novel, entitled 2063: Odyssey of the Krasivaya Vesh, the protagonist comes to realize (through various transmissions and reports from other SpaceEx – members of the “Space Explorer” culture) that the utopian placidity enforced on Earth and in the colonies is merely a facade.

Other than that, I write a lot of poetry and fiction, both in short story and novel format, about death, apocalyptic warfare, and similar morbid/dark topics. I don’t really know the why behind this tendency… but I theorize that it relates back mostly to personal experience and knowledge.

Here is an apocalyptic poem (I’m very proud of this one, but, as always, could still use some comments if anyone notices a flaw in meter or any other aspect of poetry.) I wrote that I think a lot of people have tended to enjoy. Hope you enjoy as well, dear reader.

NOTE: This was carefully constructed, but was not written with any intentioned meter, format, or other poetic structure. There is, in places, a rhyming pattern and a meter that I think might be called iambic pentameter (or other similar pentameter or iambic rhythm…I don’t know, all I know is it sounds better read aloud than it does in my head, lol), but it is more fluid than most of the hard poetry that I’ve personally read. So, that said – happy reading!

Ending of Endings

Tensions gather: world in a trance

emblazoned leaves begin a dance

in the winds that sweep our Mother

{Gaea to all Hellenes;

“Earth” she be to other dress}

and dry the faces of the men

and women who brave the tosséd mess.

Soldiers training for the fall

in the war that will enthrall

the Earth and Peoples of the earth

and all the living in its berth.

Captains calling for a drill

in harshest freeze – Boreal Chill

that burns the faces of the men.

Soldiers all, march towards an end;

(An Ending Ends all Endings!)

Armies moving out to meet;

Anthropoi seek the shield or sheet;

{Perchance them luck allows avoid

a tempest raging on geoid}

and scorch the homes and towns and lands

of all that live upon the brand –

Herakles but overlay,

the Titan Lord the weight {wait?} betray.

Things are coming to a head

as winter cloudbanks: shadow steles

now are built ‘twixt Zeus and ‘Ellas.

All cower in the roll of thunder,

no Messenger now Basilei needs,

Announces Grim {his sky’s asunder}

FINAL WAR!: our hasted blunder.

Questions {myriad their number}

breech the minds

in wizened skulls:

those Few who seek now to preserve

some measure of our lost reserve.

Alas their charge came overdue

impotent force sees now this true.

Ares marches to consume

All that can {and can’t in gloom}

take up arms against his might!

Hades marching in the night,

Thanatos the grim he joins

in solemn, cold, unfeeling step;

Forge the rivers!

Smash the damns!

Hell is loose upon our lands!

Fires burning!

Bombs explode!

Earth had been his sick demand!;

This Ending Ends all Endings!

But from the ash

We’ll rise again

A thorn to mock the dreaded crash

And live to see the land restored:

Our time here never left deplored

Well, that’s that! I really do hope you enjoy it! I’ll keep posting poetry since I seem to be getting only encouragement and positive comments when I do so! Haha. Power of positive reinforcement there, I suppose. If you DO, however, see an error or something that you feel could be improved, please, by all means, point it out to me publicly OR privately. That kind of honesty and advice is always as welcome as compliments or other general comments. Whether you liked or not…I’d love to hear about it!

Have an unbelievable day/night!

In Earnest,

King Pollux ~ Adam Kristofer Walkingstick King

On Being a Misfit, an Outsider, a Lone Wolf

I saw this post on “vic briggs | a writer adrift” and it inspired me to write on the topic too. I saw that daily prompt (from yesterday the ninth) but didn’t really feel moved to post on the topic with how I was feeling that day. Frankly, yesterday (Thursday, Jan 9th) was just a shit day in most aspects.

In any event, I felt that it would be great to post a sort of personal response to Vic Briggs’ post explaining how I feel about being a writer and a weirdo (“weirdo” is my own addition and shouldn’t be misconstrued as calling all writers “weirdos”… though many are, 😛 neener-neener).

I’ll begin with a bit of a cliche. I always felt different.

In my case, however, that feeling different felt normal and I never felt as if I did not “fit in” as a child. That may not make a whole lot of sense to you presently, but, please, hear me out and I can explain.

You know that feeling, in the summer, when you go inside from the screeching heat? That feeling of complete and utter relief? When the thermostat may be turned up to a mere couple degrees below the outdoor temperature and it doesn’t fucking matter, you still feel relief?

That’s kind of how “feeling different” from all the other kids felt like when I was young.

I accepted the fact that I was different and also the fact that I could still fit into the social groups I was expected to fit in with. I could still “succeed” by the standards of my parents and teachers while remaining true to the fact that I was unique. Yea, even at a young age I could get a little grandiose and overly cocky.

Once, in the Third Grade, another boy and I made a game of prank calling the police from the pay phone (sorry, kids, many of you younger folks probably haven’t even seen one of those 😛 ) just outside the office. It was a blast! We knew deep below the surface that what we were doing was wrong. We knew this was forbidden. Someone had taught us this lesson already: calling the police when there is no danger is dangerous for other people. That was the FUN part about the game!

J.J. and I got away with prank calling for a few days just fine. The office personnel were always inside or far from the office during recesses. We figured as long as no one caught us in the act, it would be fine. Of course that meant I had to go off on my own and push the envelope just a hair too far and get caught in the act. (I usually knew/know when to call something quits, but in that case I completely misjudged the location of the stopping line.)

That was embarrassing! That single event, I’m sure, is the reason I tried so hard in the years stretching from then to now to do whatever I wanted without getting caught doing the things authorities looked poorly upon. I managed to cute-ify* and manipulate my way out of the prank calling incident and if I could do that I figured I could do it again in other situations.

See, from a very young age I was a rebel. A punk. A misfit prince of thieves and deception. Even as a toddler I was 95% pure mischief. Its that outer 5% of cuteness, innocence, and wit that kept me from ever getting into serious trouble.

I always had a relatively large group of friends and never had any trouble getting along with anyone, adult or child. My mother supposes that my learning to talk and read at a young age coupled with her own propensity to speak to me as if I were an adult while I was still in my crib helped me to learn excellent social skills in general. I am grateful (more than I can ever say) for my parents both, for their encouragement and nurturing. It sure wasn’t expected that I’d do anything other than what I wanted within the household. They just did their best to teach me how to want and like the things that would kill me, harm me, and do neither of those things to others.

Upon reaching junior year in High School (I believe it is generally also called “secondary school”, for non-American readers) I met her. That girl that I thought I would marry in my youth and naivete. Yea, well… dedicating everything of myself to anyone at that age and in the ensuing years was a major mistake.

So, it happened, that at the times I wanted to rebel the most I wound up with someone who opened my eyes to many truths I’d never had to face before. We were so different and so bull-headed and determined that somehow the relationship worked for us. Sadly, it didn’t work for any of my large family or enormous friend base.

Now, just over 8 years later, my life is only just beginning to regain some semblance of togetherness and health.

During those 8 years running from 11th grade to November of 2011 I went through the soul crushing experience of morphing from a confident and independent young man into a groveling, lying, thieving, wretched, crack addict. I had no friends. My family had all but given up on me (except my parents, they, of course, always held out hope). I was that lone wolf I always thought I wanted to be. I chose the Wolf and the Wolf chose me.

Moving from conservative Christianity to anti-Christianity to vague neo-paganism to Hellenismos was a hard process alone. I’ve been a Hellenic polytheist since late 2007. (Which happens to be the year I graduated High School and began attending California State University, Fresno and living, for the first time, out of my parent’s home and on campus.) I only just got the courage and fortitude to tell my parents mere weeks ago.

I’ve been a Misfit. I’ve been that Outsider of which true artists and vainglorious frauds speak. I am the Lone Wolf.

The only reason I’ve survived thus far? I also happen to have a pack.

I don’t walk alone as much as I felt I did for so long and as much as I thought I wanted to. Sure, it’s a marvelous feeling to “go your own way,” but humans are social creatures and no amount of lying to yourself will change that. The only way to survive for long as a “misfit,” “outsider,” or “lone wolf” is to find a “pack” of other outliers that you fit in well with.

That’s how I survived when multiple situations should have found me dead or in prison upon reaching their ending.

  • I’ve overdosed on cough syrup (just robo-tripping) and wound up in the hospital on saline IV drips twice then was 5150’d and brought to the Community Behavioral Health Center in east Fresno where I was 5250’d and only released ten days later because my parents signed me out on my own recognizance in their care at my begging and pleading
  • I’ve had guns in the hands of those more than willing to shoot aimed at my car
  • I’ve had people threaten to beat me up or kill me
  • I’ve been surrounded by gang bangers, cutthroats, and dope addicts who might have attacked or murdered me for little more than a sideways glance at the wrong moment
  • I’ve been addicted to opiates (mostly stolen hydrocodone pills, but sometimes oxy if I could get it free) as well as crack cocaine (sometimes using them both within a brief time frame)
  • I’ve been on the verge of murdering other men on more than one occasion (by on the verge I mean “so pissed or otherwise upset that I actually had plans for killing them in cold blood and getting away with it and came very close at least three or four times to actually acting out the plan”)
  • I’ve been handcuffed and arrested (then released) by Clovis PD for having smoking paraphernalia (a little glass crack stem) in my pocket while one of the brake lights in my brother’s jeep was out [NOTE: If you are on or coming down from powerful stimulants, have some drugs or paraphernalia in the car, get pulled over, and have never had to face the police while in such a state before… you’re probably screwed. Sorry, that’s just the way it goes. Those guys are trained to recognize the symptoms.]

I won’t go on here, this post is long enough. Still, if you’ve read this far: Thank you very much.

You few that read this and take something from it…I’d like the message you take from it to be whatever message you need to hear from such a topic at this stage of your life.

In the end, people cannot survive for long or very happily without other people. Even if you never associate with anyone in “mainstream” society somehow and cast yourself out as a misfit/loner/outsider/reject/lone wolf… you need socialization. Sure, you could survive for a while on the company of animals or imaginary friends, but you won’t thrive.

Surviving. is. NOT. living.

So, thanks for reading! I hope you take something out of this even if that one something is the conclusion that I am completely insane! ^_^ I AM!

DING-DING-DING-DING!! We’ve got a winner folks! Give this guy-girl/girl-guy/person (because honestly who can tell these days anyway and why does it really matter in the end when gender is more cultural myth than physical status?) the booby prize for recognizing the obvious!

😛 I learned a few years ago that claiming insanity actually means I’m not crazy. (Run that one through the old noodle and see what shakes out. Bahahahahahahahaha!)

Have an unbelievable day!

In Earnest,

 

King Pollux ~ Adam Kristofer Walkingstick King

King of Delusional Grandeur,

Prince of Thieves on Earth,

Demi-god Son of Zeus and Leda,

did the scribe list “King of Delusional Grandeur”?

Oh…so he did…good

ta-ta for now folks!

*Derp* Here’s the daily prompt!

Daily Prompt: Style Icon

Well, the prompt for today asked me to define my “personal style.” I suppose this could be sort of a fun topic, so I’ll go ahead and indulge myself.

Check the prompt

My style? Oh, Gods, what are you asking of me?

In FAT waiting to catch my plane to Phoenix so I can catch another plane to Philadelphia.

In FAT waiting to catch my plane to Phoenix so I can catch another plane to Philadelphia.

I think the best way to describe my sense of “style” (though, I don’t really believe I’m afflicted with such a triviality by conventional standards of style) is OMNICLECTIC.

Omniclectic? What the frack is that?

Sit down and stay a while and I shall elucidate.

“Omniclectic” is a word I just made up. It means something like “super duper über eclectic.” Not clear enough? Well, crimenitly, it means I am so eclectic the individual styles are no longer distinguishable. However, what that really tells you is that I have ADHD and a penchant for getting distracted.

If I had to choose one style for myself, it’d definitely be “punk.” I have a mohawk, denim jacket with spikes and patches all over, and generally wear ratty clothing in multifarious stylings with gritty music blaring from my person.

A Clockwork Orange? I got your Clockwork Orange right here! m!m

A Clockwork Orange? I got your Clockwork Orange right here! m!m

Still, I don’t really commit to one style of dress, music, art, writing, or anything. I prefer to keep my options open. Since my “awakening” (if you want to call it such) this last November I have tried many new things and am remaining open to all possibilities.

I can’t wait to get some money together so Freddy (Cansas, my twin sis) and I can travel the planet and try out everything the world has to offer! I see the beauty in all things and all people now. Much Love.

Here’s to staying true to yourself and trying new things!

In Earnest,

King Pollux ~ Adam Kristofer Walkingstick King

Daily Prompt: Beyond the Pale

Well, today’s prompt asked about the last time I did something NEW and out of my “element.” That…is a topic I can sink my teeth into.

Last time I did something NEW? November 25th found me on a plane to Phoenix, Arizona so I could catch another flight to Philadelphia. See, I moved to Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania JUST before Thanksgiving.

Little background:
I am 24 years old (born September 6th, 1989) and was raised in Clovis, California. Before now, the longest I ever spent out of the state was about 10 days for vacations and such. I’d been with a young woman for almost eight years and was engaged to marry her for nigh on six.

This past November (2013), I did my first (official) NaNoWriMo novel, which was also my second novel ever (the first having been completed in rough draft form on October 9th, 2013). Through http://www.nanowrimo.org I met a bunch of crazy awesome writers obsessed with smashing through the 50,000 word minimum. The OverAchievers. In that group I met HER. My twin flame. My Better two-thirds. My sister. The cheese to my macaroni.

I was wrong. That other girl I spent all those years with in love and anguish…she wasn’t who I was really meant for after all. (Really, we went through hell together multiple times…and, there I was, breaking the engagement off with her after we barely began recovering from my addiction. I won’t bitch about the many reasons the relationship was toxic…but, it was actually best that I moved away.)

So. After knowing “Freddy” (AKA Cansas AKA Castor) for only three weeks or so…we came up with a radical idea: I should move in with her and her parents in Mechanicsburg: a monumental proposition for someone who’d never so much as BEEN to Pennsylvania, much less lived outside of California.

Oh, and did I mention I am a recovering crack addict? (7 months clean as of December 14th or so.) Well, really it was never about the rock, I am just an addict. Also, I am a punk, an anarchist, an artist, a writer, a poet, a musician, a singer, a daydreamer, a misfit, a crazy motherfucker that once overdosed on cough syrup and spent ten days in a behavioral health unit (Yea, I was in the nuthouse on a medical 5150 AND 5250. Most people don’t even know 5250s exist, but they do. It’s a 14 day hold…5150 is 72 hours. Oh, and they suck. Don’t ever overdose or go bonkers. Those places are terrifying.). I always dreamed of doing something radical like moving across the country with nothing but the clothes on my back and a backpack filled with a laptop and notebooks. Now, I finally had the guts to do it. Thanks to Cansas, my soul-twin sister…I can live and breathe again.

So, yea, I’ve done some new things recently.

Cheers to 2014!

Now is all we have. Orizontas Forever!

In Earnest,

Adam King ~ King Pollux

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